Chapter One

Two weeks later (if you didn't read the prologue, go back)

Kate, dressed in dark blue shorts and a white gauzy blouse, her hair piled in a messy bun, glanced at her five-year-old daughter, Ryan, and beckoned her over with a quick motion of her finger.

"Turn around; let's check your backpack for the iPad," Kate said as her husband, Sam, completed a final round to secure the house.

"I checked Mom. It's there," Ryan said while pivoting on her small white deck shoes with a scowl that showed she was past ready to leave.

"You're right—it's here," Kate confirmed, her fingers brushing against the purple rubber case amidst the backpack's contents of items only a young girl would accumulate.

"We're all set," announced Sam, stepping into the living room from the rear of the house.

"Can we leave now?" implored Ryan, her short brown curls bouncing with each impatient shift from foot to foot.

She had woken before sunrise, placed her favorite grandpop gift around her neck, donned her new pristine white marine clothes, which had colorful dolphins and sea turtles strategically placed around the hems of the shirt and shorts, and was ready to go before Kate's blurry eyes could focus. Ryan had posed her question about leaving every fifteen minutes during breakfast and their departure preparations.

"Let's do this," Sam agreed, smiling at Kate.

"Yay!" Ryan exclaimed, jumping up and down on both feet instead of alternating.

Kate scooped up her red backpack from the floor, settling it on her lap.

"Need a hand with that?" Sam offered.

"Nope, I'm ready," she replied with a firm cast to her lips because she hated being treated like an invalid even if she felt like one most days.

Gripping the wheels, Kate pivoted her chair towards the door and rolled forward. Her excitement built as the steady hum of the van's lift positioned her wheelchair, and Sam secured it in place with a downward push on the levers.

Eighteen months had passed since the accident that left her with an incomplete spinal cord injury, taking away the use of her legs. The rehabilitation center staff had believed her fortunate for retaining some sensation below the waist, but Kate had never felt unluckier.

She'd gone through the five stages of grief; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance. Acceptance was still the hardest and some days she took a backwards step into depression again. Kate shrugged her unhappy thoughts aside. The yachting adventure was a step toward healing that she'd needed over the past year and finally, it was happening.

Six months since settling with the other driver's insurance had allowed them to adapt their newly purchased 61-foot yacht for wheelchair access. The modifications were completed a week before and they'd used the time before their departure to stock it with what was needed for a month's voyage. They were fortunate that one of her father's friends had sold them the yacht at a steal. They'd christened it Ryan's Gift in a small private ceremony the night before.

Kate's father, Dr. Greg Sawyer, a marine biologist who worked currently out of the San Francisco Bay, had been teaching Sam to handle the yacht alone. In his seventies, Greg had no intention of retiring and hoped to spend his final years at sea. He trusted his daughter on sea and land, but even with the modifications to the yacht, Sam had to be able to handle the beast alone.

They would reunite with Kate's father a few weeks into their maiden voyage to allow Ryan to spend time with him. Kate had little doubt that her daughter would follow in her grandpop's footsteps, despite Kate pursuing a different path.

Kate and Sam met in college and married shortly after graduation. They entered the business finance world and worked hard for the things that were important to them. Three years later, they had bought a home and started their one-child family. Kate gave up her career for a few years to pour herself into motherhood. Life went as planned until three months before her accident. For the first time, her marriage hit a devastating rough spot.

Again, Kate had to shove aside the gloomy thoughts that brought such mental turmoil, at times making it hard to breathe. It didn't help that she and Sam rarely spoke of their rocky marriage prior to the accident.

Darn, this was not the time to allow melancholy to dog her steps.

The thought coaxed a smile and a headshake from Kate. Steps or wheels, as long as she could move from point A to B, she would be thankful. And she would keep telling herself that until she believed it. She hated how easily her thoughts pulled her down and she was determined to change her perspective during the voyage. She wanted the old Kate back.

She turned her head and observed the roadside landscape while Ryan watched a movie in the backseat. Their destination was the Chula Vista Marina, in San Diego, an hour drive on Interstate 5 if traffic kept flowing.

A familiar warm hand grasped her fingers, squeezing slightly. Regardless of their troubled marriage, Sam had been her rock since the accident. She turned her smile toward him and reciprocated the squeeze. He was a good-looking thirty-four-year-old man with curly, short-cropped, medium brown hair the same shade as his daughter's. Sam's large green eyes and provocative smile always brought her up short when he turned them her way, and even with the unrest she felt, his good cheer was hard to resist.

"There's the ocean," he said as the highway curved, offering them their first view of the day. Ryan was too engrossed in her movie to hear him.

Kate's heartbeat accelerated as she glanced at the choppy blue water. The ocean's expanse beckoned, a vast canvas for her family's story to unfold, each wave a reminder of the strength and perseverance needed to navigate the journey ahead.