“Thank you.” Carson gently stroked the dolphin’s head. “Thank you for teaching me how to live.” Tears streamed down her face. “Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for being my friend. Thank you.”

“Okay, this is good,” Blake called out when they’d passed the dock.

They stopped moving, still holding the dolphin loosely in the water. Wind splashed droplets of water on their faces. Carson remembered the day they’d carried Delphine out from the Cove. The wind had raged that morning, an angry sea pushing waves into her face, over Delphine’s blowhole. This gentle spray was so different, Carson thought. Refreshing. Welcoming. This morning she shed tears of joy.

Blake called out, “On the count of three, release. Ready?”

Carson bent closer to Delphine, holding her near. She stared at the dolphin’s face, her sweet, perpetual smile, committing each feature to memory. It was a bittersweet moment having to let go.

“One,” called Blake. “Two.”

“Good-bye,” Carson whispered.

“Three.”

Sequentially, they released their hold on the dolphin and stepped back, Carson last. Delphine floated in the water between them for a moment. Then, like a shot, she swam off.

Everyone cheered. From behind her, she heard Nate shouting, “Good-bye, Delphine!” Carson stared out, following Delphine’s path. She was heading in the right direction, into the heart of the Cove. Then, suddenly, the dolphin turned around. Carson saw her arching in the water, speeding back toward them. Toward her.

“Oh, no . . .”

Carson shared a quick glance of worry with Blake. They both knew that if Delphine did not swim off, if she lingered with the humans, she could be deemed nonreleasable.

Everyone on the team had silenced, watching to see what the dolphin would do.

“Don’t come back,” Carson murmured, hands pressed together as in prayer. “Swim away.”

The dolphin swam to within fifteen feet of them, then veered off to swim in a small circle. Twice she circled. Carson watched with the others as Delphine dove back under the water. Her tail fluke waved in the air before disappearing.

“Did that dolphin just wave good-bye?” said Dr. Spencer with disbelief.

Dr. Fair smiled. “Never underestimate a dolphin.”

They all continued watching to see where she’d resurface. Holding a collective breath.

“There!” Blake shouted. “At two o’clock.”

In the distance, they saw Delphine leaping in the air, a spray of gray against the sky, before she disappeared again.

After a collective sigh everyone laughed, hugged, and patted backs, delighted with the successful release of another dolphin to the wild. Everyone began walking slowly back to the ramp.

Except Carson.

She stood alone, waist deep in the warm water, staring out after Delphine. She felt a hole in her heart. Letting go was harder than she’d thought it would be. She stood quietly while inside her emotions roiled, seeking one more glimpse of glistening dorsal fin arching over the dark seawater. But she saw nothing. The current ran strong, creating ripples in the water. But Delphine was gone.

“Carson?”

Carson swung around to find Blake standing beside her in the water. She studied his face, long and slender, the thick, dark brows over eyes the color of chocolate, which were searching her face with worry. Blake had come back for her. Of course he had. . . .

Carson would later blame it on the high emotions of the day, the highs and lows she’d endured the past few weeks. But seeing Delphine this morning, watching her swim off to join her family, to live her life fully, as she was meant to, brought Carson to the brink. The tide of tears that she’d been holding in erupted like a dam bursting. Carson fell into Blake’s arms and released great heaving sobs and torrents of tears. Blake tightened his strong arms around her and held her close.

She heard his voice by her ear. “I know . . . it’s okay.” Blake held her close, bringing his lips to her forehead. “I’m here.”

“I know you are,” she choked out, lifting her arms around his neck. “You’re always here for me.”

“Baby”—he held her tighter—“don’t you know I always will be?”

She pulled away and wiped her eyes. He looked tired, his dark hair damp and askew. She saw worry etched in his brow. Love shining in his eyes. A single drop of water hung from his impossibly long lashes.

She reached up to wipe the water from his face. “I love you.”

Blake’s eyes flared. “I love you.”

In a swoop of passion he lowered his face and kissed her. A long, unrelenting kiss that was filled with yearning and desire. One that forgave the past and promised a bright future. Carson stood waist deep in the water in Blake’s arms and kissed him with all her heart, not caring who saw.

When he loosened his arms and the water flowed in the space between them, he glanced over his shoulder. People clustered at the shore, waiting for them. “We have an audience.” He chuckled low.

“Let them watch.” Carson stepped back and washed her face with water. “They think I’m crazy already.”

“Maybe not crazy.”

She slanted a look his way, daring him to continue.

“Unique. And mine.”

“I’ll take that.”

Blake held out his hand.

Carson took it but stayed still, holding him back as he began to walk. He turned to her, his expression quizzical.

“There’s something else I’d like to talk to you about. Alone.”

“Sure.” Again he searched her face. Then turning, he guided her through the thick, sucking pluff mud back to the ramp, where the truck was already loaded and locked and the engine was running.

Blake said farewell to his team while Carson hugged the family and told them they’d meet them at the house later. Alone, she and Blake walked to a bench along the waterway. They swept away a layer of sand and dirt and sat side by side, holding hands.

“We have our best chats on park benches,” she told him.

“Except Hobbs should be here.”

“How is the old dog?”

“He misses you.”

“Tell him I’m getting him a big ol’ chew toy.”

Carson looked at their joined hands and composed herself. Then, placing her free hand on top of their joined ones, she looked up to meet his expectant gaze.