Читать книгу Bride by Mail - Katy Madison - Страница 12

Chapter Five

My cabin is on the southern side of a small mountain to the northwest of Denver City. The tallest of snow-covered purple peaks can be seen through the windows. The glass was hard to get out here, but well worth the trouble. A quiet woman might appreciate being able to look out on the majestic Rockies, but it is isolated and far from any loved ones you might leave behind.

Jack couldn’t believe Olivia was about to drown in less than three feet of water. She’d surfaced once, but now the current tugged her into the swiftest rapids. Jutting boulders stirred froth. He pitched his rifle and dropped the lantern. To get ahead of her, he hurdled along the uneven bank.

The swollen creek rushed furiously along, tossing and turning her.

His throat squeezed and his heart hammered. He splashed into the water and grabbed a fistful of sodden material. Her weight and the force of the water nearly unbalanced him. His shoulder strained as he braced his feet against the shifting streambed.

He managed to get his arm under her midsection. Her soaking clothes doubled her weight.

Her abdomen heaved against his arm. She thrashed against him. Her heel connected with his shin.

Nearly dropping them both into the drink, Jack reared back. “Stop fighting!”

Setting his feet, he lifted her all the way out of the water.

She coughed and sputtered.

His boots squelching, he lugged her to the bank. He set her down. Hacking and choking, she fell to her knees.

Cold stabbed him. His toes stung. He hadn’t noticed the iciness when he’d been trying to pull Olivia out, but he sure as hell noticed it now. Soaked through and through, Olivia had to be worse. Hell, if she didn’t drown, she’d probably die of exposure.

He heaved in a couple of deep breaths. “Are you all right?”

He didn’t really expect an answer, but she lifted a hand. A flash of white caught his attention. He leaned closer. She held her soap. Merde, had she plunged into the water after a bar of soap?

His heart thundered. He should toss her back out in the churning stream. “What were you thinking?”

She coughed and then pushed up slowly to stand. Scowling, she straightened her spine to the rigid erectness of her normal posture. “I was thinking I’d like a b-b-bath.”

A bark spewed from his mouth. He couldn’t have said if he was amused or angry. Both, perhaps.

Did his wife have a sense of humor under all that frosty hauteur? God help him if she was serious. He stared at her and she stared back.

“C-c-could we go b-back to the f-f-fire?” She turned and took a dragging step toward the lantern. Thank God it hadn’t tipped and started a forest fire.

He had to get her dried and warm. The wet cotton would suck the warmth out of her faster than a deerfly could suck blood. She’d end up with pneumonia or worse. Olivia took another slow step. The sodden wet weight of her skirts tripped her.

Olivia squelched a couple of awkward steps away from the frigid stream. Her soaking-wet dress, nightgown and petticoats dragged. She gathered the brown twill hem in numb fingers. Shaking uncontrollably, she wrung out water.

She couldn’t feel her feet. Not daring to look at Jack for fear of the disappointment she’d find, she wished herself far away.