Quick tears of relief blinded Leah for just a second when her fingers tightened over the loose reins. Using every ounce of her strength she managed to control the frightened horses, pull the wagon to the right past the deepest part of the hole, and inch them toward the far bank.
The stranger from the shore swam toward her. “Good girl. Now hold them steady.”
“Steven!” Leah yelled down at him as the horses touched land. Even while the back of the wagon was still in the water, Leah was pulling off her shoes. She’d always been a strong swimmer and now she wondered if the others realized Steven had fallen into the river.
“Here!” Leah gasped, tossing the man the reins just before she jumped down from the wagon and into the water.
“What the hell—!” the man began and then gave his attention to the horses.
“Where’s Leah going?” Wesley demanded of the man.
“She yelled something about Steven.”
“He’s not here?” Wes said, but was in the water after Leah in seconds.
Leah dived for what seemed to her like hours, but there was no sign of Steven. Wesley and the stranger joined her after a few minutes, and when she surfaced she told them where she’d already looked.
Near dusk they found him, lying at the bottom at the edge of the river, the side of his head dented from his fall. Wesley pulled him onto land.
Leah stood over him, panting, exhausted from the afternoon’s search. After the first hour she’d discarded her dress, since the long skirt hampered her. Now, in her dripping underwear, she was too cold, too tired to care about proprieties.
Wesley, seeing Justin looking at Leah, removed his shirt and slipped it over her, concealing her almost to her knees.
“No! No! No!” screamed Kimberly as she came toward them, her eyes on her brother’s body.
Wesley moved away from Leah to comfort Kim in her grief and, if possible, Leah’s shoulders drooped even more. Kim and Wes walked away into the growing darkness, Kim’s sobs breaking the nighttime stillness.
For a moment neither the stranger nor Leah spoke.
“You ought to get into some dry clothes,” the man said softly, watching her.
Leah merely nodded once and stood there, shivering.
The man moved closer to her. “I’m Justin Stark and you’re—?”
Leah couldn’t even answer him as she stared down at Steven’s cold, lifeless body. Tears began to roll down her cheeks.
Without another word, Justin swept Leah into his arms.
She tried to pull away, but she was too weak, or perhaps she needed comfort, even from a stranger.
“Go ahead and cry, little girl,” Justin whispered. “Anybody as brave as you deserves to cry.”
Leah wasn’t sure where all the tears came from—or why they came—but she began to cry as she’d never cried before. It was so good to be close to someone, to be held in a man’s strong arms.
When the man unbuckled a blanket from his horse, Leah was hardly aware of it. Even when he gently removed her wet clothing she didn’t protest. He wrapped her nude, wet body in the blanket, snuggled her against him, and sat with her on a fallen log. At some time he began to rock her and Leah gradually stopped crying, but she clung to him. Even when she fell into a deep sleep, she still clung to him.
“Is she asleep?” Wesley whispered to Justin.
Justin nodded. “You have a bed made up for her?”
Wes glanced at his boot toe. “I only made one for Kim. Leah usually makes her own bed.” Justin didn’t say another word and Wes disappeared for several minutes. “It’s ready,” he said when he returned.
Very carefully Justin stood while holding the sleeping Leah, and as if she were a fragile piece
of glass, he laid her on the pallet of blankets Wesley had prepared.
For a moment Justin knelt over her. Then he stood and motioned Wes away into the silence of the forest. “Who is she?” Justin demanded.