stopped, inhaled sharply, then tried again.
“Not too fast.” He hung his head out the window as water streamed up the door. “Okay, a little harder.”
She hit the gas and the engine’s fan came on. “Not too much,” he cautioned. She slowed, but then the engine sputtered and missed. “Stop!” He jerked his head back inside.
“What’s wrong?” Jordan asked. The Jeep vibrated roughly, coughing and stumbling badly.
“Water probably got into the engine.”
“Water? But how do we-”
The vehicle bucked, jolting them forward, then died.
The river’s rush filled the sudden silence. Water splashed past in the light of the Jeep’s high beams. “Try to start it,” he said.
She cranked the engine. It churned and whined in the silence. She turned it off and tried again.
“You might as well stop,” he finally said when it didn’t catch. “We’ll have to let it dry out.”
“How long will that take?”
“Hard to say. A few hours maybe.”
“A few hours!” Her gaze flew to his. “But we can’t just sit here and wait.”
“No.” He kept his gaze steady on hers. “We need to keep going. We’ll come back later and tow the Jeep.”
She bit her lip as that shock registered, and tension tightened her elegant jaw. But after several long seconds, she nodded. “So how do you want to do this?”
His respect for her rose. She was a fighter; he’d give her that much. Despite the setback, she didn’t balk.
He returned his gaze to the river. “We can use the rope. We’ll tie it off to the bumper.”
“You think it’s that deep?”
“Probably not, but the rocks could be slick. We’ll hold on to it for balance.”
“What about the dog?”
“He can swim.”
“But what if he goes the wrong way? He might head back toward the fire.”
He frowned back at the dog huddled behind his seat. The dog’s worried gaze lifted to his. “I’ve still got that beef jerky in my bag. Won’t he follow the smell of that?”
“Not if he’s scared.” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. “I can carry him across first, then come back and help with the bags.”
The muscles along his jaw flexed. He wasn’t that damn helpless. “I’ll carry the bags. And if you’re that worried about the dog, tie him to the other end of the rope. Then you can pull him along.”
“That’s a great idea.” Her lips curved, and her blatant approval blocked the air in his lungs.
And without warning, the old dizziness seeped through his brain. That heady, off-kilter feeling that made him want to promise the moon. To do anything to feel her admiration, her respect.
Jordan grabbed her bag from the backseat and stuffed her purse inside. Then she propped it between the seats and picked up the rope. “Are you going to take off your boots?”
Still feeling light-headed, he pulled his attention back to the problem at hand. “No, the rocks could be sharp.”
“Then I’ll keep my tennis shoes on.” She handed him the rope, then pushed her seat farther back. Rising to one knee, she bent and lifted the dog. “You really do stink,” she said as she slid with him into her seat. She kissed the top of his head and rubbed his ears. “But we’re still not going to leave you.”
She shot Cade a grin. “At least he’ll get a bath out of this.”
Impressed that she could joke under pressure, he shook his head. She was a trooper, all right. And that lethal combination of feminine warmth and grit made her hard to resist.
“Tie this to his collar.” He handed her the end of the rope. “We’ll hook the other end to the bumper and hold on to that.”
“Got it.” She threaded the rope under the dog’s collar and secured the knot. Then she took a deep breath to gather her courage and pushed on her door. It didn’t budge, so she shoved again, hard.
The door swung slowly open and she looked out. The dark, swirling water lapped at the floorboards, and dread spiked through her nerves. Good God, she didn’t want to do this.
But Cade needed her help, and so did the dog. She sucked in her breath and hopped out. And shrieked.
“Cold?” Cade asked.
“No, it’s great,” she lied, shivering wildly. “Jump right in.”
Cade’s low chuckle drifted on the night air. She turned, set the dog back on her seat and grabbed the rope. “You stay here,” she told the dog. Then she looked at Cade. He’d attached the headlamp to his hard hat and put it on.
“I’ll tie the other end to the bumper,” she said. “I’ll come back for my bag and the dog.”
Locking her jaw against the cold, she waded to the front of the Jeep. The icy water soaked through her lightweight sneakers and plastered her jeans to her calves.
Cade’s door swung open, then closed. “You were right about the stones,” she said as he came over. Even with her shoes on, she could feel them poking her feet.
She threaded the rope around the bumper and knotted it several times. She worked quickly, but her hands grew stiff from the cold. Cade switched on his headlamp for extra light.
“Let’s see.” He grabbed the rope near the knots and pulled. “Looks good.”
A sense of victory spread through her, and she grinned. Maybe tying a few knots wasn’t important, but at least she’d done something right.
Cade had both bags slung over his good shoulder. “Here,” she said, reaching up. “I’ll take mine.”
“Never mind. I’ve got it.”
“Don’t be silly.” Especially since he needed that arm for the rope.
“I said I’ve got it.”
She recognized that stubborn tone. “Fine. I’ll get the dog.” Her teeth chattering now, she waded slowly around her door to the seat.
“Here we go.” She lifted the trembling dog, then paused to scratch his ear. “You know, you’re pretty heavy for someone so skinny.” Checking to making sure his rope didn’t catch, she stepped back and closed the door.
Cade waited in the path of the headlights, the rest of the rope in his hand. “I’ll go first,” he said. He played out a few feet of line. “Hang on to this part behind me. And you might as well set down the dog. He can swim.”
“In a minute.” She clutched the shaking dog tighter and rubbed her cheek on his head. She didn’t know who needed the comfort more, the dog or herself. “We’ll get through this together,” she whispered.
Cade waited until she grabbed the rope behind him, then started walking toward shore. She followed in his wake, letting the cold rope slide through her hand. The uneven rocks made it hard to stay upright and she tightened her grip on the dog. “We’re okay,” she said, more to herself than to him.
The current pushed against her knees as she waded along. She tried not to think about the dark, rushing water turning her feet to ice. She focused instead on Cade’s strong back, relying on him to guide her.
Cade stopped a few yards later and waited for her to catch up. “You okay?”
“Yes.” But she knew they’d freeze unless they picked up the pace. “I’d better put the dog down, though.” She reluctantly set him in the water and tugged on the line, relieved when he paddled beside her. “Good boy!”
They started walking again. It was easier moving without the dog in her arms, but the frigid water now crept up her thighs. She waded faster, forcing herself to breathe deeply despite the chills ravaging her body.
But God, it was cold. And the river was wider than she’d thought. For an eternity, she trudged behind Cade, slipping and splashing over the rocks, her teeth chattering nonstop. Then the water lapped her waist, and she gasped.
Cade stopped. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She locked her jaw to stop the clacking and shook her head.
He still looked at her. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I’m f-f-fine. Just c-c-cold.”
“Hell.” He looked ahead at the bank. “We don’t have too far to go.”
But she knew she was slowing him down. He was already injured-badly, she suspected. He couldn’t afford to get chilled.
But the river kept getting deeper. She glanced at the bags dangling from his muscled shoulder. The bags with
