She dragged the small raft to the water’s edge, took off her coat, and stuck it in her bag. “Can you add my pack to yours?”
He nodded and strapped her smaller bag just under his bedroll. Its material appeared stronger than that of his haversack, but less abrasive than the canvas of his tent. He wanted to ask her about it, but figured it could wait. His stomach pitched, and he thought he might be sick, but he hadn’t eaten in days. He had nothing to lose but water.
“Get on.”
He took a deep breath and forced himself to kneel on the platform. The water was murky and brown and smelled of decaying vegetation. He forced himself to look away.
“Hold on.” Diamond waded into the water and grabbed one end of the raft, drawing it away from shore. Jesse felt it rock as it left the safety of the ground and began to float. Cold water doused his knees, and he worried about Diamond, submerged now to her waist. They would need that fire when—if—they made it across.
Diamond must have read the apprehension on his face. “Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”
He gave her a smile. He could almost believe that she did.
* * *
Diamond clamped her teeth to keep them from chattering. She’d known the water would be cold, but it took all her strength to force herself into the icy depths all the while keeping up a cheery facade. Jesse might insist he be the one to wade if he knew how miserable and freaked out she really was.
Maybe she should have taken his advice and waited until tomorrow. The day was still warm for early April, but once the sun set temperatures would plummet. But she’d been so angry about Jesse’s passivity and her own indecision she’d needed to act now. How the man ever killed anyone in battle she couldn’t imagine. But that was different, a kill or be killed situation. George had betrayed them and stolen their means of escape, but he hadn’t physically threatened them. Not since he’d threatened to rape her, anyway.
Diamond shuddered at the memory, the frigid water doing nothing to chase away the chill. Diamond had not felt so vulnerable since she’d been a small girl and the soldiers told her and her mother that a roadside bomb had killed her father in Afghanistan. The news destroyed their safe little world and set Diamond on the path to becoming a reporter herself. She, however, planned to play it safe and never put herself in danger. She wanted to honor her father, not replicate his mistakes.
How’s that working out? Diamond plunged forward, towing the raft behind her. The water had not yet risen above her head. The bottom of the lake squished beneath her feet and she was glad of her shoes and pants as she brushed against underwater foliage and who knows what else. A faint scent of decay hovered in the air. She remembered a story she’d heard as a kid. Supposedly an Indian village lurked beneath the surface, wiped out by the surge of water created by the earthquake. She supposed there would be little left of it fifty years later, but thinking about it still gave her the creeps.
Shoving aside thoughts of drowned settlements, Diamond considered how she’d become entrenched in a situation as fraught with danger as anything her father had encountered. She’d refused to be a war correspondent. She considered herself a hard-hitting reporter, but never went after drug dealers or mob bosses. She’d staked out suspected murderers, but either with a partner or her handy vial of pepper spray. Too bad the pepper spray had been in her backpack when she first encountered George.
Despite all her precautions, she was now in a war zone trying to help a wounded man escape from a pursuing army and at the mercy of scumbags like White. After adding in the primitive state of nineteenth-century medicine and lack of women’s’ rights, Diamond was in even more peril than her father. And if she couldn’t locate Bob and Anne, she might never get home.
The water crept higher, reaching her chin. Time to swim. She circled to the other end of the raft, to push instead of pull, kicking with her feet.
“You’re an amazing young woman, Diamond,” Jesse said. He looked pale and was shivering as much as she was despite being relatively dry. “I won’t forget what you’ve done for me and will do whatever it takes to help you find the people you’re looking for.”
“Thanks. I’m counting on you.” She knew he’d keep his word, if possible. If he survived. George’s opinion of his chances haunted her, although she’d downplayed it for Jesse’s benefit. Jesse was very sick, and they were alone in the wilderness without even a nineteenth-century doctor to treat him.
“Is it too hard to push me? I can swim with you.”
“No, you need to keep the packs dry. I’m fine.” A lie. Their speed dropped to a crawl, but at least the vigorous exercise helped keep her warm. If Jesse got wet, it would surely sign his death certificate.
When her feet reached the ground again, she returned to pulling, trying to make up for lost time. Time blurred. She pushed and pulled, constantly straining her muscles which trembled with fatigue and began to seize up in the icy chill. Jesse monitored the sun, trying to guide her straight east, for if she went in circles they would never make it.
At long last they sighted land and Diamond dredged up the last of her strength for the final push. As soon as the raft touched the shore, she crawled out of the water and collapsed. She heard Jesse scramble off the raft and dump his pack, but could no nothing by lie there and shiver.
“We need to get you warm.” He pulled off her sweatshirt, the tee-shirt she wore underneath and even unfastened her bra. Diamond hadn’t
