“You do?” He seemed to stand taller, as if that truly meant something to him. “I’m certain I would like them too, especially considering the wonderful daughter they raised.”
Celia couldn’t think of anything to say to that. The riverbank was high here, the river itself cutting into the land just a few feet below. A single tree grew precariously on the side of the steep, short hill. “Jack—oh!”
Her foot had slipped almost the second she’d begun to speak. And the moment she began to slide down the bank, the mud seemed to want more, pulling at her until she’d slipped to her knees, her hand yanking away from Jack’s and the cold water looming closer.
“Celia!” he shouted and tried to reach for her, but the mud was slick, and she couldn’t stop sliding downward toward the lazy, but freezing, river. She shrieked when her foot hit the water. It was as if she’d plunged it into ice.
He leapt forward and grabbed hold of the tree, sliding as he went, his feet going out from underneath him. But he caught himself and stretched an arm out to her. “Grab hold!”
She reached out her hand, trying desperately to catch his fingers, but the tips of hers only grazed his. “I can’t reach!” The motion made her slip further down. She pulled one knee upward, trying to climb and keep it out of the river even as her other leg seemed to go numb from the cold water.
Jack hauled himself up, just far enough to snap a large branch from the tree. “Here!” He slid back down and stretched it out toward her.
This time, her hand reached around the branch.
“Both hands!” he shouted.
Heart pounding, Celia tried to gather the courage to move her other hand to the branch. It seemed as if her fingers digging into the muddy bank were the only things keeping her from sliding entirely into the water below.
“Trust me,” he said, pleading eyes locking with hers.
She gulped, and, placing every ounce of her trust in Jack, let go of the bank to grab hold of the branch. With a strength she didn’t know he had, Jack pulled her upward with one hand, the other still locked around the tree’s trunk.
Slowly, she moved farther away from the water. When she was close enough to Jack, she grabbed hold of his arm, and then, the tree trunk.
Breathing hard, he scrambled up the bank until he was on the opposite side of the tree. “Here,” he said, and motioned to her to follow him.
Celia pushed against the ground, finding little bits of purchase here and there until she was crouched next to Jack. He pressed his feet against the trunk and then reached for her. Wrapping his arms around her legs, he lifted her upward. She crawled easily onto the little path on which they’d been traveling earlier.
She turned immediately as her body fought to catch its breath. Jack was balanced on the trunk, his head just barely clearing the top of the hillside. With a leap, he threw his arms over the top and hoisted himself upwards until he was lying next to her, both of them mud-covered and breathing hard.
After a moment, he turned to her. “That wasn’t quite what I had in mind for a day of fun and relaxation.”
Celia laughed so hard she began to choke. Jack reached over and gently rubbed her back until she stopped. His eyes caught hers, and suddenly she felt as if she couldn’t breathe all over again. They were alive. Jack had saved her. One of her shoes was entirely soaked through, but she could feel her toes and she was alive.
She lifted a hand and pushed the hair from his face. He lay perfectly still, as if her touch had some sort of power over him. Hesitating, but fueled with the sheer joy of simply being here, whole and breathing, next to this river with him, Celia let her finger drift down to touch the scar that sat nestled in the corner of his mouth. She wanted to know how he’d gotten it, but it was too hard to muster words at this moment. She’d ask him later. Right now, she simply wanted to be.
His hand clasped itself around the back of hers, but he didn’t stop her. The scar felt no different from the skin around it, although it lacked the barely-there stubble of hair that he must have shaved this morning.
Slowly, Jack pulled her hand down but didn’t let go. He kept it safely inside his, protective. Celia felt her worries drift away, every single one of them, as if they were only old, bad memories, sailing away on the Nebraska wind.
He rose up on his elbow and leaned over her. Celia’s breath seemed to tangle in her throat. He leaned closer, until his lips were but an inch above hers. Celia’s eyes fluttered shut, and despite the rapid and loud beating of her heart and the fear it might explode if he came any closer, she wished with all her might that Jack might kiss her.
A very feather-like touch against her lips sent a shiver up her spine, and then it was gone. In fact, he felt gone despite the fact that he still held her hand. Her eyes flew open to find him leaned back on his elbow and searching the path along the river behind her.
Celia sat up, her hand pulling away from his, and turned to see what he was looking at.
It was a pair of people, strolling along the path. Celia glanced at Jack, and without a word, they both scrambled to their feet. He offered her a muddy elbow, and she wrapped an equally muddy arm through it.
He paused a moment
