Drew (The Cowboys) (35 page)

“I can’t keep myself up,” Drew called when he drew near her.

Cole reached out, caught her hand. “You’ve got to get rid of those clothes,” he said.

They struggled in the water, performing acrobatics neither had probably performed before, but the waterlogged material of her coat clung to her dress as though they had been sewn together.

“Now your skirts,” Cole said, when Drew finally managed to free herself of the coat.

“I can’t without letting go.”

“Can you keep yourself afloat for a few minutes?”

“I think so.”

“I’ll dive behind you and undo the buttons.”

Cole had never realized how much he depended on his eyes to do even the simplest task. It took three dives to find and undo all the buttons on Drew’s skirt and petticoats. When he resurfaced, she looked exhausted.

“I can’t swim to the shore,” she told him. “It’s too far away.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“There’s no reason for both of us to drown.”

“We’re not going to drown. I’m a strong swimmer.”

“The shore looks at least a mile away. Have you ever swum that far before?”

“Lots of times.” He hadn’t, but he figured this was one lie worth telling. “Relax and let me get a grip under your chin. No matter what happens, stay relaxed and don’t fight me.”

Cole secured a hold on Drew and started toward the shore, which seemed to be farther away than the last time he looked. He told himself to relax. He had a long way to go. It was crucial that he not expend all of his energy now. Both their lives depended on it.

Cole let the river carry him along. He hoped the current would transport them to a place where the river narrowed, but they were caught in one of those enormous, shallow elbows the Mississippi makes so often when it spreads out for miles before narrowing down into a deeper channel.

It soon became clear that his strength would be exhausted before they could reach the shore. He hoped for a sandbar, but though most of the river was too shallow for steamboats, it was too deep for his feet to touch bottom. Looking around for any possible help, trying to stem the feeling of desperation rising inside him, Cole spied the dark shadow of something floating in the river.

The trunk of an uprooted tree. He had to reach it before the current carried it past. It was their only hope.

Cole sighted a line where he hoped their paths would intersect. Then, summoning his remaining strength, he swam toward the path of the tree trunk. He was able to take hold of an outstretched limb before the log swept past them.

“Grab hold and don’t let go,” he told Drew.

She didn’t waste energy talking. She hooked her arm over the log and held on.

“We have to swim this log out of the main current,” Cole said. “Then we can get it to shore. Otherwise, we’ll just be swept down the river. Hold on and kick.”

For a time Cole feared their efforts would prove futile. The current, steady and strong, swept them along. Cole’s muscles burned with pain. His lungs felt ready to burst, but he couldn’t let up. Safety for him and Drew lay on the distant shore. He refused to let himself think of failure. That was not an option. He couldn’t have found the woman he loved only to lose her.

“We’re not getting any closer,” Drew said.

“We’re coming to a curve in the river,” Cole said. “The current will push us toward the edge of the channel. When I tell you, paddle and kick for all you’re worth.” He didn’t tell her this was their last chance. Only their constant swimming had kept their bodies from succumbing to the cold. But they couldn’t last forever. If they didn’t get out of the water soon, the river would win.

Cole waited, judging the strength of the current, the arc of the curve, guessing at the energy they had left. They would get only one chance.

“Now.”

Cole kicked as hard as he could, but he could feel the weight of his wet underclothes pulling against him, draining strength from his muscles, stealing power from each kick. It could only be worse for Drew. But he was proud of her. She hadn’t panicked when her wet clothes pulled her under. She hadn’t given up, though he could tell from her ragged breathing, her strength was almost gone. They were both soft from spending too much time on trains and in hotel rooms. If they got through this, he would never let his muscles get this weak again.

Cole couldn’t judge the width of the current, but he felt his strength draining away. He couldn’t last much longer. Drew’s breaths were coming in sobs. Neither of them had to speak to know the end was near.

Cole struck out with renewed energy. He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t give up. He felt the current release its hold of them. They floated into one of the quiet eddies that reached to the dark band of trees edging the river.

“We’ve done it,” Cole said. “All we have to do now is get this log to the shore.”

They clung to the log, forcing their nearly exhausted bodies to propel it closer and closer to shore. It was several minutes before Drew answered. “It looks terribly far away.”

“Keep kicking,” Cole said. “It’ll keep you warm.”

It was a long time before Drew spoke again. They were much closer to the shore, close enough to know they would make it to safety. “Isabelle said it wasn’t ladylike for females to swim. Jake said I had to be able to swim across a river in case my horse went under, but I never swam across anything this wide.”

“Neither did I, but we’ll make it.”

He was more worried about the cold now. They had discarded nearly all their clothes. The few garments they had left would be wet and cold, worse than having nothing at all. He would have to find some way to get her warm, but he had no means of starting a fire even if he could find wood. The forest that lined the bank of the river looked unbroken. There would be no plantation house with dry clothes and warm beds waiting for them when they finally struggled ashore. Just empty, cold, dark woods.

Cole felt as if he’d been in the river for most of his life when his foot finally hit something solid. It was only a sandbar, but it was easier to move their log by wading through chest-deep water than by swimming. The river bottom dropped away again, reappeared, and dropped away once more before they finally reached the edge of the river. They climbed out and collapsed on the narrow strip of sandy shore. Once they recovered some of their strength, they would look for a way to climb the high bank.

“I was sure I was going to die,” Drew said after a few minutes.

“I wouldn’t have let that happen.”

“I knew you didn’t have the strength to swim all that distance pulling me behind you.”

“I wouldn’t have left you.”

“I know.”

“Then why can’t you believe I love you?”

“I do.”

“Why did you run away?”

“I was afraid.”

“Of me?”

“Of myself. I was afraid to be in love, of losing control, of putting myself in a position to be hurt.”

Her voice trembled. He could barely see her where she rested in the shadow of the trees that overhung the river, but he was certain she was shivering. He moved next to her, put his arm around her, and drew her close. Both were too exhausted to do more than lean against each other. Wet, soggy clothes made their embrace awkward and uncomfortable, but he was glad to be able to put his arm around her at all. He’d come perilously close to losing her.

He leaned over and kissed her. Her lips were cold and stiff, but she kissed him back.

“Love is about giving, getting, and sharing. It’s not about losing.”

“Then why do I feel so frightened?”

“Because love is something you can’t control. You have to surrender to it, but you don’t have to worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

But Cole knew she had always tried to control every aspect of her life. It was going to be hard to entrust it to someone else.

“Come on. We have to get warm.”

“How?”

“We’ll worry about that once we find a way up the riverbank.”

They walked along the shore, climbing over debris, wading or swimming when the tiny beach disappeared altogether. They didn’t come to a break in the bank until they reached a small stream that emptied into the river. They waded up the stream until they found a place to climb up to the forest floor. Taking Drew by the hand, Cole helped her up the shallow bank.

The trees hadn’t yet lost their foliage. It was virtually impossible to see anything in the stygian darkness. The thick carpet of leaves muffled their footsteps. Cole was trying to decide whether to go north, south, or head inland when he realized they’d wandered onto a place where the leaves had been trodden down.

“We’re on a path,” he said to Drew, his hopes soaring at their luck. “If we follow it, we’re bound to come to a house soon.”

Instead of a house, they found a small cabin that appeared to be used only by hunters. That didn’t encourage Cole to think anyone lived nearby.

“We’ll spend the night here,” he said.

“What if the owners come back?” Drew asked.

“They’re not likely to arrive in the middle of the night.”

It was even darker inside the cabin. It took Cole several minutes of stumbling around, systematically searching each shelf and drawer, before he found a box of matches. The flare from the match showed a nearly bare cabin furnished with a small stove and one bed. He was able to locate an oil lantern before the match flickered and went out.

The sound of Drew’s chattering teeth reminded him of the need for a fire. He lighted the lantern and discovered the wood box was empty.

“Take off the rest of your clothes,” he said, “and wrap yourself in the blankets on the bed.”

“How will you keep warm?”

“I’ll manage. We have to get you warm first.”

“You take one of the blankets. If you hadn’t rescued me, I’d have drowned.”

“That’s okay. I—”

“No. After everything I’ve done to drive you off and the mean things I said, you risked your life to save me. I refuse to take the bed or the blanket and leave you with nothing.”

Cole knew he couldn’t survive sharing the bed with Drew. “I’ll search the cabin. I’m bound to turn up something.”

He made a thorough search while Drew undressed, but the cabin contained no firewood, food, or clothing. Apparently the owner brought everything he needed whenever he came. Or maybe no one came here anymore. Plantations were frequently abandoned when the soil became worn out from overuse.

“You have to get out of your wet clothes, too,” Drew said.

Cole turned. Drew stood in the middle of the room, the blanket pulled tightly around her, her whole body shaking so hard she could hardly get the words out.

“I’m more worried about keeping you warm,” Cole said.

“I can’t be any colder than you. Get out of those wet clothes. I’ll turn my back.”

Cole could see no need for modesty. His underclothes clung to his body, revealing every contour. There were no sheets on the bed, just a second, very thin blanket.

“I’ll strip after I look for some wood,” Cole said. But a search outside the cabin revealed no pile of cut logs and no ax to cut new ones. He couldn’t even find a fallen limb he could use. The forest floor seemed swept bare.

“I couldn’t find anything,” he told Drew when he returned.

“Then we’ll have to use body heat.”

Cole paused, hardly daring to believe he’d heard her correctly.

“I know all about survival,” Drew said. “Jake wouldn’t let any of us go on a trail drive until he was sure we could take care of ourselves.”

“Are you sure? There’s only one bed.”

“We can sleep with our backs to each other.”

Cole didn’t know anything about Drew’s self-control, but he was certain his would fall apart long before dawn.

“Why don’t I wrap you in both blankets?”

“And let you catch pneumonia?”

“I’m not cold.”

“You’re lying.”

“All right, I’m cold, but I don’t know that I can control myself in the same bed with you.”

“Of course you can. We’re adults. We’re not ruled by our urges like children.”

Cole decided he must have regressed to his late teens. Despite being miserably cold and almost totally exhausted, the idea of lying next to Drew, their bare flesh touching, was having a very enlivening effect on him. He didn’t feel nearly as cold or tired as he’d thought.

“You get into bed first,” Cole said. He put a bar across the door. He felt uncomfortable going to sleep in strange country without a weapon.

“I’m ready,” Drew said.

She lay facing the wall, the blanket pulled tightly against her, her body shaking from the cold. Cole set the lamp on a table within reach, put the matches next to it, then turned down the wick until the light went out. He stripped off his underwear. The garments landed on the floor with a soggy plop. He found his way to the bed in the dark and sat down on the bed.

“I’ll put both blankets over us,” he said.

But once in bed, lying back-to-back with the two blankets spread over them, Cole knew their bodies had too little contact to overcome the cold, which had penetrated all the way through them.