Her Rocky Mountain Defender by Jennifer D. Bokal

Author:Jennifer D. Bokal [Bokal, Jennifer D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2018-01-09T14:49:52+00:00

Chapter 7

Roman stepped into a hole, a deep divide in the middle of the stream. Cold water punched him in the gut, stealing his breath and pinching his chest in a vise. The backpack looped through his arm lightened and floated on top of the water. He turned for Madelyn.

She was gone.

He drew a deep breath and dove beneath the surface. The muddy water stung his eyes, the silt so thick that it rendered him blind. He reached out, waving his arms, hoping to connect with flesh or cloth or hair. Anything. There was nothing. His lungs burned and he surfaced. She was still gone, vanished, but she was close—he refused to believe anything less.

Another breath. Another trip into the icy, dark abyss.

Roman pushed off from the bottom, letting the current carry him downstream. He waved his arms before him in a wide arc. He kicked out, propelling himself forward and sweeping his arms back and forth the whole time. Again, his breath gave out and he surfaced, gasping.

How long had Madelyn been under? Soon, he wouldn’t be searching for Madelyn, but rather her corpse. Roman would be damned if he was going to let that happen.

He took another breath, filling his lungs past the point of pain. The current pressed him down and dragged him along the bottom. His knees connected with something solid. He felt pressure, but not the blinding flash of pain he would expect from bone striking against a rock. Whatever he’d hit was soft and malleable. He pictured a lifeless hand floating in the current.

Roman twisted around, and his fingers danced along the streambed. His lungs burned. His legs and feet cramped painfully and every cell in his body screamed for life-giving oxygen. He refused to give up. He turned again and searched the stream bottom again, inch by slow inch.

It had been her. He knew it. And if he surfaced now, she would be lost. Then again, if he didn’t get some air and out of the cold water, he’d be lost, as well.

One more foot. Just one more.

His fingers were well past numb but they brushed against something fluid, like the creek but with substance. It was fabric. His fist closed.

Keeping his grip firm, Roman pulled himself toward the cloth. It was Madelyn. He quickly found one shoulder and then the other. Arms hooked underneath, he pushed up and broke the surface. Madelyn’s head lolled to the side, her skin was pale and her lips were blue. He felt for a pulse and found none.

“Madelyn?” He shook her and slapped each cheek. “Madelyn?”

The current buffeted against Roman, setting him off balance and pulling Madelyn in a deadly game of tug-of-war.

“I have to get you to land,” he said. He refused to believe that she couldn’t hear him, that she would never hear him again. “We’ll get you dry and warm.” He’d found a place where he could stand again in the middle of the stream as he considered his next steps.

Head back

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