Page 23 of Deadly Target (Rocky Mountain Courage 2)

EIGHT

Holding on to Erin’s limp form, Nathan rode the river until he could gain his freedom and break away from the current. His limbs ached with the effort of fighting the torrent, but he was almost there, and this could be his last chance to save them.

No, it definitely would be his last chance. Fighting the river had sucked away his energy, and he couldn’t last much longer, even though he prayed hard and willed himself to keep going.

He aimed for that good stretch of safe, dry land that jutted out right before the canyon narrowed. He had to make that or they would both die. Erin had drowned, but he held on to hope that he could revive her. He couldn’t consider any other outcome. With the last burst of strength in his limbs, he swam them toward the bank until his feet finally touched the bottom. He groaned with the effort to keep himself anchored to the rocks. Legs cramping, Nathan carried Erin out of the flood field and onto higher ground to a patch of wild rye. He kept going in case another wave rushed at them. But he believed the dam had released all the trapped water, and the flow now would be even and steady.

What destruction the breaking dam had caused downstream he couldn’t know.

And right now, he didn’t care.

He cared about only one thing. One person.

God, please, help me.

After finding the first decent spot to gently place Erin on the ground, he immediately administered CPR.

“Come on, baby. Come on...”

God, please don’t let her die on me. Don’t let this happen. You brought us this far. We’re here now, and I could sure use your help.

“Erin, come on. You can do this. Wake up. Fight, honey, fight for it. We need you.” I ... need you.

His cell phone hadn’t survived the torrent, so there was no calling 911 to rescue them or revive Erin if Nathan failed. He continued performing the cycles of chest compressions, and then breathing for Erin, and he wouldn’t stop.

He couldn’t stop.

Quitting would be giving up on her. He sure hoped she hadn’t given up on herself.

Then ... movement. A breath on her own. Her chest rose.

Nathan’s own breath hitched.

A cough.

More coughing and choking. Erin rolled to her side and released all the water that had been trapped in her lungs, then she dragged in a ragged breath.

His heart jumped to his throat, apprehension and relief both swelling in his chest.

Nathan watched and waited. He sucked in oxygen too—now that she was breathing, he could breathe. Even now, his heart jackhammered as hope flooded his soul.

He held out his hand, wanting to touch her, to reassure her, but he kept his distance. “You’re safe, Erin. You’re safe now.”

She sat up and leaned back on her arms. Mud, branches, and debris clung to her hair. A few scratches ran across her cheeks, mingling with the grime and dirty river water.

Tears streaked through the muck on her face.

The pain of his own tears ached behind his eyes. “I thought ... I thought I’d lost you.”

He realized the words held a deeper meaning for him than he’d intended. Had she caught that meaning? Certainly he’d already lost her long ago. They were over. Or so he had thought, but looking at her now, he admitted a small part of him hoped what they’d had before wasn’t completely gone.

The desperation of the moment must have taken hold, and Nathan shook off the errant thoughts.

“What happened?” she finally asked, her throat sounding scratchy.

How far back did she need him to go? “The dam broke.”

He’d heard a loud rumble just as the earth quaked, and then a crack. “Maybe all the earthquakes, over time, had weakened it. Dad had commented”—the thought of his dad sent a pang through his chest—“that he couldn’t believe it hadn’t been replaced. It’s been around for decades.”