Page 71 of The Bodyguard

“I’m fine, thanks.”

Staying crouched down, Jack started counting off all the things in that grass that could come after me: “Sticker burrs, armadillos, stinging nettles, red ants, black ants, fire ants, poison ivy, blackberry brambles, black widows, brown recluses, copperheads, rattlesnakes, water moccasins…”

He waited for me to revise my answer.

I hesitated.

So he added, “Not to mention feral hogs, bobcats, and coyotes.”

Honestly, he’d had me at “armadillos.”

“Fine,” I said, and climbed on.

Jack hooked his arms under my legs and stood up fast enough to make me dizzy—so I clutched him tight. Then he launched back into that patented Jack Stapleton walking pace I now suddenly knew so well.

Riding was nicer. Maybe he’d carry me back.

At the riverbank, the forest dropped away, and so did the earth. Jack stood at the crest of the bank for a minute as we both took in the sight of the river down below and its endless sandy beach.

“That’s the Brazos River?” I asked.

“Yep.”

“It’s wider than I thought. And… browner.”

But Jack didn’t respond. Just launched us down the bank until we made it to the shore.

There, he dropped me pretty fast, and walked off toward the water.

He was heading vaguely north, so I decided to head vaguely south and give us both some space.

It was probably two hundred feet to the water itself, and I let my head tilt down as I walked and marveled at all the different kinds of rocks peppering the sand: brown ones, black ones, stripy ones, bits of animal bones, petrified wood, even fossils. Not to mention driftwood, an occasional tangle of rusty barbed wire, and a notable number of old beer cans. I could see why Jack wanted to come here. Across from us was a high bank with nothing but grass and sky, and all around us was the endless breeze that flowing water makes, making it feel like we were miles and miles from anywhere.

Which, of course, we were.

At the river’s edge, I kicked off my sandals. It was a warm day, and all that jogging to keep up had left me a little hot. The water was clearer up close—and, as I dipped my feet, it felt great. Cool and swirly with refreshing eddies. It felt so good around my ankles that soon I was sloshing out a little further.

I lifted the hem of my sundress. I really wasn’t planning to go past my knees. I was just going to cool off for a minute and enjoy it, honestly. Another few steps, and I was going to turn around. But then, a few things happened all at once.

As I took my next step, I heard a sound like maybe Jack was calling my name, but it was so muffled by the wind, I couldn’t be sure. I turned to look, but as I did… the floor of the river disappeared.

There was just… nothing for my foot to land on. And so I lost my balance and splashed down into the water.

It’s always shocking to land in cold water when you’re not expecting it, but there was something more shocking about the water in that river.

It had a current.

A really strong current.

A current strong enough that when I hit the water, I didn’t bob back up to the surface with a kick or two… because the water tugged me downward.

It all happened so fast.

I was sloshing through the water—and then, within seconds, my head was going under.

It actually gives me shivers to think about it now. How close I came to drowning.

But just as it happened, before I had time to panic, I felt something hard as metal clamp around my arm and haul me back up.