Before they even began the journey, Abby feared one thing more than any other. River crossings. There’d been no end of tales of people drowning in the treacherous rivers.
She stood on the banks of the Kansas River running full and turbulent. She shivered at the rushing roar of the water. Her only consolation came from the knowledge that Ben had overseen every step of the construction of the ferry. Miles Cavanaugh had been the first to use it and showed no fear. Since then many more had crossed.
Yes, it looked frightening, especially when the current caught the ferry and threatened to take the whole affair downstream. But the men seemed to know what they were doing.
Once the ferry had tipped dangerously as it twisted in the river but Ben had managed to steer it right. Her attention had been glued to the bulge and swell of his muscled arms, clearly visible with his wet shirt plastered to his skin. He was one of the bigger men on this trip and put his size to good use in the river.
Watching him, she’d pressed a hand to her heart feeling it thud with a combination of excitement and—
Something she would avoid admitting but the word could not be refused. A claiming sort of admiration. As if she had some right to admire him.
She didn’t. It was foolish to think otherwise. So she welcomed the diversion of following the wagons that had opted to use this Papin fellow’s ferry.
Not that escaping the necessity of watching Ben was the only reason. She wouldn’t feel at ease until she saw the Jensen family had crossed safely. It didn’t make sense, but she felt a strong need to protect the twins. Perhaps knowing they were safe would somehow ease the loss of her twin. No one would understand her way of thinking. She wasn’t even sure she did.
She reached the other ferry just as the Jensen wagon boarded and she waved to the twins who peered out the back of the wagon. The older girls each clutched one of the little ones and peered out the front. Mrs. Jensen held the reins while Mr. Jensen stood beside the oxen, holding them so they wouldn’t bolt.
The ferry left the shore, floating like an ark upon the waters. The twins continued to wave.
The current caught the vessel and twisted it about.
Abby caught her breath. But she’d seen this happen before and the men had turned it right.
This time, despite the frantic efforts of the men, this ferry did not turn. Water came up over one corner. Her lungs locked tight.
Mrs. Jensen yelled at the animals. They strained toward the highest corner. But it was too late. The wagon tipped.
The twins slipped out the back and into the river as the wagon slid into the water. She blinked. It had all happened so suddenly she could almost believe she’d imagined it.
“No,” she wailed, her voice lost in the hubbub of men rushing to save the wagon. She glimpsed Annie, her face white as flour then she strained to see where the twins were.
She could taste the fear in her heartbeat as she searched for them. They weren’t in the river. Someone must have plucked them to safety. But no one held either of the twins.
Where are you? Whether or not she called aloud, she couldn’t say and it wouldn’t have made any difference. No one would have heard her above the shouting.
There. She saw a little blond head bobbing downstream and raced down the bank.
There was the other. Oh, thank God. Please don’t let them drown. A wooden yoke floated by.
“Grab it.” She’d never yelled so loud in all her life. Whether or not the children heard her, they grabbed the wood and hung on as the current dragged them onward.
Abby raced up the bank until she caught up to them. “Swim for shore.”
They thrashed about, putting them in danger of drowning but made no progress toward the bank. The current held them in its grip.
“I’ll get you.” She dived into the river. The cold water stole her breath. The current was fierce, but she used it to her advantage and swam after the children. She caught up to them and grabbed the yoke, taking a minute to catch her breath.
Tears streamed down Cathy’s face. “I’m scared.”
Donny’s eyes were wide enough to swallow his face.
“You’ll be okay. I’ll take you to shore.” She tried pushing the yoke as the children clung to it but the unwieldy wood refused to leave the current. She was a strong swimmer but she fought the river and the weight of her sodden layers of clothes.
She glanced toward the bank. Why had no one else come to help? A look over her shoulder gave her the answer. Everyone continued to help with the Jensen’s wagon. Had no one else seen the twins fall into the river?
Please help me. Please give me strength. She’d need one arm free to swim. That meant she could only take one child at a time. Every heartbeat seared her veins. How would she choose?
Cathy sank lower in the water.
Abby grabbed her. “Hang on.” Donny had his arms over the yoke. Hating to pick one over the other, yet knowing Donny had a better hold on the yoke, she grabbed Cathy under her arms. “Relax and let me pull you along.”
Her gaze lingered a painful moment on Donny. “You hang on and I’ll be back to get you.” She turned toward the bank, paddling against the current but the shore did not get any closer. She was being sucked under. From deep inside, she found the strength to fight but all she could do was keep herself and Cathy’s heads above water. “Help. Help.” Where was everyone? Where was Donny? He and the wooden yoke had disappeared, swept away by the rushing waters.
“Lord, save us.”
* * *
“Ben!” The urgency in Rachel’s voice jerked his attention to her so fast he almost lost his footing on the wet wood of the ferry as it approached the bank of the river.
“What’s wrong?”
“The Jensen twins are missing and so is Abby.”
He clambered from the water, alarm burning through his veins at the tone of her voice. “What do you mean? How can anyone be missing? Surely they’re just off exploring.” Maybe away from the noise and confusion of this place. Perhaps they’d stopped to pick flowers.
In hurried tones she explained how the Jensen wagon had ended up in the river.
His whipped about to look at the turbulent waters. “Then what happened?”
“I didn’t see it but I did notice Abby dash along the riverbank. I wondered where she was going in such a hurry.” She grabbed Ben’s elbow. “Then we noticed the twins were missing. Annie said Abby saw them fall into the river. If she thought they were in danger—”
Her concern echoed his own. He raced along the riverbank. “Abby,” he called. The current was swift. The water cold. How long since she’d hurried after the twins? Had she jumped in to rescue them?
Without a doubt, he knew she would. How well could she swim? Why didn’t he know? After all, they’d had a couple of outings to a lake when they were spending time together. Only their interest had not been in the water. Or swimming.
“There.” He didn’t know if Rachel had followed or kept up but ahead he made out two blond heads in the river. One an adult, the other a child. Abby and Cathy. Where was Donny?
The pair disappeared under water. He waited for them to resurface, his heartbeat thundering inside his head, his lungs drawing in so fiercely it was impossible to pull in strengthening air.
They didn’t come up. They were drowning. His heart exploded with a rush of hot blood. Not if he could do anything about it.
He dove into the river and swam to where he’d last seen them. Filling his lungs, he pushed under water. Where were they? He swam underwater until he had to surface for air.
“Abby,” he roared. Not that he expected an answer. He simply had to express the fear that threatened to overwhelm him. “God, help me.”
He dove back under the water twisting and turning like an overwrought fish, hoping...praying he’d find her. Did he see something? Was that—? Yes. Fabric. He swam that direction. Abby. Oh, Abby. Don’t die. Her arm clutched Cathy to her.
Don’t either of you die. Not now. Please not now. Help me, God. Help me.
He grabbed her. His lungs cried out for air. He surfaced and swam toward shore with his heavy load.
Hands reached out and drew Abby and Cathy to the bank. More hands pulled him safely to dry ground. He lay on his back, exhausted and out of breath. But in ten seconds he forced his trembling limbs to act and staggered to where Rachel pressed on Cathy’s back.
She shook her head.
No, God. Don’t let her die.
Where was Abby? There. Mr. Henshaw pumped on her back, expelling water from her lungs.
Ben fell on his knees at her side. “Abby, don’t you die.” He wanted to say so much more but he didn’t have the right. “Don’t you die.” He could not think beyond those words, the alternative too overwhelming to contemplate. Don’t die. Don’t die. God, don’t let her die. The words wailed through him in an endless litany.
She coughed and water spewed from her mouth.
Ben helped Mr. Henshaw sit her up. She coughed again and again. And sucked in air. Her color slowly returned.
She saw Ben and grabbed his hand. “Cathy and Donny?”
He looked toward Cathy where Rachel still pumped on her back.
Abby sobbed into her hand. “Is she...?”
Mr. Henshaw left Abby and shifted to Cathy’s side. “I have an idea. Let’s sit her up.” He rolled her over and he and Rachel sat her upright.
Ben shuddered. She already had the waxen look he associated with death.
Mr. Henshaw lifted Cathy’s arms over her head and lowered them again. Over and over.
Ben had forgotten to breathe until his lungs ached and he released the tension locking them. Someone had brought blankets and draped one over his shoulders and another over Abby’s. He tightened the blanket under her chin and pulled her into his arms. It would have taken an ox pulling on each arm to release his hold. Everyone would credit him with trying to get her warm.
Cathy coughed, the sound shattering the sorrowful silence.
Rachel laughed. “She’s breathing. She’s okay.”
Abby burst into tears. She leaned her head on Ben’s shoulder and sobbed as if her heart had split in two.
He held her tight. “She’s okay,” he murmured over and over.
She sniffed. “Where’s Donny?” Her voice shivered past her teeth.
“They’re looking for him now.”
She pushed away and attempted to get to her feet but her legs refused to hold her. “I must find him.” She tried standing again without success.
“Abby, you’re too weak. Let the others look.” He caught the edges of the blanket to pull her back to his arms.
She waved him aside. “He can’t die. He can’t. I won’t let him.”
She got her feet under her and staggered along the bank.
It would take only one misstep for her to fall into the river again. Ben rushed after her. He had no intention of letting her drown.
“Abby, stop. There’s nothing you can do.”
But she hurried on as fast as her weak legs would take her.
He followed after, his arms out to catch her if she fell.