Chapter 15
Etta groaned, snatching the rag from Cressida. “If you don’t leave the house right now and go find something else to do, my head is going to explode. You’re driving me crazy.”
“Well, you need your rest. You had another fall this morning.” Cressida bit the inside of her cheek, her stomach turning; it was possible Etta’s leg was getting worse. “You should see the doctor.”
Glowering, Etta moved around the living room without her crutch, limping, but that was normal. “I don’t need you hovering over me like I’m a sick child, and I don’t need help keeping the house clean. I’m feeling better than I have in a long time, and I can handle this.”
“Please, just at least think about letting me go get the doctor.”
Though Cressida could go to town and fetch the doctor without Etta’s approval, she didn’t want to push too hard. Etta was still an adult with the right to make decisions about her own body.
Even though Cressida desperately wished Etta would allow a doctor to examine her and make sure the injury wasn’t worsening.
“No. I’m fine.” Etta moved to clean one of the tables before turning to motion at the sun shining through the window. “You should go out and enjoy the day instead of hovering over me. Look at how beautiful it is out there! You’re wasting time in here.”
“I don’t think I’m wasting time.” Cressida leaned against the doorframe, watching Etta kneel to clean the little table between the couches.
“I do. And I think you need to start taking more time for yourself, since I’m fine on my own. So, you should get out of here and go do something else.”
Cressida glanced outside, the morning giving way to afternoon, birds flying to settle on the windowsill outside where she had put some seeds earlier.
“I don’t want to leave you.”
Etta stood and put her hands on her hips, glaring at Cressida. “I love you, but I think we both need a little time apart right now. I need you to stop worrying about me.”
The words stung, but maybe Etta was right.
I’m trying to let her be more independent. I’m trying to give her a life of her own.
Taking a deep breath, Cressida nodded, not quite looking at her. “I think you’re right. Maybe I do need to head out for a few hours. I think I’m going to go get some peppermint and berries.”
“Stay out as long as you like,” Etta said, a biting tone to her words still.
Sighing, Cressida went to the kitchen to grab her basket, wondering if leaving really was the right thing to do. What if something happened to Etta while she was gone? What if Etta had another fall?
I have to let her grow up sometime.
Cressida left the house as the sun sat high in the sky, dark clouds lingering on the horizon. The clouds were only a faint line promising heavy rain in a couple of hours, but she had more than enough time to go to the river first and try to relax. At least, she hoped she did.
The grass blew in the strong breeze, the wildflowers dancing, some of their leaves falling off and dancing on the wind. Cressida stood in the middle of the field for a moment, letting out a deep breath before sucking in the sweet scent of flowers.
She didn’t think she was going to have consistent time to relax, but yesterday she was baking, and today she was going to the river. Maybe this was the turning point in her life she had been waiting for, the moment when she finally got to figure out how who she used to be fit into who she was now.
It was hard to fully relax as she walked through the pastures, though. She kept stopping every few feet to glance over her shoulder, wondering if Etta was going to call her back.
When she didn’t, Cressida’s heart sank, but there was a bit of relief there as well.
She didn’t know which emotion should make her feel worse.
The river babbled as she reached its bank with a basket on her arm. She sat down for a moment, stretching her legs out in front of her and crossing them at the ankles, her hands on the ground behind her, bracing herself as she leaned back and watched the clouds cross the sky.
One looked like a rabbit, another appeared as a woman’s silhouette.
Cressida couldn’t remember the last time she had taken time to just watch the clouds drift by.
Humming to herself, she closed her eyes and basked in the feeling of the sun on her skin, the peace that flowed over her, even though there was worry about Etta in the back of her mind.
Etta was still moving a little slowly after her fall, and Cressida had to help her with her bath the night prior. It wasn’t overly unusual that Etta needed a bit of help with getting into the bath, but she had asked Cressida to sit with her last night.
That was rather odd.
Cressida opened her eyes and bit her bottom lip as she stood and collected her basket once more, crossing the little bridge to the other side of the river, through the grass growing high around her knees.
She headed down to the berry bushes, plucking some blueberries, the juice staining her fingers slightly. She popped a couple in her mouth as she plucked, enjoying the tart sweetness lingering on her tongue.
Once she had enough berries, she crossed back over to the other side of the river, following it in the direction of Ronan’s property. There were some clusters of peppermint there, and they were running low on dried peppermint to make into teas.
Cressida stayed away from the edge of the river. The current was stronger when the river widened, but it was nothing too horrible unless a storm had just crossed their paths. Then the river would swell so large it nearly threatened to flow over the banks.
She found the peppermint plants, plucking off some of the leaves and putting them into her basket. Focused, she continued plucking only what they needed before finding a birch tree and peeling away a small bit of bark.
It was only when she was about to turn back home that she heard a sharp yip coming from the river. Her eyebrows pulled together as she stood silently.
The barking came again, but this time it was louder, faster, one after another, until all that echoed in her head was the bark.
Cressida’s heart hammered in her chest. Something was wrong. There was no need for a dog to be barking like that unless there was something horribly wrong.
She listened for the bark again. It sounded like it was coming from down the river, so she hitched her skirts and ran, the barking growing louder as she reached a large swell in the river, a large rock in the center.
There, against a log protruding into the river, was a small dog the color of milk chocolate, trapped and desperately trying to hold onto the log, scrambling against the side even though it seemed it kept being dragged.
“I’m going to help,” Cressida said, putting down her basket though she knew the dog wouldn’t understand her. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to get you out of there.”
She slipped off her heavy skirt, leaving her in her thin petticoat and blouse. The last thing she or the dog needed was her heavy skirt dragging them down to the bottom of the river.
The dog looked at her, its eyes wide and tail wagging, terrified whimpers coming from it. She lunged as the dog slipped, throwing herself onto the log and crawling across the top as fast as she could.
As her hand wrapped around the dog—no, it was a puppy—the rotting log beneath her gave way. Cressida took hold of the puppy by the scruff as she fell, scrambling to get them both above the water even as the current tugged at her legs.
The current was stronger here, and all it took was one strong sweep to have her tumbling in the water, losing her grip on the puppy.
She flailed beneath the water as her back collided with a rock.
Water flooded her lungs and made it hard to breathe, her petticoat tangling around her legs as she kicked her way to the surface.
Where’s the puppy? I have to save the puppy.
Cressida looked around frantically, finally seeing the puppy several feet away, being dragged downstream. She swam after it as fast as she could, grabbing hold of the dog even as exhaustion flooded through her.
With the puppy tucked under one arm, she tried to fight against the current, tried to swim perpendicular to it to get to the side of the river, but it was hard with only one arm.
The puppy whimpered in her ear as the river kept forcing them further downstream.
“Cressida!” a voice boomed before there was a large splash of water.
She took a moment to look around, to see who called for her, and that was the moment she knew she had made a grave mistake.
She and the puppy were dragged beneath the water once more. Cressida let go of the puppy, pushing it toward the surface of the water, but her skirt snagged on a log sticking up from the bottom.
Her lungs screamed in protest as she held her breath, trying to swim down to free her petticoat. Though she tugged at the fabric as hard as she could, she couldn’t get it to let go.
And then Ronan was there.
He glanced at her as she started to panic, no longer able to hold her breath. He dove down to her petticoat, pulling a knife from a sheath on his belt and cutting the fabric free. His strong arm banded around her waist as black dots started to dance across her vision.
Within a couple of seconds, they broke the surface of the water, and Ronan pulled them to shore. Cressida coughed and sputtered, spitting up water, her entire body on fire, before she looked around.
“Where’s the puppy?” she asked, her voice breaking. “No…”
A little yip came before the small brown puppy rounded a bush and came crawling over to her, the poor thing slumping at her side, exhausted but alive. Cressida breathed a sigh of relief, petting the puppy.
She kneeled on the riverbank, trying to catch her breath, her hair dripping wet and hanging in her face, her clothing soaked through.
“Here.” Ronan grabbed something from his horse, draping it around her shoulders.
As the weight settled, she realized it was a coat that smelled like firewood and peppermint. “Thank you,” she said, glancing over at him. “How are your injuries? You shouldn’t have jumped in the water like that. You might have made your wounds worse.”
“Everything is just fine,” he said, though his voice was tight. “And you shouldn’t have gone in that water either.”
“I used to swim in the river as a girl,” she said, shivering a little as the wind turned cold. “I didn’t think the current would be that strong. And I couldn’t let the puppy drown. The poor thing is just a baby.”
“Well, I fished it out.”
She looked up, finding his gaze locked on her, worry in his eyes. “Thank you for saving us.”
“You said that already,” he said, a small smile breaking before he glanced up at the sky. The dark clouds were closer now, looming overhead and threatening to pour down at any moment. “We should get back home.”
Despite herself, she liked the way he said that the way home felt like something that belonged to both of them, and not that they each had their own home to go to.
“We’re quite far downstream.” She gave a wavering breath as she kept the coat around her, aware she didn’t have her skirt, and her clothing was soaked through. “It’s going to take some time to walk back. What were you doing out this far?”
“I wanted to make sure there was nobody out here.”
Ronan looked down at the dog before kneeling to pet him. “Ought to call him Diver.”
Cressida smiled, admiring the puppy as he looked up at her with warm brown eyes that melted her heart. “I think it’s a fitting name.”
After a moment, Ronan shuffled closer to her, both of them kneeling as he reached out and brushed some of the hair back from her face. Her entire body tingled with his touch as his fingers lingered against the side of her face for a moment longer.
She ached to lean in and close the distance between them. It had been so long since she had last sought comfort in another person, since she had last allowed another person to see her vulnerable.
Ronan’s gaze dropped to her lips, sending her heart stuttering in her chest. She felt like she couldn’t breathe as he inched a little closer to her, his thumb brushing over her skin.
And then thunder shook the world.