Chapter 24 #2
“I don’t know!” Maeve shouted back. “She wanted to see you, she’d made you something. I had to tell her you were leaving. She was really upset, she went up to her room… She’s not there. What am I going to do?”
“Okay, slow down.” Brodie tried to think straight but couldn’t handle the panic in her voice, or the million and one possible scenarios popping into his head, each one more terrifying than the next.
Emergencies were not his forte. He glanced around for Logan or one of the others, but they were all further upstream now, engrossed in the cattle rescue.
“So, she’s looking for me. Does she know where I live?
” He started to pull Dove around, thinking he’d head back to his condo.
“No, but she knows Martha’s your mom—she knows the ranch.”
“Well, I’m at the ranch,” Brodie replied, looking back in the direction of the house, just a speck in the distance. He should go back. “So if she turns up here—”
Suddenly he heard a small, high voice shout, “Brodie!”
He looked across the river to see a small figure on a red bike pedaling frantically through the forest path, as if he’d conjured her up himself. “Brodie!” she shouted again, waving through the rain, hair plastered to her head, wobbly on her bike in the mud. It was definitely Zoey.
He thought his heart might pop out of his body it was suddenly beating so fast. “Stay there!” he hollered. “Don’t move!” There was water everywhere, rising higher by the second, mud gushing down the mountain.
“Brodie, what’s going on?” Maeve’s voice was even more frantic on the other end of the line.
“She’s here.” He couldn’t take his eyes off Zoey as he galloped downstream.
So small, so unsteady. Lifting her feet off the pedals as the bike hit the mudslide.
“Stay where you are!” Before his eyes, the path she was on disappeared into a mass of slippery bubbling mud.
It was his fault she was here. “No, Zoey! Stop!” he hollered, turning to shout at the others, his older brother the closest to him. “Logan!”
On the other end of the phone Maeve was shouting for details.
He could hardly take everything in. Zoey was trying to brake but the bike was skidding, the side of the path too steep and slippery for her to turn and cycle to higher ground.
Perhaps she had an instinct to keep her shiny red bike safe because she was scrabbling after it as it got caught in the fast-flowing water.
“Leave the bike!” he shouted, urging Dove forward into the water. “Leave it!”
But Zoey didn’t leave it, instead she grabbed the handlebars and the force of the current pulled her in and under.
“Please, no.” He couldn’t see anything except her head, chin tilted up as the undertow carried her away. “Maeve, I’ll get her, I promise.” He dropped the phone and without any further thought, yanked off the slicker and he threw himself into the river.
“Brodie what are you doing?” Logan shouted, unaware of what had happened on the opposite bank. “Get out the water!”
But he wasn’t listening. “Grab a branch,” he yelled at Zoey as she flailed in the churning torrent.
Logan was shouting for Noah.
The force of the water was brutal, so different to the peaceful swim at the cabin. There was no hope against this, Brodie was dragged through it, swimming as hard as he could, but was sucked down into eddies, bashed against logs and fallen branches and carried along by the power of the stream.
He looked up and to his utter relief saw that Zoey had managed to grab onto the branch of an overhanging tree. He fought against the powerful drag of the tide to haul himself over to where she was, kicking against the brutal force trying to wrench him on down the river.
“You were going to leave without saying goodbye,” she shouted over the noise of the water, clinging on, frightened eyes wet with tears.
His departure was not Brodie’s top priority right at that moment. “Just hold on tight, Zoey.”
“Why weren’t you going to say goodbye?” She was crying now. She looked so tiny and helpless against the force of nature, one slip and she’d be gone, sucked down and away.
“I don’t know,” Brodie said, all too aware of how precarious the situation was and reaching for something other than the branch she was holding onto, because it was nothing more than a fragile twig.
“Because I’m stupid,” he said, managing to get a foothold on the bottom and stretching to grab what looked like a tree root.
“Because I don’t think enough about other people’s feelings. ”
“You only had to say goodbye,” she said, voice quivering.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry!” He was so close, he just had to stretch his arm, but as his fingers found purchase on the gnarly root, a rock churned up in the murky water smacked against his leg knocking him off-balance, the river immediately dragging him away.
“Brodie!” It was one of his brothers hollering his name.
He managed to right himself, swimming as hard as he’d ever swum against the iron-clad press of the current, grasping for anything he could reach on the bank, the water pummeling against him, in his mouth, his eyes. Zoey was crying. “Brodie, help me!”
On the other side, Noah was galloping over. He flung his lasso but was too early and missed.
All Brodie knew was that he had to save this kid. His kid.
He stretched across, was in touching distance of her striped T-shirt.
Then he heard the crack as Zoey’s branch snapped and her scream as the river swept her away.
All he could do was lunge and try and grab her before she disappeared into the swirling gray waves, and as he did he felt his hand connect with her thin little arm.
Gripping her and holding on as tight as he’d ever held on to anything, Brodie yanked her toward him as the rushing water dragged them both downstream.
“I’ve got you,” he said, his arm now locked around her waist. “Wrap your arms and legs around me and do not let go. Whatever happens, okay?”
She nodded, frightened eyes wide, and clung to him like a little monkey.
This was his daughter.
He didn’t care what happened to him, he could not let anything happen to her.
Suddenly he was underwater, sucked down by the whirlpools, bashed against more debris cascading down from the mountains.
He was up and gasping for air. He just had to keep her head above water, that was all that mattered.
Where the heck were Noah and Logan? The river swept them now deeper into the forest, between the trees, his brothers would have trouble with the horses.
He could feel the weight of Zoey, of the water, of his clothes dragging him down. Deeper. He was choking, gasping. There was a burning in his lungs.
Just keep her head above water. Nothing else matters.
Suddenly he heard his name. “Brodie! Catch!” and the slap of a lasso again against the surface.
He felt it rather than saw it, but it was gone before he could scrabble for the rope.
Brodie went under. Zoey clung tighter.
He was up again, gasping. Noah threw the rope again. This time Brodie reached up his arm and felt the rough lasso loop over his hand.
Keep her head above water.
He grabbed on, winding his arm around the rope, felt the tug and drag of his brothers’ combined strength against the vicious force of the river.
He couldn’t see, but he could hear Zoey crying.
If he could hear her crying then it meant she was breathing—and if the river didn’t kill him, if anything happened to Zoey, then Maeve surely would.
He felt the heave of his brothers on the rope.
His head was struggling to keep above the surface. Water was in his mouth.
“I am your dad,” he managed, choking on the water. “I am your dad.” He felt Zoey’s arms lock like a vice round his neck. He was calculating the time—seconds, minutes—it would take to get her out of the water and safe.
Then his world faded into nothing but the murky gray swirl of the river around him.