The broken beta - healed by innocence

River deep

*Wade*

I stare at the roiling brown river and curse last night's storm. It lingers on the air, threatening to return, with gray clouds hovering low and a strong brisk wind toying with the prairie grasses. If the storm comes back, it could make the river impassable for days, which would severely limit my options.

I could wait until the water recedes and hope the storm moves on without any others taking its place. But we're already behind schedule, and we won't arrive when Chase is expecting us. I doubt Chase can afford to send the pack out on a wild-goose chase, so he's probably pacing on his bad leg, staring toward the rising sun and working himself into a slow, simmering temper.

Or I could haul Briony and the wagon across the river, hoping the good fortune I've lost somewhere along the way will catch up with me. Nothing had delayed me in reaching Fort Worth. Nothing should have delayed me in returning to the pack.

I prod Sorrel forward. The horse moves cautiously through the swirling water, but she doesn't hesitate. I trust Sorrel's instincts. If she had balked, I wouldn't have pressed her on.

The cold water laps at my calves. Crossing rivers was never my favorite part of trailing cattle or moving from one spot to the next.

We reach the middle of the river. The small waves slap at Sorrel's sides, but the river isn't as deep as I expected. I glance over my shoulder. Briony sits in the wagon, worry etched along her delicate features.

Despite the cold water, her concern warms me. She's soon to become my sister-in-law, but I find it hard to steer my feelings toward brotherly concern… they run deeper, so much deeper. I pull the reins to the right, guiding Sorrel back to the bank we came from.

"What do you think?" Briony asks as we clear the water.

"I think it's safe, but I want to take you over on the horse. Then I'll come back for the wagon." I tell her.

"Why are wooden crosses lining the bank?" she asks.

I glance toward the crude markers made from tree limbs. "Crossing a river herding cows can be dangerous. A spooked horse or cow can lead to a man going under. If he can't swim very well, the cows might stop him from coming up."

"I suppose, then, that I should be grateful we're not herding cows." She says with a sigh.

"Yep. You should be." I tell her.

She gnaws her bottom lip. "Do you swim?"

"Yep." I confirm.

Relief flickers in her eyes, quickly replaced by trust. Chase's trust has been heavy to bear, but hers feels incredibly heavier.

I position Sorrel and hold out my hand, anticipating the warmth of her fingers. She slips elegantly onto the back of the horse and wraps her arms around me.

"The water's cold," I say as Sorrel skids down the bank and splashes into the river.

Briony gasps as the water rises to our calves and tightens her hold on me. "How many more rivers do we have to cross?" she asks.

"Not many, but this is the widest and deepest. Would have been better to cross before the storm." I mumble.

Sorrel momentarily loses her footing. My heart leaps into my throat, nearly suffocating me with the thought of Briony falling from her precarious perch. But she clings to me while I calm Sorrel with my thighs and a sure hand on the reins.

Once Sorrel regains her footing, I urge her forward, breathing an unsteady sigh of relief as the water grows shallow and we struggle up the muddy, tree-lined bank.

Reaching behind me, I help Briony slide off Sorrel. Shrugging out of my duster, I drape it over her shoulders. "Why don't you see if you can find some dry wood so we can warm up before we head out?" I suggest.

Her concern is clear as she rests her hand on my thigh, and I could swear her touch grips my heart. "Please be careful," she whispers.

I try to smile, hoping it doesn't look as strained as it feels. "Got no choice. Chase would have my hide if I left you out here all alone," I reply, trying to reassure her.

She gifts me with a smile that makes her green eyes sparkle, easing the frown from her face and tightening something in my chest.

I prod Sorrel back across the river and, once on the other side, I tie a rope to the saddle horn, preparing to lead Sorrel back across once more. I leave the other end of the rope unsecured in my hand along with the reins, not wanting the horse tied to the wagon if something goes wrong.

Part of me says to wait, but the part that houses my heart pushes me to take the wagon across now and get Briony to the ranch.

Looking across the river, I see Briony standing there, not gathering wood, just watching me. It alarms and warms me simultaneously.

I allow myself a brief fantasy of her standing in my cabin's doorway, then I shake it off. She belongs with Chase, on his veranda, not with me.

With a slap to the reins and a coarse yell, I urge the mules toward the river. The wagon teeters on the muddy bank, but I whip the reins and yell louder, forcing the mules into the water.

Brushwood rushes past, and then, as the wagon jerks to a halt, I whip and yell again. The mules strain against the harness, against the water's pull, and I'm about to leap in to free the wheels when the wagon lurches forward, a c***k fills the air, and chaos erupts.

A mule brays, the team's unity shatters, and I realize something has spooked them. Panic floods my mind as the wagon tilts with the current. I release Sorrel's rope, praying she'll make it to the other side, and that Briony will be wise enough to ride her west.

A log slams into the wagon; the mules screech in terror. I'm losing control, and without thinking, I jump into the river to reach the lead mule. But the current overpowers me, the riverbed is too slick, and suddenly I'm slipping, sliding, and then I go under.