She wasn't used to thinking about someone other than herself.
Perhaps another reason she shouldn't be thinking of being with Adam. But then, Pa and Ma had made it work. They'd been from different worlds, Ma accustomed to luxury and Pa barely scraping by. Breanna had been five when they'd married, and she remembered several tense moments as they'd learned to navigate their new relationship.
There'd been shared laughter too, as they'd discovered in each other the perfect complement for themselves.
Breanna had been young and self-centered as most children could be. She'd never considered what it must've been like for her pa to have to trust Penny, an outsider, as she dealt with the makeshift family he'd already built.
Trusting Adam felt more frightening than jumping into that creek-river on her own without Buster's strength to guide her.
How had Pa done it? Her older brothers? Each of them had put hard work into their marriages—she'd seen it in action—and it showed. There was a mutual security and love beyond bounds.
She'd never thought she would find the same thing.
Could she trust Adam to guard her heart?
They were mounted up and walking their horses away from the creek when an indistinct shout from behind brought her head around.
There!
She reined in, aware of Adam beside her.
There was a horse in the water, caught and struggling beneath the visible branches of a huge root ball.
"A tree must've been swept into the water!" she said.
She urged her horse back to the bank. Adam followed.
She recognized the animal immediately, what with that white blaze across its face. It was Scar-face's horse.
But where was the man?
The horse broke free of the roots and swam for the opposite shore, soon finding its footing and getting out of the water.
Breanna pushed Buster close to the water's edge, straining her eyes as she looked for Scar-face in the swirling, roaring waters.
"Where is he?" she muttered to herself.
She didn't care for the man. He might be evil. He might've tried to kill her.
But that didn't mean he deserved to drown.
"There!" Adam called out. He was behind her and a little back from the water's edge. He pointed to the back side of the root ball, where a lump of black cloth—a body?—seemed to be caught.
She reached for the lariat tied to her saddle and freed it. It was the work of a moment to work up a good loop above her head.
How long had the man been under water? Was it already too late?
She would have maybe one shot at this before the rapid current would bear the man away. No guarantee that she could even find something to rope. She wouldn't be able to hold the tree itself. It was too big, too heavy.
And then somehow the tree rotated, just slightly. But enough that the tip of one booted foot jutted out of the water.
She sent the lasso flying. Her aim was true. The loop snagged around the floating boot, and she was quick to jerk the loop tight. She'd got him!
But the current was flowing with too much force. Even Buster couldn't brace against the weight of that massive tree being sucked away by the creek-river.
She was going to have to let go of her rope.
Unless—
