“We will be there in just a minute, love.”
Ballard cursed the caution needed to maneuver the small boat close to her. He had been in a state ofpanic since Clover had plunged into the river after her brother. Although Agnes and Clayton had assured him that Clover and Damien could swim like fish, it had not eased his fear for them. All he could see was their diminutive forms being swept along by the swift, murky waters of the Ohio.
Ballard steadied himself in the narrow bow as the captain inched the boat closer. “Now, laddie,” he said to Damien, extending his hand, “grab hold and I will pull ye in.”
“What if you drop me? Clover says the mud here will eat you.”
“Quicksand,” muttered the burly, gray-haired captain.
“I willnae drop ye, laddie,” Ballard assured the boy. “Just reach out and take my hand.”
“Go on, Damien,” Clover said. “Ballard can hang on to you easily. I will still have hold of you as well.”
Damien tentatively reached out toward Ballard. He grabbed the boy by the wrist, but Damien was hesitant to release his grip on the branch. Clover gave Damien a gentle push toward the boat. When Damien finally let go, Ballard quickly yanked the child into the boat. He heard an ominous crack and watched Clover sink a little deeper into the water.
“Hang on, Clover,” he yelled as the captain readjusted the position of the boat.
“I am hanging on. ‘Tis the branch that is letting go.”
“All right, lass, reach your hand out to me.”
Clover briefly debated letting go and paddling over to the boat, but knew she did not have enough strength. Her legs were numb and her shoulders ached. The instant Ballard grabbed her wrist, she released the branch. She sank under the water, but feltBallard yanking her toward the surface. A grunt of pain escaped her when she was roughly dragged into the boat. She tried to pull away as Ballard tugged her into his arms.
“You will get all wet.” She wondered if he could understand her, for her chattering teeth were distorting her words.
“I am pretty wet already, lass. Just rest easy. We will talk when ye are dry and tucked into bed.”
Since she did not feel much like talking anyway, Clover did not argue. She huddled closer to Ballard and gave Damien a weak smile. The captain had thrown his heavy woolen coat around the boy, but Damien still looked cold. She was glad to see how quickly they were closing in on the barge.
The minute the rowboat was secured to the side of the barge, Agnes was reaching for Damien. “Clover, dear, are you all right?”
“I will live,” she replied as Ballard set her on the deck.
“If ye are lucky,” muttered Ballard as he scrambled onto the deck and scooped her into his arms. He marched through their surrounding family and headed for their tiny cabin. He was acting angry, yet why should he be angry with her? It was not her fault that Damien had fallen into the river.
She voiced a complaint when he set her on the bed and started to take off her clothes, but he ignored her. Her temper rose as he rubbed her dry, muttering to himself. It only added to her annoyance that she could not understand a word he was saying. He shoved her into her nightdress and gently but forcefully tucked her into bed.
“Are you quite finished?” she snapped after he secured the blanket around her neck.
“Nay. Ye need a hot drink to take the chill from your bones.”
He gave her no chance to say yea or nay, shutting the rough plank door behind him. Clover cursed and loosened the covers he had so snugly wrapped around her. That Ballard should want to care for her after her ordeal was very nice, but his methods were highly exasperating. He was treating her like a child. His sullen attitude puzzled her. She was determined to find out what was ailing the man.
As she waited for Ballard to return and gathered her courage to confront him, she thought about what she had done and shivered. Now that she had the luxury to consider her actions, she realized she could have died alongside Damien instead of rescuing him. Her aching body told her very clearly how great a demand she had placed on her strength. Although she was no longer shivering so badly that her teeth clicked together, she still felt a chill that went clear to the bone. Although she had had no choice but to act as she had, she was glad she had not had time to examine the consequences. Self-preservation might have held her back.
Ballard returned, scowling at the sight of the loosened bedcovers. He sat beside her, a cup of hot tea in his hands. She sat up to drink it and earned another scowl from him. When he just sat there staring at her, Clover decided she had had enough.
“Is something wrong?” she demanded.
“Aside from ye trying to kill yourself—nay,” he replied as he leaped to his feet and started to paceabout their tiny room. “Ye should have gotten back onto the boat. Ye could have been swept away.”
“As Damien could have been.”
He stopped by the side of the bed and sighed. “I ken it.” He grimaced and ran his fingers through his still damp hair. “What troubles me is thatyerisked your life by staying in that cold water for so long. I wasted time getting the boat because I cannae swim.”
“A lot of people cannot swim, Ballard.”
“I ken it, but to tell the truth, I would have wagered that ye would have been one of them.”
