Someone.She fell back, a child in her arms. Clearly Wren, or whoever, had been caught in a drift, unable to pull herself out.
He tried to move, managed to work himself onto the floating perch, but water sank into his boots. Of course, he was going under.
Wrong place, wrong time.
Story of his life.
7
THE LONGER DAWSONstayed down the more Keely’s gut clenched. She’d seen him fall.
And not get up.
“Go inside—get your daddy!” Keely set Wren down on the porch. “Tell him Dawson is in trouble.”
Maybe she was being overdramatic, but it didn’t feel that way. Worse, she’d lost sight of him in the blizzard.
Caspian came bounding out of the white, barked then turned, and she kept her eyes on the blackness of him as she followed, even in the gray of the storm.
Snow filled her boots, despite being the hearty, ugly ones that River had given her. Maybe she should have accepted the oversized parka with the matted fur around the collar. Clearly warm and ugly were better than fashionable and freezing.
Keely nearly shouted, Dawson’s name welling up inside her, but it would only vanish in the blizzard, and she’d already taken a shredder to her healing vocal cords yesterday.
Instead, she followed Caspian, right out to where she thought the edge of the lake might be and there—yes—spotted Dawson.
Half in the water, half out, and he seemed to be sinking.
“Hang on!” She waved her arms. “Here! Over here!” No oneshowed through the blinding snow, but she kept waving, and Caspian shot off into the swirl of white. A moment later, a couple men emerged wearing parkas and snow pants and the orange hunting vest uniform of the community.
Griffin and Donald and another man she didn’t know.
She pointed out into the white. “Dawson’s in the lake!”
Donald stormed past her another ten feet, then dropped to his knees. “Hang on, Dawson!”
She turned back. Only Dawson’s shoulder lifted out of the water, and even from here, she could see him shaking.
Donald lay on his stomach in the snow. “C’mon, Griff!”
Griffin moved out, past him, and lay down. Donald held his ankles. The third man went past them, but even Keely could do the math.
They couldn’t reach him. Unless—
She took a breath and headed out into the snow.
“Keely, go back!” Griffin said.
She shook her head. “You can’t reach him. I’m light—I can!”
Yes, this could be stupid. And who knew what she might do to her voice if she got sick again, but frankly, she’d left that world so far behind—and all she could think was...
“You were serious. I’m impressed.”
Aw, that shouldn’t sit in her brain, but weirdly, his words had reached down and latched on.
So she fell to her knees and crawled out past the last man. Lay prone on the ice. Hands grabbed her legs, right above her boots.
She extended her arms. “Kick, Dawson! Kick to me!”
