No response. My pulse quickened as I hurried along the rocky shore, casting a wary glance over my shoulder in the direction of the noise. I moved faster, praying the cougar wouldn’t emerge from the tree line and attack.
I called Beth’s name again as I followed the river around a bend, downstream from where Courtney fell in.
“Beth.” My voice echoed through the woods.
We should never have separated. What if I lost Beth too?
I went a little farther and climbed to the top of a slippery moss-covered boulder, similar to the one Emma hurt her knee trying to climb. I made it to the top and stood, able to see around the next bend in the river. There was no sign of Beth.
I called her name again anyway. Had she already gotten back to Gigi and Emma? I climbed down, deciding to retrace my steps upstream. Hopefully, I would run into Beth. If not, I would go back to where I’d left Courtney alone. I berated myself for not going back to warn her. What kind of person does that?
Courtney’s words resounded in my head.Your mask is off, Palmer.What if she was right?
I started into a jog. My feet rolled on top of the round rocks, but I kept my pace, pushing myself forward. I had to at leasttryto help Courtney, however I could. I steeled myself for the state she’d be in—or her body would be in—when I found her. Without slowing my jog, I withdrew the knife from my pocket, wishing she’d gifted us bear spray instead.
A splash drew my attention to the river. I spotted Beth being carried downstream. She was gulping for air, her arms flailing above her head before she was pulled under.
“Beth!” I put the knife back in my pocket and waded into the frigid water, my feet slipping on the rocks at the bottom.
Straight in front of me, Beth’s head surfaced. She sucked in an audible breath before disappearing beneath the current a second time.
I rushed toward her, falling into the water, the shock of cold taking my breath away. I swam, fighting against the current and the drag of my clothes to get to Beth.
She surfaced again, downstream of me. I recognized the sheer panic on her face as she coughed, water sputtering out of her mouth.
“Hang on,” I yelled, allowing the current to carry me toward her.
Unlike Courtney, Beth had never been a good swimmer. She had no buoyancy and wore water wings to the pool until we were twelve. Beth’s head sank beneath the water as she was dragged beneath a fallen log.
“Beth.” I kicked my legs to pick up speed and wrapped my arms around the log when I reached it. A current pulled my legs forward under the fast-moving water beneath the log, and I struggled to keep hold of its trunk. “Ugh!” I strained to see over the top. When I managed to pull myself up far enough to see the river beyond it, there was no sign of Beth.
Then I felt something tug at my thigh. A hand. I reached below and grabbed Beth’s wrist, trying to pull her toward me. But she moved only an inch before my tug met hard resistance.
To my left, a mangled mess of broken branches hung from the log into the water. Beth must be caught on one beneath the surface. I reached down, closed my hand around her forearm, and pulled with all my strength.
“Ahh!” My grip slipped down Beth’s arm, bringing her no closer to the surface.
I let go of her and reached for the pocketknife in my shorts. I gripped the log with my armpit and used both hands to open the blade. I sucked in a deep breath as I let go of the log, allowing the current to pull me under.
Chapter Forty
Memorial Day Weekend, 2005
As icy river water rushed over my head, I grabbed hold of a branch protruding from the base of the log. Beth’s dark hair swirled around her face as she struggled to free herself. I placed my hand on her shoulder, needing her to hold still so I could see where she was hung up.
She stared at me, her brown eyes bulging with panic as bubbles escaped her mouth. I lifted the small blade in front of her face. She pointed to her shoulder. Then I saw it—a branch had caught the sleeve of her oversize T-shirt. I tugged at the fabric, trying to free her shirt from the branch, but it was pulled tight from the weight of Beth’s body being forced downstream by the current.
More bubbles escaped Beth’s lips as her eyes closed. I stuck my knife beneath her sleeve and thrust the blade upward, but there wasn’t enough tension on her shirt for the blade to cut through the fabric. I released the branch so I could pull her sleeve tight with my other hand, fighting to stay under the log, knowing I wouldn’t have long before the current carried me downriver, away from Beth.
I grasped her sleeve and jerked the knife upward and back. It sliced through her shirt, releasing Beth from the branch. The knife jabbed my hand between my thumb and forefinger while Beth was immediately pulled downriver. I dropped the knife as my blood clouded the water around my hand, allowing the current to carry me downstream. Mylungs burned for air as I fought to reach the surface. When I did, I gulped in a deep breath. Beth surfaced a few feet away, coughing and sputtering. Relief washed over me.She’s alive.
My arms were numb from the cold. I swam toward her with slow strokes. As soon as I could touch the bottom, I helped Beth stand on the uneven riverbed. We moved together, shivering as the frigid current swept sideways against our legs. When we reached the shore, we collapsed beside each other on the rocks.
“You’re bleeding.” She pointed to my hand.
“I’m fine.” I rolled onto my back, laying my bloody hand atop my chest. It was too numb to feel any pain from the cut. “For a second, I thought you were dead. That it was too late when I cut you loose.”
“Thank you.” Beth plopped her cold, wet arm onto mine. “You saved me.”
