A shudder wracked her body.
He had her, but he was damned if he knew what to do with her. With his foot, he felt along her leg until he reached the wood that trapped her. “I’m going to try to kick a larger hole.”
She nodded.
John thanked the larger heel on his boots and struck down with all his might. The water pushed against him, lessened his power, yet Netta still cried out.
“What?”
She closed her eyes. “Just a splinter. No matter. Keep going.”
Bile rose up John’s throat. With how fierce his Netta was, that ‘splinter’ could be large enough to saw her leg in two. “New plan. How long can you hold your breath?”
Her eye swiveled in his direction. “That’s not something I’ve ever tested.”
“You’re going to test it now.” He slowed his breathing, thinking through each of his next steps. “On three, I’m going to let you go and try to pull the wood away with my hands. I’ll come up after ten seconds. You can hold your breath for ten seconds. Everyone can.”
“All right.” Her teeth chattered. “One…”
“Two…” John said.
“Three.” They both sucked in air and John disappeared beneath the surface. He counted the seconds in his head as he grabbed the wood around her ankle. The edges sliced into his hands but he barely felt it. He pulled with all his might, trying to tug her ankle free. Out of time, he popped back to the surface, finding the back of her head and pulling her up.
She gasped. “Are you certain…that was only…ten seconds?”
“Yes.” Ten wasted seconds of fumbling around and accomplishing nothing. He needed more time.
“At least the horses are free,” she said.
“Bugger the horses.” His hand trembled, and he clenched it to his stomach. “We’re going to go again. On three.”
“John.” Her voice wavered. “I’m…I’m frightened.”
Her words flayed his heart. His brave, sweet Netta was never scared. When he found out who had done this to them, he would tear him apart, limb from limb. As soon as he got Netta free and safe.
“Don’t be. I’ll get you out.” He pressed his forehead against her temple. “On three.”
She gripped his wrist. “I don’t want you to die, too. Perhaps—"
“No.” He cleared the gravel from his voice. “No need to panic, darling.” It was a perfect time to panic. “Take a deep breath.”
He watched her chest fill, counted to three, and dove down. He ignored the cuts to his hands, the wicked burn of a torn fingernail and pulled harder. And still, at the end of ten seconds, her foot remained trapped.
She kept her eyes closed, her breathing labored. “Don’t let me go again. Just kick the damn thing.”
He panted. “But it hurts you.”
“I don’t think my pain is of paramount importance any longer.” The carriage shifted, and she whimpered. “I don’t want to die.”
“You’re not going to die,” he said fiercely. He couldn’t imagine a world without her in it. Wouldn’t want to live in it. And he always got what he wanted. “You’ll be fine. Tomorrow we will laugh over this, you’ll see.”
She huffed through the chattering of her teeth. “I don’t think I believe you.”
He widened his eyes. “Would I lie?”
“Yes, with no compunction.”
Damn it, she knew him too well.
