Alden lifted one of his arms and dipped it into the water. “If you paddle like this, you won’t need the ground.”
Isaac waded a few inches deeper, testing the water. Then he stepped into its depths. He struggled at first, grappling for air. Alden saw the panic in his eyes, but still he waited, a few feet away, for the boy to catch his stride.
In seconds, Isaac’s head was firmly above the water, the fear in his eyes fading away as he swam in circles. Then he paddled toward one of the large rocks until his feet found stability again. “I did it!” he exclaimed.
Alden returned his smile. “Yes, you did.”
“Persila would be proud of me.”
“Definitely. Another bath, and you learned how to swim.” Alden stood in the water near him, carefully choosing his next words. “Guess who I saw in Sacramento City before we left?”
Isaac’s eyes grew wide. “Persila?”
He nodded.
Isaac splashed the water. “I want to see her!”
“I know you do, and she wanted to see you too, but she was on her way out of town.”
“With the Webbs?”
“No. She was going north.”
“By herself?”
“With Stephan.” Alden smiled. “She had her freedom paper in her hands.”
“She’ll be safe forever, then.”
“Yes, she will. I told her that you were safe too and that you’d found work in the city.”
Isaac dragged one hand through the water, the wave slapping against a rock. “We can’t work at Miss Lab—your wife’s hotel any longer.”
Alden smiled. “No, but we’ll find other work in Columbia.”
“Do you really want to mine?”
“Perhaps for a season.”
“Maybe we’ll find a field of gold after all.”
“Or at least enough gold dust to buy our food.”
Isaac stepped toward the shore. “I want to eat right now.”
“Then let’s build a campfire.”
The men tossed a towel between themselves to dry off, then slipped on their trousers, securing them over their chests with suspenders. Before Isaac put on his shirt, he called out toward the tent. “We’re finished, Missus Payne!”
Isabelle opened the tent flap. Her cheeks were pink, and her dark-brown hair hung loosely over her shoulders as if she’d just brushed it. “I wish I could have gone swimming with you.”
Alden reached for a knot of driftwood, trying to rid his mind of the image of Isabelle swimming with him in the water.
As she stepped toward them, Isaac grabbed his shirt from the low limb of a tree. Isabelle’s eyes locked onto Isaac’s shoulder, to the raised scar that marked him a slave. Her lips rounded as she froze in place, and Alden thought for a moment that she might faint.
“Isaac,” she finally said, her voice quivering. “I was curious—”
He shook his wet head, spattering her and Alden. Then he buttoned his shirt. “Curious about what?”
