Page 74 of Caroline’s Compass

Caroline altered the angle by ten feet. “There?”

“Sound.”

No protest. No correction offered, merely because he could. He trusted her calculation and began fastening his map case inside his coat.

Coleman crossed first. His horse stumbled once, recovered, and climbed the far bank shaking. They secured the rope around the cottonwood. Hall carried the second line into place while Rebecca braced the near anchor with a turn around a tree.

Thomas tried to rise and nearly fell.

“Stay down,” Caroline ordered.

“The dignity of this rescue has already suffered.”

“It will survive complete ruin.”

Coleman reached him, bound the injured ankle, and helped him into the rope loop. Thomas kept the map case strapped close. At Caroline’s signal, the three on the near bank pulled while Coleman guided from behind.

The water struck Thomas at the knees, then the hips. His injured foot dragged once, and his face went white. Caroline locked the rope around her waist and leaned back with Rebecca. Inch by inch, they brought him across.

When his hands reached the bank, Caroline dropped to her knees and caught his coat. Hall and Rebecca hauled him clear.

Thomas lay in the wet grass, breathing hard. Caroline wanted to hold him. She wanted to scold him. She settled for pressing both palms to his face long enough to feel warmth.

“You found me,” he said.

“You left marks.”

“I hoped you would read them.”

“I hope you understand how poor a courtship practice this is.”

His eyes closed with exhausted amusement. “I am learning slowly.”

Getting Thomas off the bank was only the beginning. Coleman examined the injured ankle and cut the boot farther so the swelling wouldn't trap it. Thomas protested the loss of perfectly serviceable leather. Rebecca told him the boot had already resigned.

Caroline gave him water in measured amounts, then bread softened in the cup. His hands shook when he tried to hold it himself. She steadied the cup without commenting. He had trusted her rescue plan without qualification; she could protect his dignity by making help ordinary.

Before they lifted the litter, Thomas insisted on opening the map case. One corner of the pages was damp, but they were legible. He showed Caroline the ridge grade, the firm approach, and the clay descent to avoid. She asked him to explain every symbol while Hall and Coleman secured the poles.

“You should rest,” Hall said.

“If I lose consciousness, she has the route,” Thomas answered.

Caroline met his eyes. “You will remain conscious because I have not finished being angry.”

“A powerful medicine.”

The humor lasted only a moment, but it eased everyone enough to work. They tested the litter with Coleman's weight first, adjusted the cross ropes, and wrapped Thomas against the wet. Caroline took possession of the map case. The compass and his survey now traveled together in her hands.

Thomas asked how Caroline had found the northern mark. She described the cottonwood cuts, the survey stakes, and the decision to reject the creek path. He listened without interrupting until she admitted that Hall had favored the shorter way.

“You trusted my notes,” he said.

“I trusted what the water did to your measurements.”

“A romantic distinction.”

“You are injured. Do not become ambitious.”