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for a hold as something dark flashed past the corner of her eye.  Then the greater darkness of the arched shadows blurred her vision.  Barely a foot of clearance remained. 
    Stupid!   She should have grabbed for the arch itself.  Now it was too late, and she had missed the pier. 
    Her hands scraped rock and mortar, searching for a knob or crack that might slow her progress and give her a chance to escape, but she could gain no purchase.  Shadow gave way to light.  The bridge was behind her. 
    Cold, exhausted, and despairing, she ceased kicking.  Water again closed over her head.
    Fool!  You aren’t dead yet!
    She was fighting back toward the surface when something caught on her arm.  Panicked, she twisted, clawing to escape.  Swallowing water brought on a new bout of gagging and coughing.  It took a moment to realize she was again sucking air.
    “Relax!” barked a voice into her ear.
    Her eyes flew open, meeting others of rich, chocolate brown.
    “Catch your breath,” urged the gentleman.  His hand gripped her arm.  “I’ve got you safe.”
    Another spasm of coughs bent her double.  Before he could react, her habit dragged them both under.  Her feet hit a boulder, so she pushed upward.
    “Hold on,” he gasped, twisting her behind him.  “I need my arms for swimming.”
    She grabbed his slender waist and finally found her voice.  “Which way?  I’ll help kick.”
    “Left is closer.”
    But the river wouldn’t allow it.  Every time they progressed, the churning water swept them back, or they hit a rock or were dragged under.  She was ready to discard her unwieldy skirt, when the river whipped around a sharp bend, flinging them near the right bank.
    Recognition sent a burst of energy jolting through her system.  Sadie lived nearby.  Were they really more than a mile downstream?  A quarter mile further was…
    “Waterfall!” she shouted, twisting to kick toward the right.  The river would tumble over rocky cascades until it shot down a twenty-foot fall.
    He renewed his efforts.  One lunge.  Two.  His right hand grabbed an exposed tree root where the river had eroded the bank.
    Anchoring her left hand in his waistcoat, she managed to catch a second root, though without her split-leather riding gloves to provide purchase, she never would have succeeded.  Only desperation bent her icy fingers.
    “Gra—”
    His voice turned to a grunt of pain as a branch brushed past her shoulder to slam into his, right where her head had rested seconds before.
    His grip loosened, but her hand in his waistcoat kept him from being swept away.
    “Don’t swoon!” she screamed.  His weight nearly jerked her arm from its socket as the water twisted him around.  The branch must also have grazed his head, for his eyes had crossed.  Her foot found purchase on a deeper root, and she pulled him closer to the bank.
    He shook his head as if trying to realign his brains, then gritted his teeth and caught a root.  But his left arm refused to move.  He stared at it in a daze of incomprehension.
    She managed to hook her arm through the jumble of roots so she could hold him with both hands.  “Can you climb up there?” she asked, afraid she knew the answer.  The bank extended two feet above the water at this point.
    “I don’t—”  His woozy voice confirmed her fears.
    “Concentrate!”  She pulled him nearer the bank and shook him.  “Wedge your feet in somewhere.”
    One leg moved, proving he was still conscious.
    “Good,” she said when his foot found a hold.  “Now hook your right arm through here.”  It was the left that was injured.  “I will tie it down while I crawl out,” she continued.  “Don’t you dare swoon because I can’t lift you.  This cold will kill us both if we don’t find shelter.”
    She used his cravat to bind his arm in place, terror overcoming her stiff fingers enough to untie its knot – though not until she’d loosened it with her teeth.  Climbing out was