Read Allison Lane for Free Online Page B

no easy matter.  The river sucked at her skirts and more than one root broke when she rested her weight on it.
    She considered fetching Sadie but dared not leave him alone.  Between cold and injury, he might lose consciousness.  Shivers already interfered with her own abilities as the wind sliced through her wet clothes.  Every minute made it harder to work.  And delay could prove disastrous in other ways.  The bank was rapidly eroding under this tree.  How much longer would it remain upright?
    Anchoring her foot, she leaned over the side.
    “Are you ready?”  She had to repeat the question twice before he responded.
    His head tilted, and he stared at her.  “What—”
    “You must climb up here.  I will help as much as I can, but there is no way I can lift you.”  She checked to make sure his arm was still securely hooked around the root, then untied his cravat.  “Can you raise your left arm?”
    She watched him assimilate the question, then fight to move.  Pain etched deep creases across his face, but he managed to drag the arm up until she could grasp the hand.
    “Now pull yourself up until you can get both feet anchored.”  She hoped he could do it without her assistance, for pulling on the injured arm would increase his pain.  But in the end she had to help.  He was gasping for breath by the time he stood against the bank with his shoulders at ground level.  She switched her hold to his good hand.
    “Help me!” she demanded, bracing against the tree to pull.
    His foot found a higher root and pushed upward.  The combined forces catapulted him onto the bank
    “Ouch,” he moaned as he hit the ground.
    “Just a little more,” she urged, dragging him forward until his feet had also cleared the edge.  “Good.  Now stand up.  You’ll die if you stay out here.  There is a cottage just beyond those trees.”
    “Cottage,” he muttered, but he must have understood because he lurched to his feet.  “Cottage,” he repeated, swaying dangerously.
    “Lean on me.”  She draped his good arm over her shoulders to take some of his weight.  They were nearly of a height, which made the job easier.
    But Sadie’s cottage was a hundred yards away.  More than once, she despaired of making it.  His weight sagged more heavily with every step.  Her teeth chattered so badly, she couldn’t shout.  When no one answered her knock, she thrust propriety aside and pushed her way in.
    The gentleman collapsed two steps beyond the threshold. 
    The fire had burned down to ashes.  Obviously Sadie was not home, but Elizabeth had no time to wonder where she’d gone.  They had to get warm.  She was chilled to the bone, and he could be no better.  Shifting his legs, she slammed the door, then shakily built a fire, piling on peat to heat the room as fast as possible.  Tearing off her clothes, she dried herself, then borrowed Sadie’s oldest gown.
    Her rescuer lay where she’d left him, no longer shaking.  But one touch proved he was far from warm.  Even her numb hands could feel his icy skin.
    “Let’s take a look at you,” she murmured, turning him onto his back and wiping his face with his sodden cravat.
    He was truly unconscious, though the scrape extending upward from his left ear did not appear serious.  But blood seeped through the shoulder of his jacket, staining the water collecting beneath him.
    How had he held himself together long enough to reach the cottage?
    It was a question she didn’t have time to contemplate, so she shoved it aside with all the others – his identity, his reason for being in the river, Sadie’s whereabouts… 
    The chill was dissipating, but his lips had taken on a bluish tinge she could not ignore.  Cold could kill.  As could damp.  He was afflicted with severe applications of both.  She hesitated another moment, but the facts were clear.  Unless she got him warm and dry, he would die.  And the impropriety of stripping him was no worse than helping the