Page 111 of Bucked Hard

The creek isdeep.

I flail and try to clutch at anything as I realize the bank of the river is out of reach.

Sudden panic clutches around my throat. I’ve never been a strong swimmer.

That’s a lie.

Ican’tswim. On my best day, I can float. In a pool. Laying on a nice raft with a Pina Colada in my hand.

But in the icy water of a flowing mountain stream?

No way.

I’m bobbing. Gasping for the single gulp of air I manage to take when I pop up for a second, but water joins each breath, making me gag as it stings my lungs.

The freezing water is over my head. I feel rocks and branches knocking against my body and I’m like a leaf being carried away.

I’m all for adventure, but not for the kind that can kill you. I see nothing but water. I reach out, desperate to grip anything that might halt my motion, but there’s nothing. Only water.

A single thought races through my head.

My life is just getting started.

It’s Garrett’s face I see when I close my eyes.

My head smacks against something hard, and my next thought is some things are over before they even begin.

ChapterThree

Garrett

There are only a few reasons I take off my hat besides sleep and showers.

National anthem. Been awhile.

Church. Been longer.

Sex. Can’t even remember how long.

And now, to save the girl that’s stolen my heart and fallen into the fucking river.

I’m up on Dorian’s back in a matter of seconds, and he feels my urgency. “Yaaaa.” He takes off like a rocket down the creek to where she’s being swept away.

This time of the year the river flows like a beast, and she’s got no chance of finding her way back to the bank until the current settles about a mile down the mountain.

Dorian’s hooves pound the ground as we close the space to Mary Beth. I weave around a patch of trees, giving the horse a couple of kicks of encouragement to get ahead of her.

He digs in, and when we come around, we’re just enough ahead of her floating form.

I jump down, snatch my lasso from the saddle and swing it over my head. Her hands aren’t moving, I can’t tell if she is face up, and my chest constricts. This has got to be some sort of cosmic joke.

My mind flashes on how she looked that first moment I saw her. Pink on her pale cheeks, long, chocolate hair that I needed to wrap around my fingers, sinking my face into—

STOP. Concentrate.

I spin the looped rope over my head. Settle my next breath. And toss it. My heart sinks when I hit the target, but she remains motionless.

“Grab the rope!” I scream as the possibility of what could happen hits me like a bat to the back of the head. I yell again, louder this time, “Grab the fucking rope!”

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