Page 64 of The Engineer

Jo relinquished her hold on Griff, her heart calming. She couldn’t control what happened from here, but Griff knew how she felt about him. Peace settled in her heart as she turned to face the swollen river bend, its edges torn and twisted from the raging water. Ratty muddy grass was soft under her feet.

“What now?” Her stomach kinked into rigid coils.

The current had ravaged the opposite bank, exposing soft crumbling dirt and the gnarled, bone-white roots of trees. Murky brown foam frothed the surface, hinting at the immense power churning below. Torn branches and twigs, casualties from far upstream, scraped and clashed together as they were swept violently around the corner and disappeared from view.

“Looks like the river burst its banks and took the trail with it.” Griff raised his voice over the deafening roar of the angry water. He pointed. “But I can see it on the far side.”

The other side. The violent flow of the river would batter them to pieces.

“I can’t do this.” Jo couldn’t tear her eyes away from the thundering water. Her ribs constricted, no longer pliable. Was this what it had been like for Luke, or had the water been calm at depth? Had the ocean swept into the sub in a punishing wave, or had it been a slow, deliberate rise of inky arctic water?

Her breath hitched as she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the images. She couldn’t think about it. Couldn’t go there. Releasing a shaky breath, she squared her shoulders. “There has to be a way around.”

Griff scanned the terrain, consulting the map he’d retrieved from his pack. “It’s tens of miles of rough ground either way. We don’t have that kind of time to play with.”

He kneeled at the water’s edge, gauging the rapids. “I know you can do this.”

Jo hugged herself tightly. “You have no idea.”

Perhaps he finally noted her bloodless complexion, because the sternness in his gaze eased briefly, but his voice remained hard as granite. Straightening, he gripped her arm. “We have to cross here. You can do it.”

Jo dug her nails into her palms. “I’m not a strong swimmer.” Her gaze flicked between him and the water.

“We’ll use logs—they’ll give us some buoyancy.” Griff pointed to several waterlogged trees trapped close to the bank. “One of these is large enough to support two people.”

Jo’s legs were leaden as she followed him to the bank's edge. “This is madness.”

A dog howled in the distance, its predatory cry carrying on the biting wind. Searching. Hunting. Closing in.

Griff looked skyward, and then his gaze locked on her. “Jo?”

He was waiting for her consent. She closed her eyes and gave a clipped nod. “Okay, yes.”

Griff removed his jacket. “We need to keep our clothes as dry.” His sweater and T-shirt followed. “We can store them in the dry bags as we cross.”

Jo pulled tense fingers through her knotty hair. They were in the middle of nowhere in below zero temperatures, and now he wanted her to strip off. “We need to get undressed?”

“Yes. Now.” Griff hopped on one leg as he shed his cargos.

In different circumstances she might have laughed, but now the only emotion she felt was the slow roll of nausea and impending doom. “We’ll freeze to death if we don’t get crushed by debris first.”

He was naked save for his shorts, the bruising on his shoulder gray-green in the winter light. He rammed his clothes inside the dry-bag. “We keep our time in the water to a bare minimum.” He quirked one eyebrow. “I can help with undressing if you need it?”

She didn’t miss the sensual promise in his words. He was trying to make her feel better and for that, she loved him.

Flames scorched along her cheekbones. “I can manage.” She unzipped her jacket and stripped down to her underwear with chilled fingers, before stuffing her clothes and boots into the second dry bag. Mud squelched between her toes and goosebumps erupted in battalions across the bare skin of her back. Finally, she sealed the USB inside an empty Ziplock bag. “This is madness,” she repeated through chattering teeth.

Griff, scarred skin pulled taut across his lean muscles, shouldered his backpack. He eased off the bank edge, grappling for a log, then lugged it closer, sodden leaves sloughing off into the current. They spun wildly before being swept away with frightening speed.

Jo inhaled sharply, balling her fists. I can do this. It’s just water. Raging, unpredictable water that could smash them against the rocks or pin them beneath the surface.

“Jo.” Griff extended his hand. “I’ll look after you.”

She accepted his support and slid in, icy water sucking at her ankles, knees, thighs.

Jeezuz. Her breath caught. The water was pain made liquid. Her heart raced as the muddy river sliced around her waist. It was a grimy rust color that made it impossible to see her feet or anything else that might be in the water with them. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think of eels or worse.

Griff’s hold on her solidified. “We need to move fast, get out of this water as fast as we can.” He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her into the crook of his body, catching the log with the other. “I’ve got you.” His breath was the only warmth in her world against her ear. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

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