A Risk Worth Taking (35 page)

“You’re safe now, Anne.” Griff wanted to hold her in his arms, but he didn’t have time. He had to get her loose before the water rose so high they couldn’t work with the ropes.

“I’ve tried, but I can’t get loose.”

“I know. We’ll free you. Just hold still.”

“If you don’t—”

Blood pounded inside his head. “We will.”

Griff checked the ropes. Blood dripped from Anne’s wrists where she’d struggled to free herself from the ropes that bound her to the pole.

“How are we going to handle this?” Jack hollered, wading over to Griff’s side. No fewer than ten separate ropes held Anne, from her chest to her ankles. “I’m afraid the pole is too strong and big around for us to break.”

“We’re going to have to cut the ropes. It’s the only way.”

“Even with both our knives, there’s no way we can cut through this many ropes in time. They’re too thick.”

“Hold still, Anne. Don’t move.” Griff took his knife and slit her gown at the waist, then pulled on her petticoats until they drooped downward. “Do you have your gun? Is your powder dry, Jack?”

“Yes.” Jack pulled it from his jacket and held it.

“I want you to shoot as many of the ropes as you can from the back. Fire against the pole. The bullets won’t go through. I’m going to try to cut all these layers of skirt. Once all this excess material is gone, the ropes should be loose enough to fall to Anne’s feet and she can step out of them.”

“There’s not enough time, Griff,” Anne said as the water rose to her hips. “Get out before it’s too late.”

Griff ignored her and kept working while Jack stepped back and fired the first shot. The bullet sliced the lowest rope just below the water line and it fell to the water.

Six ropes held her tight above the waist, and six below. Jack fired six shots, one after another, freeing Anne from the waist up. Now she was tied only by her hands and by the six ropes that bound her from her hips to her feet. Griff worked frantically to stuff her layers of clothing beneath to give them some slack. Already, though, he had to work underwater, coming up only long enough to take a breath before going back under.

“Can you shoot the rope loose from her wrists?” Griff gasped when he came up and saw that Anne was free on top.

“If you hold her steady and keep her wrists as far apart as possible.”

Without hesitating, Griff stood in front of Anne and wrapped his arms around her. He grabbed hold of each hand and pulled her wrists apart. Griff didn’t doubt Jack could put a bullet between her hands without harming her. He was that good.

Griff pressed himself against her and looked into her eyes. What he saw made him more afraid than he’d ever been. What if he lost her? What if they couldn’t free her in time? What if she drowned, too? Just like…

“I love you, Anne,” he whispered, bringing his lips down on hers. “I love you,” he repeated as the gunshot blew through the rushing water. The rope fell in two and her arms were free.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I love you, too, Griff.”

Griff released her and dove beneath the water to push her skirts beneath the ropes.

He was frantic to get her loose. Even with Jack’s help, they couldn’t free her fast enough. The water was already up to her chest and rushing into the cave faster than before. His chest burned and his lungs screamed for air, but he forced himself to stay underwater as long as possible. Four ropes still held her.

No matter how fast he worked, he was afraid she would not be free in time. He was afraid he could not save her before the water rose above her head. Afraid there was no way he could keep from losing her.

Griff rose to the top and took a deep breath, then dove back down. The pain was unbearable. His head spun in dizzying circles. He was so tired and weak he couldn’t stay below as long as he had before. His heart pounded so hard he thought it might explode.

Jack’s knife sawed through the second rope. They had only two more ropes to cut and she would be free. He was frantic. His hands trembled while he worked. If only the water would stop rising, but it didn’t. If anything, it seemed to rush in faster.

He and Jack needed another breath and they both pushed to the surface. The water was up to Anne’s shoulders and she lifted her chin to be able to breathe.

“We’re almost done, Anne,” he cried out, but she didn’t answer him, only looked at him as if to memorize his features, as if knowing this could be the last time she might see him.

“I won’t lose you,” he promised, then dove back to the bottom.

Jack worked on the lowest rope until it snapped apart, then swam away to get the long length of rope he’d brought with him. When he came back, he tied it around Griff’s waist and swam to the large open room, where it was dry. Griff was glad. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to carry Anne that far on his own.

Griff cut at the rope and the material that bound her, thinking he would not need another breath to free her, but the knife wasn’t as sharp now and wouldn’t cut through the wet rope. He couldn’t make it. He needed another breath.

He pushed to the top to gulp a huge breath, and before he dove back down, he looked at Anne. The water covered most of her face now, with her nose lifted high so she could breathe.

He dove back down and sawed at the rope with frantic urgency. He couldn’t lose her, couldn’t live without her.
He’d die before he’d let her drown. But it was taking so bloody long to get the last rope off.

Finally, it fell loose and he pushed upward, reaching for her to pull her to safety. But he was too late.

Water covered her head.

Griff freed her, then pulled her above water, but she didn’t struggle for air. Instead, she floated facedown in the water.

“No!”

He heard the hoarse echo of his voice as fear took over every part of his body. He reached for her, turning her to keep her face above the water, but she didn’t take a breath. “Anne! Oh, God, Anne. No!”

Her face was pale, almost blue, and she lay in his arms like a limp rag doll while Jack pulled them toward dry ground.

Terror raged through him until he couldn’t breathe, until he couldn’t think. He couldn’t lose her.

“Dear God. Please don’t take her away from me,” he prayed over and over. “I love her too much.”

G
riff felt solid ground beneath his feet and tried to stand but his legs were too weak to support him. He went under with Anne in his arms. He struggled to his feet and Jack pulled on the rope to help him walk the slope upward until he was on dry ground.

“She’s not breathing, Jack! Help me!”

Jack rolled a barrel out from the corner and Griff laid her facedown over it. He pressed on her back, gently at first, then harder when it didn’t do any good.

“It’s not working,” Griff yelled, placing Anne on her side and pounding her back. Her face was blue, her lips a deathly gray, and she was so limp she nearly folded when he laid her down.

“Anne! Anne, breathe, damn it!” He shook her by the shoulders, then held her to him, rocking her back and forth. “What should I do? I can’t make her breathe!”

Jack’s face was pale, a helpless look of panic in his eyes. “I saw a man a couple years ago save his little boy when the lad fell into a river and nearly drowned.”

“What did he do?”

“He held the little boy’s nose and covered his mouth with his own and breathed for him.”

Griff didn’t hesitate. With one hand he held Anne’s nose and with the other he pushed her chin downward until her mouth gaped open. He covered her mouth with his own and breathed a deep breath in, then pulled it out, then breathed it in, and pulled it out.

“Breathe, Anne! Breathe!” he ordered, pushing his hand on her stomach as if he could make it move for him.

“Do it again!” Jack yelled, pushing on Anne’s stomach like Griff had done.

Griff pushed a deep breath into Anne, then pulled a deep breath out. On the second deep breath, water spewed from her mouth and she coughed and gagged. She spit out what seemed like half the ocean. Griff held her in his arms while she retched more water. It took forever, but finally she gasped for air, then breathed on her own.

“Oh, Anne.” He held her to him while tears ran down his face. He waited until she moved on her own, then wrapped her in one of the rough blankets Jack found covering some of the wooden chests lined against the wall. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, then tipped her face to look at him. She pressed her cheek back against his chest and leaned against him. “Are you all right?” she whispered, her voice weak and hoarse.

He laughed. How could he be anything else now that he had her back with him?

Griff held Anne in his arms while she slept. He refused to let her out of his sight. He couldn’t chance that she’d stop breathing. He couldn’t chance that he might lose her.

She slept for several hours. Finally she shifted in his arms and struggled to open her eyes.

“Are you waking?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“I’m trying, but it’s difficult.”

“I don’t doubt it. You took quite a beating.”

“Is Brentwood dead?”

Griff nodded. “We’re safe now. He can’t harm us any longer.”

“Who was that man with you? Was he the one you were trying to find?”

“Yes.” Griff lifted his gaze to where Jack sat. “Come here, Jack. I’d like to introduce you to my wife.”

Jack walked to them, then knelt down beside Anne. “Jack, this is my wife, Lady Anne. Anne, this is the man who saved your life. Jack Hawkins.”

“How do you do, Lady Anne. I’m very glad to make your acquaintance.”

“And I’m very glad to be alive to make yours.” She reached through the slit in the blanket to shake his hand. “I will forever be indebted to you.”

“I’m glad I could be of service. You gave us quite a scare.”

She smiled, but her effort was weak. “I didn’t mean to.”

She shivered and Griff pulled the blanket around her more tightly. “Are you cold?” he asked, unable to keep the concern out of his voice.

“Just a little.”

Jack stood. “I’ll tear apart more chests and put more wood on the fire. It would be a shame to save you from drowning only to have you freeze to death.”

Jack built up the fire, and before long the cave was warmer.

“Is that better?” Griff asked, holding her closer.

“Yes, much,” she answered. “Especially being in your arms.”

“I don’t ever intend to let you out of my arms again.”

“That sounds very nice,” she said, laying her head back against his chest and closing her eyes. “I’m tired, Griff.”

“You sleep now, Anne.” He picked her up in his arms and lay with her on the blankets Jack had spread out for them. “You’re safe now.”

She snuggled closer and closed her eyes.

“She’s asleep already, Jack,” Griff whispered, watching Anne slumber in his arms.

“I don’t doubt it. She’s been through hell. She’ll no doubt want to sleep until she can forget it.”

“No doubt.” Griff couldn’t keep his eyes off her, couldn’t keep his hands from brushing the hair from her face, from tracing her ears and narrow throat. He couldn’t keep the unbelievable joy from nearly bursting his heart. He loved her. He knew it without a doubt.

“Jack?”

Jack looked up from the fire. “Yes.”

“Thank you. I’ll never be able to repay you for what you did. Never.”

“You already have. You trusted me even after you knew what my brother did.”

“You weren’t responsible for your brother’s actions. You had no control over the choices he made.”

Jack Hawkins sat back on his haunches and fanned the burgeoning fire. He was a large man, as tall as Griff, with shoulders equally as wide. Griff always knew if he ever needed someone to watch his back or be his right hand, Jack was the one he wanted beside him. He knew that now more than ever.

“Do you know what it’s like,” Jack said, adding wooden slats from the crates to the fire, “to watch your brother die and know there’s nothing you can do to stop it from happening? Or to be so ashamed that you can’t admit to the world that the traitor about to die is family? Or to live with yourself afterward because somehow what he did must have been your fault?”

“You weren’t responsible for his actions. He was a grown man. Old enough to make his own choices.”