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  But the river kept getting deeper. She glanced at the bags dangling from his muscled shoulder. The bags with all their dry clothes. “Are you sure I can’t-”

  “I’ve got them,” he said, his voice hard. “Now get moving before you freeze.”

  He let go of the rope and hoisted the bags higher on his shoulder with his good hand. “You’ll have to lead,” he added. “I need to hold up the bags.”

  Too cold to argue, she plodded past him, then instantly slowed her pace. “Th-this is hard.” With no one to guide her, she had to work to find the best footing, especially since a mistake could jeopardize Cade.

  She stumbled, then quickly righted herself. It was definitely easier to rely on Cade, and not just to get through the river. She’d depended on him for so many things during their marriage. Companionship, friendship, love…Maybe she’d relied on him too much?

  Jolted by that thought, she stopped.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “N-n-nothing.”

  “Do you want to wear my hard hat?”

  “I can s-s-see.” She forced herself to continue walking. This wasn’t the time to mull over their marriage. She needed to get them out of this river before they froze.

  And God, it was cold. Shivers coursed through her body. Her teeth chattered so hard she couldn’t think. She could only imagine how miserable Cade felt with his injuries.

  She slipped and slid over a jumble of rocks, struggling to maintain her balance. The current pushed relentlessly against her, and she had to fight not to float downstream. But at least the dog had stayed with her. She tightened her grip on the makeshift leash.

  Yards later, the rocks leveled out, making it easier to walk. But just as she started to relax, the rope ran out. She stopped.

  “Forget the rope,” Cade said from behind her. “We don’t need it anymore.”

  She looked up in surprise. He was right. They’d almost crossed the river. And the water had dropped to her waist.

  “You go ahead,” she said. “I n-n-need to un-t-t-tie the dog.”

  “Forget it. We stay together.”

  “B-b-but-”

  “Just hurry up.”

  Shaking, she pulled the dog into her arms, then struggled to untie the rope. Her stiff fingers couldn’t work the wet knot.

  “Take off his collar,” Cade suggested.

  She switched her attention to the buckle, but even that proved too much for her frozen hands. “I c-c-can’t.” Her desperation rose.

  “There’s a knife on my belt,” he said. “In the sheath. Pull it out and cut the rope.”

  Shivering, she released the dog, and he treaded water beside her. Cade turned to give her access to his belt. Still shaking, she stuck her numb hand into the sheath and grasped the knife. Then she pulled it out.

  And promptly dropped it.

  Oh, God. She stared at the water in horror. It was too dark to see to the bottom. She lifted her stunned gaze to Cade.

  “I’ll get it,” he said. “Here. Hold the bags for a minute.”

  She reached for the bags, then stopped. What was she doing? Cade was hurt. He shouldn’t be getting wet. And what if he bumped his injured shoulder? She could search for the knife better than he could. Before he could stop her, she took a deep breath and plunged.

  Completely submerged now, she groped blindly along the bottom with her hands. She felt rocks and silt, but not the knife. The current must have pushed it downstream. She rose, sucked in another breath of air, and sank back down.

  This time, she swept the area a few feet away. She crawled along the rocks, running her hands over the bottom. Suddenly, the back of her hand brushed the knife. Relieved, she lunged forward and grabbed it, then stood.

  Water sluiced over her face as she triumphantly brandished her prize. Cade took it from her shaking hand.

  “Hold the rope so I can cut it,” he said, sounding angry.

  She clutched the dog’s rope, and he sawed it off. “All right, let’s go.” He stuck the knife in his sheath and grabbed her arm.

  Blinking back the water from her eyes, she started moving. But she could hardly feel her feet anymore, let alone keep pace with Cade. She stumbled, and he jerked her upright.

  “The d-d-dog-”

  “He’s coming. Now hurry up.” Cade picked up the pace and she couldn’t turn back to check. Dazed, her body convulsing with shivers, she fought to keep up.

  Seconds later, the water fell to her knees. Then suddenly, it was gone. Her teeth clacking hard now, she staggered across the dry rocks. Water squished through her shoes. The wind whipped her wet hair across her face, lashing her frozen skin.

  The dog trotted beside her, then paused to shake. Relief swept through her. He’d survived.

  She stopped, but Cade nudged her forward. “Keep moving. Over to those trees.” He bumped her again, and she stumbled up the grassy bank to a cluster of pines.

  “Stop,” he said. “Now start taking off those wet clothes.”

  “The d-d-dog…”

  “I’ll get him.” He dropped the bags to the ground, pulled out his radio and turned away.

  Too numb to move, she watched him stride toward the river. A huge swell of emotion overcame her, cramping her chest. His shoulder had to ache unbearably. And he was wet, too; he had to feel terribly cold.

  And yet, he’d carried their bags. He’d helped her to shore. And he still continued to work.

  Not for her sake, at least not anymore. No, not because of her. In spite of her.

  Because he was that kind of man.

  The lump in her throat grew thicker, and feelings she couldn’t name wadded her chest. “C-C-Cade,” she stammered. He paused and looked back. “Thank you.”

  His gaze stayed on hers for an endless moment. The night stilled, and even her heart seemed to cease beating. Then he nodded and turned away.

  Chapter 5

  The cool wind tunneled through the narrow valley as Cade tramped back toward the stand of pines, the wet dog at his heels. He’d radioed dispatch to give them his position and get an update on the fire. Unfortunately, their news hadn’t reassured him. The wind had increased and could switch directions at any time.

  The wind gusted just then, creaking the pines overhead, and unease spread through his gut. Crossing the river had bought them some time, but they couldn’t afford to linger. If the fire spread their way, sparks could blow across the river and torch the dry trees.

  The dog stopped and shook, then trotted ahead of him to the cluster of pines. Jordan huddled in the windbreak, shivering in her wet clothes. Her dripping hair clung to her pale cheeks, and her lips trembled with cold.

  He scowled. “Why didn’t you change out of those clothes?”

  She moved her mouth, then shook her head. Hell. She was colder than he’d thought. And no wonder. His gut still tensed at the thought of her diving into that river to get the knife.

  Still swearing, he picked up their bags and dropped them at her feet. Unless he warmed her up, she’d never outrun that fire. But to do that, he had to get her into dry clothes.

  Resigned to the delay, he dropped to one knee beside her bag. Using his good hand, he unzipped it, then pulled out a blanket and towel. Then he rummaged back through it again, this time netting a pair of socks, a T-shirt and jeans. And underwear. His hand clenched the strips of white lace, and he felt the blow to his gut.

  So, she still wore that damn sexy underwear. Satin and lace, his biggest weakness. He dragged in an unsteady breath.

  And forced his mind to focus on the problem at hand-getting her warmed up so they could escape the fire. Since she was too cold to move, he scooted over and lifted her foot to his lap. Still using one hand, he loosened the wet laces and pulled off her soaked shoe and sock. He did the same to the other.

  He rose. “Now stand up so I can help take off those clothes.”

  “I c-c-can d-d-do…”

  “No, you can’t. Now stand up.” Trying not to think of this sexually, he pu