She closed her eyes and let out a deep sigh of relief. Suddenly, the water didn’t seem as formidable as it had before. She would be able to go on the boat to England with her family and continue the journey.
A movement near the rocks to her right caught her attention. A small plateau of flat rock jutted above the water like a shelf, and she saw something at the base of the stone.
She leaned forward, squinting to get a better view. The golden locks of a little girl shone beneath the moonlight as she climbed onto the rocks. As the child reached the plateau, she spun in circles with her arms outstretched, twirling around as if trying to grasp something in the air.
Willow grinned as she fingered the end of the long braid draped over her shoulder. The girl’s hair was the same shade as hers, standing out like a beacon against her pale skin.
The child’s squeal of delight resounded through the air.
Willow’s smile slowly faded as she scanned the area for anyone else that could have been accompanying the child. No one was in sight. She furrowed her brow, worried. Was the little girl here alone? Had she strayed from her parents?
Playing. The child was smiling and playing. Much as Willow had been before she’d slipped and fallen into the water.
Willow’s heart beat faster as she walked toward the little girl. She could at least warn her to be careful.
The child knelt on the rock, her tiny hands gripping its edges, and tipped toward the water to get a closer look.
Willow’s stomach clenched as she picked up her pace, desperate to get to the girl in time.
The little girl stretched her fingers out, leaning precariously over the edge of the rock.
Willow sprinted toward her, her feet pounding against the grassy ground, and in an instant, she leaped onto the rock. She lurched forward to grab the little girl…
Just as the child tumbled forward into the pond.
Willow’s fingers closed around air. She leaned over the edge, searching the dark water. The tiny splash that had marked the child’s descent was long gone. Willow peered in, desperately seeking the little girl. Through the murky depths, she saw the girl’s blonde curls floating, reaching up. Willow’s terror mounted as she plunged her hand into the water, trying to clasp the girl’s hair, but she couldn’t reach it.
Desperately, her gaze swept the shore, seeking something—a branch, a rope—anything to rescue the little girl.
But there was nothing.
She bit down hard on her lower lip and closed her eyes, remembering the fear on the girl’s face when she had seen her go underwater. The girl was drowning. Fear tightened Willow’s chest. She looked back at the empty bank. “Christian!” she screamed into the still air, knowing she had to do something immediately. “Chhrrissttiaannn!”
She pushed herself forward into the water.
Chapter Seven
As Christian walked into camp, Sage looked up from the parchment spread out on the ground. “How did she do?” she asked.
“Well,” Christian replied, sitting near a tree. “She actually swam for a little before she realized I wasn’t holding onto her.” He pulled on one of his boots.
“Really?” Sage asked, her eyebrows shot up with surprise as she exchanged a triumphant glance with Marcus, who merely shrugged.
“Christian!” The cry echoed throughout the forest.
Christian’s eyes darted toward the lake, and his entire body tensed. His heart beat madly as he sprinted towards the lake.
“Chhrrissttiaannn!”
When the second cry came, he ran full out, pumping his arms and legs, pushing through heavy branches that scratched his skin. His booted feet pounded against the ground, throwing up dirt in his wake. He burst onto the bank, his chest heaving, and spotted Willow as she plunged into the water from the rock. His eyes widened, and he raced toward the boulders, jumping over rocks and dodging fallen limbs.
The water rippled where Willow had entered, and Christian’s gaze remained focused on the spot as he hurried, running. He sprinted faster and faster. Fear rushed through his veins, and he only had one thought: save Willow.
Without hesitation, he leaped onto the slick rocks. Willow’s head broke the surface, water spurting from her mouth and streaming down her face. Stretching out a hand, she searched for something to grab onto, and Christian quickly extended his arm to seize hers.
She shook her head and pulled a handful of wet blonde hair upward, toward the rock, toward Christian. “Take her.”
Christian didn’t want to let go of Willow and held onto her with one hand, reaching for the hair in her grip with his other one. Only a moment later, he realized it was a little girl. His hand fisted in the wet locks and dragged the child’s head above the water.
