Hero's Return. B.J. Daniels
CHAPTER FIVE
THE OLD FOOTBRIDGE creaked and groaned under her weight as she made her way in the darkness to the center where the water would be the deepest. She could hear the roar of the creek rushing beneath her, but she tried not to think about what she was about to do.
The Montana spring air had a sharp bite to it tonight. She shivered but kept walking, the bundle in her arms cradled protectively against her chest. The creek was much higher than the last time she’d been here and running much faster. She felt another shiver, this one from fear.
She’d forgotten the distance from the bridge to the creek’s surface. The water would be icy cold, stealing her breath away, as if that was the worst of her problems. For a moment, she looked downstream. All she could see was darkness. Large old cottonwood limbs leaned out over the stream, casting even blacker shadows over the inky water.
Tucker Cahill was late. Maybe he wasn’t coming. She wished he wouldn’t, but she knew this cowboy. He’d come. They always did.
Reaching the middle of the bridge, she stopped to wait. The wind was strong here. It swept her long blond hair into her eyes, but she didn’t dare let go of the bundle in her arms to brush it aside.
Instead, she stood, buffeted by the tempest of her emotions more than the rising gale. She knew that if she wasn’t careful she could lose her balance and be pitched into the water below before it was time. There was no railing on the footbridge. One misstep and she would be over the side, falling for what would seem like forever before she struck the powerful current and was swept away.
She glanced toward the opposite end of the bridge. What if he’d changed his mind about meeting her tonight? He was already suspicious. One clear thought surfaced as she waited. She didn’t want to do this anymore. Couldn’t. It had to stop—and it would—tonight.
Sensing Tucker, she glanced toward the shoreline and saw movement. She watched as seventeen-year-old Tucker Cahill made his way along the creek bank. The big handsome cowboy moved in long, determined strides. Of course he’d come, because he didn’t want to let her down. He was already that kind of man at seventeen. She felt a mixture of shame, anger and disgust. He knew what kind of woman he was meeting tonight. Why had he let it go this far?
A part of her wanted to warn him off, to send him back, to let this one go. But there would be consequences downstream if she did. No, she had to finish this.
When he spotted her in the dim starlight, she saw that he was immediately alarmed to see her teetering so close to the edge of the bridge. He called to her, telling her not to move, as he strode, long legged, along the creek bank and then up onto the footbridge.
“Don’t come any closer,” she warned him as she hugged the bundle tighter and told him how he had ruined her life.
The emotion in her voice made him hesitate, but only for a moment. The bridge swayed as he took a few tentative steps toward her, his boots echoing on the worn wood.
She balanced on the razor’s edge of the bridge before calling out another warning, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. He thought he could save her from more than the strong current beneath her. He wasn’t the first man to think that.
The wind pushed at her back. The bridge swayed. And yet she didn’t jump. For a moment, she thought she couldn’t go through with it. She looked down at the bundle in her arms. The tiny nose and mouth, the brown of the eyes shiny in the starlight. But ultimately, she knew she had no choice. There was no turning back now. She was in too deep; they all were.
“Please, don’t move!” the cowboy pleaded and quickened his step as he kept coming.
The footbridge swayed crazily under her feet. Tears stung her eyes as she looked down at the water. She was so tired. She just wanted this to be over. No matter the cost, it would end tonight.
Tucker was gaining on her fast. If she didn’t move...
She wavered for a moment on the precipice until he was almost to her before she jumped. As her head went under in the freezing cold water, only then did she let go of the burden in her arms and was quickly swept away.