Excerpt: Adrift

If she hadn't looked so much like Molly, he might have let her drown.
He would have wanted to save her, of course. Ransom wanted to save all of them - everyone he heard screaming, every one who grabbed at his clothes, even those who brushed by him as inert, lifeless objects trailing blood in the muddy waterof the Missouri River. He wanted to save them all. But it was all he could do to fight his way up out of the cold dark, to gulp a mouthful of air before being pulled under again. It took everything he had. There was no thought for anyone, for anything, except fighting the water, the cold, the floating debris, fighting to survive. Until he saw her. She was clinging to a splintered board and as he watched the wicked current ripped it from her fingers. She was so close he could see the horror in her wide blue eyes as she was pulled under again. Blue eyes so like Molly's.
There was no conscious decision made. Those blue eyes pulled him and he found himself diving back down, down into the dark icey water , reaching, stretching his arm out and down until he touched a bit of her heavy skirts, billowing up around her head as she went down. He grabbed a fistful of the material and fought his way back to the surface, dragging her with him.
She was limp, a heavy lifeless weight. But when his head broke the surface a good sized timber came rushing by. It was a piece from the landing with a big iron tie-up ring still firmly attached. He grabbed the ring with his left hand and managed to keep her head above water with his right arm circled around her body.
The cold made both hands numb. He couldn’t feel the fingers if his right hand, but he kept them clamped to the ring until he felt the timber brush against the bank. Then, he let go and grabbed an overhanging branch and used it to pull both of them up on the muddy bank. He lay back for a moment, exhausted, with her across him, facedown on his chest. Her face was white and slack. She wasn’t moving. He had to do something – after all that, he couldn’t let her die. Maybe she swallowed water. He sat up, pulled her across his left arm and thumped her on the back with his right hand. Nothing.. He pulled her head back, untied the sodden bonnet and tossed it aside, slapped her face lightly. Breathe girl! Breathe! He slapped her again, harder, and her head jerked back as she started coughing and choking.
By the time the coughing slowed down, she was shaking like a new calf born to early in a snowstorm. Her whole body shuddered and her voice was weak and hoarse.
“What happened?”
The water was still scattered with splintered wood, furniture, clothing, boxes, barrels, and bodies. Ransom looked away, and grasping her shoulders, gently turned her around to face into the woods