One of the dogs barked from up ahead, and Stephen broke his gaze, walking along the river again.
“I imagined that,” Dorothy whispered to herself. “I must have.” She hastened to catch up with him.
They followed a bend in the river, where one of the dogs had his snout firmly down a hole between the tree branches. His tail, still stuck up in the air, was wagging madly as, behind him, the other beagle barked, encouraging him on.
“They have found a fox,” Dorothy declared and then lifted her gun. She couldn’t get the right angle for the shot, though. If the dog dragged the fox out now, the stretch of land between the tree root and the river would be too narrow.
She moved, going very near the edge of the river.
“The water’s deep,” Stephen warned.
“I’m perfectly safe.”
She moved to stand on a rock by the edge of the river. It wobbled for a second under her weight, and she heard Stephen inhale sharply, but he said nothing.
Turning the gun toward the hole, she waited for the dog to drag the fox out. He was trying hard now, with the other dog running around in a mad circle of excitement. Dorothy didn’t pay attention to that, though, for she was too focused on being ready to make the shot.
“Dorothy,” Stephen began. “You should come away—”
“Shh.” She urged.
So nearly there now.
Another few seconds, and she would have her opportunity.
The dog with his snout in the hole began to move backward, pulling sharply at the fox. A splash followed, and suddenly, Dorothy felt the rock move beneath her.
“What—oh!”
“Dorothy!” Stephen cried.
Dorothy only had a chance to register that the second dog had tried to join her on the rock and had misjudged the leap, falling into the water instead. He’d dislodged the rock from its position in the water, and Dorothy was tipped forward.
“No!” she cried as a hand suddenly latched itself around her arm. She was flung forward.
Her feet splashed in the water, but a louder splash followed as she hit the ground of the riverbank, falling on her elbows and knees. The gun rolled out of her hand, tumbling across the earth as one of the dogs started barking madly.
“Stephen?” Dorothy scrambled around, moving to her knees.
Where is he?
He was nowhere. In fact, there was no soul on the riverbank at all.
“The splash. Stephen!” she bellowed and scurried toward the edge of the riverbank, peering into the water.
Slowly, Stephen rose out of the water.
In his effort to get her away from the water, he had evidently put himself in greater danger and ended up being the one to fall in.
He stood, with the water reaching his waist, his suit sodden, his dark brown hair dripping, water running in rivulets down his face. He spat out the water, glaring at her in such a way that she didn’t think he had ever hated her more.
“Why do you never listen?” he asked, spitting out more water as a thin line of blood trickled down the side of his temple, and he swayed forward.
“Stephen!” Dorothy leaped forward and somehow caught him.
CHAPTERNINE
The knock at his door made Stephen jerk his head around, but then he regretted it at once, wincing at the pain in his temple.
