The blistering cold of the rushing water tore past Ambrose as he held desperately onto the jagged outcropping of rocks with one arm. The other arm, trembling but holding strong, held the weight of the small girl he had thrown himself into the river to save.
Splintered wood from the bridge upriver slid past them at a deadly speed and Ambrose kept the two of them tucked behind the rocks, out of their path. His map pack was long gone somewhere down the white water and he choked on the water that sprayed up into his mouth.
When he had heard the thundering crack of the flood waters crashing down the side of the mountain, Ambrose had not hesitated to rush to help. The family that had passed him on the trail not long before, the parents and their two children, would have reached the bridge by the time the water hit. His calculations had been correct and when he reached the edge of the roaring river, much wider now that he had drawn it on his maps earlier in the day, he saw the woman already on the other side. The father was just reaching it, holding their son.
Ambrose had jumped from his horse, mindless of his clothes and pack, and dove into the water when he had spotted the flash of a red dress still in the frigid water.
Now, holding the girl for dear life and hoping with an edge of hysteria that he could hang on long enough for the flood waters to calm, Ambrose wondered at his own bravado.
Above the howl Ambrose could swear he heard a voice, yelling at him. He struggled to raise his head.
At the end of a long, thick rope, halfway between the bank and where they were stuck, stood a young man. Even with the short distance separating them, Ambrose could clearly see the desperation flaring in the icy blue eyes when they met his own.
The stranger fought against the current to close the distance, his hand outstretched. He positioned himself slightly downriver, his feet firmly planted in a rough patch of rocks along the river bed. "Let go of the rock and take my hand," the man bellowed to be heard.
Ambrose knew he didn't have the strength to hold them both if he let go. He only had once choice, the best chance for himself and the girl. Shifting his grip, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I'm going to have to let go of you. You must trust that man, he won't let you get by him. Can you do that, sweetie?"
The girl clung to him and gave a ragged sob, but nodded nonetheless.
"Good girl," Ambrose praised her bravery. "Reach your arms out when I let go so he can catch you."
Splintered wood from the bridge upriver slid past them at a deadly speed and Ambrose kept the two of them tucked behind the rocks, out of their path. His map pack was long gone somewhere down the white water and he choked on the water that sprayed up into his mouth.
When he had heard the thundering crack of the flood waters crashing down the side of the mountain, Ambrose had not hesitated to rush to help. The family that had passed him on the trail not long before, the parents and their two children, would have reached the bridge by the time the water hit. His calculations had been correct and when he reached the edge of the roaring river, much wider now that he had drawn it on his maps earlier in the day, he saw the woman already on the other side. The father was just reaching it, holding their son.
Ambrose had jumped from his horse, mindless of his clothes and pack, and dove into the water when he had spotted the flash of a red dress still in the frigid water.
Now, holding the girl for dear life and hoping with an edge of hysteria that he could hang on long enough for the flood waters to calm, Ambrose wondered at his own bravado.
Above the howl Ambrose could swear he heard a voice, yelling at him. He struggled to raise his head.
At the end of a long, thick rope, halfway between the bank and where they were stuck, stood a young man. Even with the short distance separating them, Ambrose could clearly see the desperation flaring in the icy blue eyes when they met his own.
The stranger fought against the current to close the distance, his hand outstretched. He positioned himself slightly downriver, his feet firmly planted in a rough patch of rocks along the river bed. "Let go of the rock and take my hand," the man bellowed to be heard.
Ambrose knew he didn't have the strength to hold them both if he let go. He only had once choice, the best chance for himself and the girl. Shifting his grip, he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "I'm going to have to let go of you. You must trust that man, he won't let you get by him. Can you do that, sweetie?"
The girl clung to him and gave a ragged sob, but nodded nonetheless.
"Good girl," Ambrose praised her bravery. "Reach your arms out when I let go so he can catch you."
With that, he forced himself to release the girl.
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