Free Sunday Kind of Love by Dorothy Garlock

Gwen realized that it was an enormous rock. The river flowed swiftly around it, the water diverted to either side. The stranger was trying to get them to the inside, closer to shore, but the current was moving so fast that they slammed hard into the stone, a grunt forced from his mouth. Somehow he managed to hold on, stopping their momentum. Gwen clung tight, the bank only fifteen feet away.
    “You’ve got to help me!” the man shouted. “I’ll push us off the rock and then you kick with your feet! Use whatever strength you have left!”
    Weakly, Gwen nodded.
    “On the count of three…”
    When it was time, Gwen did as he’d asked. From somewhere deep inside, she found the energy needed to scissor her legs and paddle with her free arm. At first she feared that they weren’t going to make it, that they would be carried farther downstream, but just as she was about to give up, her foot touched the river’s bottom and the man pulled her the rest of the way into the shallows.
    Miraculously, the river no longer held them.
    Even though Gwen had reached safety, darkness still pressed down on her. It was a fight to keep her eyes open. The stranger scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bank, laying her down in the grass. Her chest rose and fell beneath her soaked blouse, her arms limp at her sides.
    High above, the clouds had broken up, leaving the moon unblemished in the sky, shining brightly over her rescuer’s shoulder. Light encircled his head like a halo, illuminating the beads of water clinging to his hair. Shadows obscured his face. She couldn’t make out many details, only that he was looking at her with concern.
    “Gwen? Can you hear me?” he asked.
    She smiled. He knew her name, though his voice was unfamiliar. Gwen opened her mouth to say something, but that was when exhaustion took her. She slowly tumbled down like an autumn leaf falling from its tree. She blinked once, twice…
    Then everything went black.

Chapter Six
    G WEN…IT’S GWEN FOSTER…
    Hank stared down at her face, lit by the moonlight. He tried to wake her, shaking her arm and repeating her name, but she remained unconscious. He had immediately recognized her. Even though he was only a handful of years older than Gwen, he didn’t know her personally, not really.
    Hadn’t he heard that she was living in Chicago?
    What was she doing here?
    Most importantly, why had she been about to drown in the Sawyer?
    Now that his adrenaline was subsiding, Hank felt exhausted. He took deep gulps of air, his heartbeat slowing. Getting them both to shore had been demanding work; his shoulders and legs burned from the effort. He wanted nothing more than to collapse in the cool grass and rest, but he worried that Gwen could be badly hurt. He knew he had to get her to a doctor, fast.
    So how in the heck am I going to do that?
    They were on a small outcropping, clear of trees, that jutted out into the river. The woods in front of them were thick, the underbrush crowded with bushes and fallen limbs. If Hank wasn’t mistaken, they’d drifted half a mile or so downstream from the bridge. Unfortunately, no one lived around these parts. However, if he could get through the woods, there was a little-used road that would take them most of the way back to his truck.
    He looked at Gwen. She appeared peaceful, as if she was merely sleeping. A few strands of her dark hair were plastered to the side of her face, her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly parted. The sudden realization that she was prettier than he remembered filled his head. Hank pushed the thought away, chiding himself for thinking such a thing at a time like this.
    Even though it would be far faster for him to go back for the truck alone, Hank knew he couldn’t leave her behind. If Gwen were to wake while he was gone, disoriented and frightened, she could wander off, and he’d have a devil of a time finding her in the dark.
    He didn’t have a choice. He had to carry her.
    Hank lifted Gwen, one