“Aye, that’s the bit. I was expecting it to be more fun …” Reluctantly, he shucked his breeks, tossing them onto the shoes and stockings. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought you and the kids. Germain and I would have had a great adventure by ourselves.”
“Yes, that’s what I was afraid of.” She looked over her shoulder, up the steep bank that the wagon had nearly fallen over when the wheel came off. It was much too close to the edge for comfort, and she’d sent the kids off to the other side of the road to collect firewood, in hopes that that would keep them off the wagon and out of trouble.
She had one eye on Roger and one ear out for cries of alarm from above; part of her mind was calculating how long it might take her to fix the wheel, if it came out of the creek intact—if it wasn’t, they’d be here overnight—and a few brain cells were idly listing what food they had, just in case. But the major part of her attention was focused on her chest.
Flutter.
Thump … thump … thump … thump
Flutter
Not now! she thought fiercely. “I do not have time for this.”
“Time for what?” Roger looked over his shoulder, one foot in the rushing water and his shirt fluttering coquettishly in the breeze, affording her brief but entertaining glimpses of his bottom.
“All of this,” she said, rolling her eyes and gesturing up at the half-collapsed wagon on the road and the voices of children, then down at the small box of tools at her feet. “Go on, you’ll freeze standing there.”
“Oh, and I won’t, submerged in the nice warm water …” He squared his shoulders and edged into the creek, feeling his way over the stony bottom, the water rising past his knees.
Flutter. Flutterflutterflutterflutter
Thump.
She sat down suddenly, put her head on her knees, and breathed, long, forceful breaths. Vagal maneuvers, try that. What was it called …？ Valsalva maneuver, that was it. She held the last breath and pushed down with her abdominal muscles, as hard as she could, and held it to the count of ten, feeling her heart slow and thump harder.
Good …
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump …
Roger had reached the wheel and was gripping the rim, half-squatting to get a good purchase. This improved the view, and she sat back, breathing gingerly. Listening.
I’m so tired of listening. Just … just quit it, will you?
The wheel lifted suddenly from its rocky bed and Roger slipped amid the stones and fell to one knee, whooping as the water surged up to his chest.
“Jesus Effing Christ on bread!”
“Oh, no!” But she was laughing, though trying not to, and hastily kicking off her own shoes and stockings, she kirtled up her skirts and waded in to help. The water was cold, but luckily the wheel was intact, and Roger was able to turn and thrust it far enough toward her that she could get a one-handed hold and keep it from getting away while he stood up and got a better grip from his side.
The wheel was a full three feet in diameter, heavy and awkward, but the iron tyre-rim had kept the wheel from shattering.
“One huge blessing!” she said, raising her voice over the sound of the water. “It’s not broken!”
He nodded, still breathless, and grabbing the rim with both hands took the wheel from her and waded ashore, dragging it up the bank. He dropped it and sat down, breathing hard. So did she.
Flutterflutterflutterflutterflutterflutter …
She gasped for breath, and floating spots flashed in the corners of her eyes.
“Jesus, Bree—are ye all right?” His hand was gripping her wrist; she turned her own hand and grabbed his tight.
Flutterflutterflutterflutter …
“I—oh … yes, I’m—I’m fine.” She forced herself to take a deep breath and pushed down. And once more, her heart stopped fluttering, though the slower beat was still ragged.
Thump. Thump-thump-bump. Thump. Pause. Thump-thump.
“Like hell ye are. Ye’re white as milk. Here, put your head between your knees.”
She resisted his push on the back of her neck, waving him off.
“No. No, it’s okay. Just—felt a little faint for a minute. Probably low blood sugar, we haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”
He took his hand away, slowly, looking at her with intense concern. And suddenly she realized that she’d have to tell him. It wasn’t going away, and she didn’t want him worrying every time it happened.
The cool wind on her face was reviving her, and she turned to him, brushing wisps of hair out of her mouth.