Chapter 8

His rescuer was kneeling in front of him, a first aid kit in his hands. “Are you back with me? I need to examine your wounds. And then I want to get you washed down before I dress them. Flood water is pretty nasty stuff.”

Stephen nodded and reached for the tea. He drained the cup, savoring the soothing heat on his sore throat. Placing a hand on the man’s shoulder, he said, “And you waded into that nasty water, risking your life to save mine. You’re a hero, and I don’t even know your name.”

A flush crept up the man’s neck, barely visible under the deep tan. His eyes shifted downward. “Oh, you can call me Cal. And don’t put too much stock in that hero idea. I had one end of a rope around my waist and the other end hitched to a tree before I ever dipped a toe in that water.”