Then he found her face, tilted it a bit upward, and wiped it dry.

He might have done the same thing to a child who had been crying.

After that he scrubbed his own, and they went on, his arm about her again.
It was half a mile from the edge of the forest to the bayou, and half a dozen times in that distance Kent took the girl in his arms and carried her through water that almost reached his boot tops.

The lightning no longer served them.

The rain still fell steadily, but the wind had gone with the eastward sweep of the storm.