Someone had finally suggested to her that she ought to search down by the water (a good guess, and possibly a way to make her stop pestering them too), so down to the river Jill went. Her anger had not abated, rather the opposite, now she felt annoyed too, that he didn't have the grace to be around when she wanted to yell at him, and possibly throw something at his head. A shoe would do.
Marching down to the water, horse and camp left behind, she did indeed spot a figure a few paces out in the water. There was a bucket on the shore, and for a moment Jill pondered kicking it to vent her feelings, but peering into it she realised that it was Conlan's blood-stained clothing, and then that it was his shirt that she was currently wearing herself. If she had been a better sort of person, this was the time when she would have changed her mind and tiptoed away. Jill however was not such a person, she was a redhead.
Putting her hands on her hips, she glared at the man out in the stream. "Are you out of your mind?" she hollered at him, more because of the opportunity to voice her feelings rather than any need to shout. "What on earth were you doing back there?"