by Angela Ruth
Ah, that’s why Tracen had called her “Honey.” It wasn’t an endearment—it was her name. So what was with the look she sent him?
“And I’m Howie Christiansen.” The big man reached over to grab her hand, as well. His shake was firmer, almost painful.
Emily nodded. Honey and Howie. Howie and Honey. They had the same last name. Were they married? Or brother and sister? She opened her mouth to ask, but Honey spoke first.
“And you are Emily Van Arsdale.”
“Oh, yes!” That was rude to assume they knew her name, even if they did. “Nice to meet you.”
“Hard right,” Tracen grunted.
Emily gripped her paddle with both hands and dug into the heavy waves. An inlet with water as smooth as glass rushed toward them. “Is that where we’re going?”
“If we can get there.” The current threatened to push them past.
Emily pulled on her oar, testing her shoulder muscles. Wasn’t she freezing cold a moment earlier, and now the moisture on her skin was from beads of sweat?
The front of the raft kissed the mouth of the inlet, but the current attempted to pull them away. Emily whipped the oar in and out of the water, trying to resist the force of nature with greater speed.
Then she felt another force press against her. This time it was Tracen’s warm, hard chest pressing into her back. She had no choice but to lean forward, straining her neck to get her head out of his way. What was the man doing?
“Grab on!” he growled in her ear, his arms reaching around her.
A tree branch scratched her arm—a tree branch Tracen was pulling. Emily mimicked his actions, grasping at leaves and stems and anything else that could be used like a rope to pull them towards the shore. The work took all her physical effort, but her mind still had time to wonder if the musky scent that surrounded her was from nature or the nature lover.
She didn’t have time to figure out the answer before the paddle-boat glided into the peacefulness of the alcove. After rafting the waves, she’d forgotten how silky a body of water could be.
The river raged by, but to Emily it seemed as if time stood still for the four of them. She held her paddle across her lap, floating aimlessly.
“Nice work, Shorty.”
Emily twisted halfway around to give Tracen an unconcerned smile. “If I’d been any taller, you wouldn’t have been able to reach over me for the tree.”
“I could have pushed you out of the way.”
Howie snorted. “Yeah, right. We know better than that, Tracen. We saw you rescue her earlier.”
Honey glanced at Emily. “Huckleberries.”
Emily echoed, “Huckleberries!” in good humor at the deliberate change of topic. She shot another knowing grin to Tracen.
Howie maneuvered them closer to an overgrown bush with easy strokes. The smell of the ripe fruit descended with a fog of memories. How long had it been since Emily had picked berries?
Honey pulled the baseball cap from her head and began filling it with the berries. “You boys are invited over for cobbler tonight.”
Emily plucked a plump berry and popped it into her mouth. The sweet juice washed over her tongue, reminding her of the even sweeter treat. “My mom used to make cobbler.”
Honey tossed a braid. “Well, you can come over for cobbler too, Emily. I just figured you’d be wiped out from filming.”
Emily shrugged at the insincere invitation. “Thanks, Honey, but I can’t eat cobbler anymore anyway.”
“Huh.”
Howie pointed overhead. “Look. Somebody put the rope swing back up.”
All faces tilted toward the canopy of leaves overhead.
“All right!” Honey placed her hat full of berries on the bottom of the paddleboat and began rowing toward a level embankment.
Emily smiled to herself as she helped pull the raft to shore. She was by far the youngest in the group, yet they were all acting like kids. Picking berries. Swinging from ropes. This is why she had to get away from L.A. more often.
Tracen followed Howie and Honey toward a tree with wooden slats nailed to the trunk like a ladder. He looked over his shoulder at Emily. “You coming?”
Emily skipped to keep up with his long stride. “Of course.” Was that a satisfied smile she saw on his lips as he began to climb?
Howie swung from the tree like Tarzan, yelling the whole way. Water splashed up, the tiny drips stinging like a snowstorm.
Honey’s dismount from the rope involved a cannonball. “How old is she?” Emily asked in disbelief.
Tracen stepped out on a thick branch above her head. Finding his balance, he gripped both hands around the rope. “I believe we’ve celebrated her fortieth birthday three years in a row now.”
“Amazing.”
“You wanna see amazing?” Tracen grinned down at her. “Watch this.”
Emily loved his desire for her attention. It was a little juvenile, like pulling on pigtails, but hey, they were playing on a swing. “I’m watching.”
Tracen pushed from the branch, sailed as far as the rope would let him, then released with a twist that propelled him all the way to the middle of the lagoon.
“Woo-hoo!” Howie and Honey hollered while wading into a shallow area.
Emily pulled herself up to the thick branch that ran parallel to the ground. The tough bark pricked at her bare feet. Hanging on with one hand, she reached out to catch the rope as it swung back in her direction. Curling her fingers around its coarseness, she watched as Tracen swam to shore.
“Not bad,” she called.
Tracen turned over on his back. “Try to beat it!”
The little butterflies that usually accompanied her when performing stunts were back in her chest. The butterflies liked a challenge.
As if one with the rope, Emily pushed away from the tree and let gravity pull her toward the water. Reaching the lowest point, Emily began to swing up higher, and as she did she pulled her legs up, as well. The momentum caused her to rotate upside down. Letting go of her cramping grip on the rope, Emily continued her flip and sailed feet-first down into the river.
The water welcomed her like a blast from a fire hose. Blowing bubbles, she swam the breaststroke underwater toward shore. The shouts from Howie sounded distant until she reached the surface.
The big man pumped a fist in the air. “What was that?”
Honey turned toward the tree to jump again. “She’s a stuntwoman, Howie. She gets paid to do stuff like that.”
Howie high-fived Emily as she trudged to land, then raced to catch up with…his wife? sister?
Tracen sat in the raft, drying his face with the shirt he’d previously removed. “I guess I asked for you to show me up in front of my employees.”
Emily wrung her hair out before joining him. “I didn’t hurt your ego too much, did I?”
“Nah.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Though I’m curious as to how you became a stuntwoman.”
Emily took a deep breath, wondering how much she should reveal. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to get to know Tracen better, but Howie and Honey could pop back into the picture anytime, so she’d keep her answers simple.
“My first stunt was for a stupid TV show about lifeguards. I had to fall out of a boat.” Emily leaned back and let the sun warm her skin. “I was so excited about that little part, even though it’s nothing compared to what I’m doing now.”
Tracen cocked his head. He had trouble reading her. If she was so ambitious, why was she hanging out with a bunch of river guides? “Yeah, you’ve really moved up in the world. Now you get to fall out of rafts instead of boats.”
Emily’s laugh made him smile inside. It was so light and carefree. “All in a day’s work.”
Tracen rubbed a hand along his prickly jaw. He needed to shave. How must he appear to her? Unkempt? Rugged? So very different from what she was probably used to. Her clear blue eyes watched him, waiting. They made him uncomfortable but a little excited at the same time. Down, boy. “What else
can you do?”
Howie flew over their heads, attempting the flip and ending in a belly flop.
“Ouch.” Emily cringed before leaning forward to answer Tracen’s question. “Oh, I’ve fallen off lots of things. A building, a train, a cliff.”
Tracen watched his rafting buddy kick toward shore. “So you’re kind of a klutz, huh?”
Emily swatted at him. He ignored the impulse to catch her hand and pull her closer. It had been awhile since he’d felt this way about a woman. He liked the feelings, but the woman was too much of a risk.
He watched Honey climb the tree, afraid that if he looked directly at Emily, she’d be able to read his attraction. Though it wasn’t as if he’d been doing a great job of hiding it. He smiled as Honey swooped through the sky like a hawk—much more graceful than her counterpart.
Emily smiled at his smile. “She’s pretty good. If you’re not careful, you’re going to lose a rafting guide to Hollywood.”
Tracen grunted. He knew all about losing someone to Hollywood. What had they been talking about before Honey caused the change in subject? Oh yeah. “What was your favorite stunt?”
“My favorite?” Emily paused, her eyes rolling toward the few clouds in the bright sky. “I love gymnastics work—back handsprings, tucks, layouts. But right before filming Wonder Woman I got to double in a wakeboarding movie. That had to be my favorite.”
She seemed so sincere. As if she’d answer any question he asked. And she’d answer thoughtfully. It made Tracen think.
Howie flopped over the side of the raft like a fish. Tracen wanted to push him back out, but he should have welcomed the diversion. He looked his buddy over. “You okay?”
Howie rubbed his bulging gut and moaned. “I’m never jumping off a rope swing again.” He angled his head toward Emily. “Did you say that you wakeboard?”
Tracen flicked his gaze toward Emily. Was there anything she couldn’t do? He turned his back on their conversation to help pull Honey into the raft.
“You’re the hero of the day, aren’t you?” Honey spoke the words in a teasing voice, but her eyes brimmed with concern. She’d warned Emily away from Tracen for a reason.
“Cool!” Howie’s exclamation caught their attention. His eyes crinkled at the corners as Tracen and Honey turned to catch up on the conversation. “Emily said she’d go with us to Redfish Lake tomorrow.”
Tracen exhaled. Emily obviously wasn’t taking Honey’s advice to heart. It was going to be all his job to avoid her. “Don’t you have a movie to make?”
Emily tilted her head, her sassy smile only for him. “Tomorrow Jack and my groom are going to be filming their fight scene.”
“Perfect!” Howie clapped his hands together. “Emily can help you with your backroll, Tracen.”
That’s exactly what Tracen wanted—a cute woman teaching him how to flip around on a wakeboard. Those moves were supposed to impress the girl, but only after he’d perfected them.
Honey smashed her lips together and dramatically lifted her brows as if to say to Tracen, “You’re on your own now.”
Chapter Seven
“Hit it!” Emily called from her position floating in the water. She pulled her abs and legs in tight to keep the tip of her wakeboard above the surface. Elbows by her sides, she gripped the nubby rope handle.
The engine revved, matching the race of her pulse. The boat zipped away. The rope pulled taut. First her wakeboard pushed through the water like a snowplow, the board wiggling beneath her bindings. Then her body began to rise, waves slapping her face as if she were back on a raft. Finally, within a matter of seconds, she skimmed across the surface of the lake, the wind breathing life into her pores.
This was why she loved wakeboarding. The speed. The power. The unlimited number of tricks to try. It was all within her control.
And here on Redfish Lake, she had memories. This is where she’d gotten up on skis for the first time. From then on her dad had called her Water Woman. It was too bad he never saw her playing the part of Wonder Woman. He would have been her biggest fan.
Another boat crossed their path, causing Howie to angle his ancient craft closer to shore. Then they were all watching her again—Howie, Honey, and Tracen. It was hard to see them in the sunlight—as if she were looking at an overexposed picture.
She’d wait to get past the other boat’s wake before she went for the backroll, but she could do a couple surface tricks in the meantime. Grasping the handle of the rope between her knees, she raised her arms overhead in a Vegas showgirl-like pose. Howie’s arm pumped the air with enthusiasm for her no-hander.
The board jerked sideways, causing her arms to fly wide for balance. Okay, she was rusty. Wrapping her fingers around the handle once again, she turned her board at a 90-degree angle to grind the wake.
“Woo-hoo!” Howie hollered.
It was gonna take more than that to get Tracen’s approval.
Shooting off toward the left side of the boat, Emily rode back toward the wake with purpose. Wind whipped hair into her face, but that was merely part of the rush. As soon as her wakeboard hit the swell, she pushed with her legs, as if bouncing on a trampoline. Popping off the water, she spun around, letting go with one hand to grab the smooth fiberglass board between her legs on the toeside edge, so she was facing away from the boat in midair. She soared with freedom, releasing her “Indy Grab,” and once again gripped the rope handle facing the opposite direction from where she started. Then she let go with the first hand to help stabilize like a bull rider would as her board crashed back down. Knees bent, she held the burning squat until she could reorient herself without fear of wiping out. Not a bad backside 180.
Emily shot a grin towards the boat. Dang, Tracen hadn’t even been watching. Howie turned the boat to head straight across the middle of the lake. This was it. She wasn’t going to have a better opportunity for a backroll.
Cutting outside the wake, she waited for the board to naturally pull her back in. She held the rope close to her body and leaned away from the boat, the force of gravity adding to her speed. Standing tall, she edged hard until the wave kicked her up into the roll. No, throwing herself out of Tracen’s raft had nothing on this rollercoaster ride. Looking over her shoulder and up, she watched the sky fly by until she was facing the water again. Spotting her landing, she came down with a splash. Delicious.
Tracen watched Emily take off. She rotated perfectly. What was he doing so differently that caused him to under rotate every time? Maybe it was their size difference. He had more length and weight to whip around, while she wasn’t much bigger than the board itself.
“Ah, yeah!” Howie yelled back to Emily. He’d been watching her every move from the driver’s mirror.
Tracen, on the other hand, was very conscientious about not staring. After her amazing backroll, he swiveled his head to take in the beauty surrounding Redfish Lake. In the distance behind the green hills, the Sawtooth Mountains pointed toward the azure sky. He drank in the splendor, letting the majesty fill his soul. How anyone could ever move away from Idaho, he didn’t know.
The rumble of Howie’s outdated engine quieted to a gurgle, causing Tracen to jerk his head toward the stern of the boat to see if Emily had bailed. Of course she hadn’t. She’d simply let go of the rope to sail smoothly to a seated position on the dock by where they’d put in. The girl had wanted to dock start as well, but there had been too many boats around at the time. If she had, though, she would have wakeboarded without ever getting in the water. Now that was impressive.
Honey’s eyes caught Tracen’s. She’d been watching him watch Emily. “You ready?” she asked, and Tracen didn’t know if she was offering him the chance to wakeboard next, or if she was referring to how he was feeling about Emily getting back in the boat with them.
Howie answered for him. “He’s ready to drive the boat. I want to board next.”
Tracen shrugged for Honey’s benefit. “I guess I’m driving.”
Howie pulled the boat ne
xt to the dock so Emily could hop in. She shook her wet curls like a dog drying off and took the towel Honey extended.
Tracen tried to keep his smile nonchalant. “Not bad.”
Howie moved toward the stern so Tracen could take the wheel. He motioned for Emily to sit in the front seat as he plopped onto the backbench by Honey, wrestling to get his life vest fastened. “What Tracen means is that you were incredible.”
Tracen narrowed his eyes at his friend. He could speak for himself.
Howie ignored the look. “I want to try that first trick you did, Emily.”
Emily shivered and rubbed at the goose bumps on her legs. Mercy, the woman even made goose bumps look cute.
“The no-hander?” she yelled over the engine, as Tracen gave it more gas to speed out to an open area of the lake. Howie needed as much room as he could get.
“Yeah, the no-hander. You think I can do it?”
Emily nodded optimistically.
Cutting the engine, Tracen watched Honey help Howie climb down the back ladder until he was bobbing in the water. She plunked the wakeboard in next to him, then raised the orange flag overhead.
Tracen didn’t know if Howie would be able to master the nohander, but he did know that his friend’s boarding would be an easy act to follow. Howie would make him look good.
Tracen turned to glance warily over at Emily as she leaned toward him. She smelled of coconut sunblock. How was it they ended up seated next to each other once again? And why could he always sense her proximity without even looking?
He had to remind himself that she was like the chicken pox he got when he was seven. The more you scratched them, the better they felt, but the longer they took to heal.
Emily motioned toward the back of the boat with her head. “Are they a couple?” she asked softly.
The question caught Tracen by surprise. He’d expected her to mention her maneuvers, seeking praise. Besides that, he’d never considered the idea of Howie and Honey becoming more than friends.