by Robin Caroll
It wasn’t really lying … he did increase the sales record.
“I see.” Her tongue clucked against the roof of her mouth as she broke eye contact to check on the dog’s harness.
Morality breathing deep into his entire being, Hunter detested being dishonest—hated deception of any kind. Still, he didn’t have much of a choice. Not if he intended to succeed at what he’d set out to do. He could only hope the end justified the means. But the thought of Katie’s disapproving look being shot his way sent shivers of apprehension over him.
Shaking off the imposing thoughts, Hunter concentrated on the sounds of the river. The roar got louder and blended with the wind, blocking out all else. Another rapid must be right around the bend.
Katie squinted from behind her sunglasses and watched the river. Hungry Mother, a class four rapid, would be next. She shifted her gaze to the members in the boat. No matter the dissension going on, they would have to pull together as a team to make it through the remaining rapids.
The boat picked up speed and volume, and the rushing water drowned out everything.
Katie centered herself in the middle of the back of the raft, spreading her legs wide, one grazing against Hunter’s.
He looked over and smashed stares with her.
Time stood still. Her heart flipped. Her attention shot to her leg, where his touched hers. Her mouth felt like someone dumped a load of sand inside.
Shadow barked, breaking the moment.
Katie returned her attention to the wild water forging around the raft, and the driving wind that forced the air from her lungs. The boat slipped down, carried by the fast current.
The raft spun, then hit an underwater boulder, kicking the boat back toward the center of the rapid. A quick burst of wind twisted the raft about.
Katie switched her paddle to the left side, making long, steady strokes. “Paddle hard!”
Water sprayed. They rubbed against the decision rock, jostling and pitching everyone. Everyone slipped around in the vessel.
Shoved out of the raging rapid, the boat slowed.
Katie hauled in a long breath. Her gaze drifted over the group. “Everybody okay?”
The men seemed to regain their composure at once.
“That was fun!”
“All clear, here.”
“Yowsa.”
“Goood Night!”
Katie laughed. Finally, some sense of teamwork. Maybe they’d survive yet. She glanced over to Hunter, who smiled and winked at her.
Her heart pounded in response, warmth crept up the back of her neck. Still smiling, she looked back to the other members of the group. “You gentlemen did great. That’s what I call teamwork. Good job.”
The men clapped each other on the back and returned to their chatter. Steve didn’t join in on the banter, but at least he didn’t snarl at Jerry anymore. Maybe he’d decide to stay for the rest of the trip. No one waited at the lodge, which bothered her. Gabe would have to watch the store, and while Christian would return after his run today, until then, Rory would have to stay and keep an eye on their guest. Katie didn’t like that scenario—it would put a definite kink in her timeline.
For now, peace and comradeship prevailed over the raft. A few more major rapids and they’d put out for the day. Katie sighed and rolled the tension from her shoulders.
Shadow shook, sending more water droplets all over Katie and Hunter. She laughed and scratched under his chin.
The boat drifted into much calmer waters, but a distinct hissing noise reached Katie’s ears and her relief crumbled.
Spiders of disbelief swarmed her mind. Nothing, but nothing, sounded like air hissing from an inflatable raft. Her heart sank. Rubbing up against decision rock must have punctured the raft. Now she truly faced a dilemma—how to get the boat out of the water amid the elements before they reached Lost Paddle, which they were quickly boring down on.
Katie sliced the water on the right side of the boat. “Everybody on the right side, paddle hard. Those on the left, don’t do anything.” She continued to stroke fast, not looking up to see if the men followed her instructions—she’d have to trust them.
If they missed slipping into Meadow River, they’d be pulled right into Lost Paddle. No way could they make it through the class five-plus rapid with a deflating boat. They had to skid into the off-shoot.
Keenly aware when Hunter moved next to her to help, Katie kept a steady pace of strokes. She squinted against the driving rain and caught sight of Meadow River up ahead. “Everybody work harder. We have to slip into that.” She nodded toward the off-shoot.
Oars slapped the water. The hissing grew louder. The right side of the raft lost more air, its rounded edge becoming mushy to her touch.
“Paddle or die!” Her voice carried over the river.
The sound of aluminum cutting through water gained pitch. The raft’s momentum increased.
Katie pulled hard. She gauged the distance to their destination—less than two hundred feet to go. Using longer, harder strokes, their efforts caused the raft to shift and move toward Meadow River.
Grunts and groans echoed in her ears. The men pulled their weight, possibly even understanding the severity of the situation. God, she hoped they did. For a nanosecond, she considered her choice of words in her thoughts. God? Where had that come from? Must have been seeing her Bible this morning. Katie gave herself a mental shake—she needed to concentrate—needed to get the boat into Meadow River. Now!
The nose of the raft turned to lead into the off-shoot, but an undercurrent jerked the boat out of the mouth of Meadow River.
Katie glanced to her left, into the mouth of the Gauley. A large hydraulic loomed, its swirling eye drawing everything toward it. Katie groaned, knowing the raft would be sucked into its swirling force if she didn’t make this sharp right turn. She tossed her paddle into the boat, unhooked and tossed off both her helmet and life jacket, then jumped over the side.
Icy water stung her unprotected lower legs. Ignoring the numbing sensations, Katie pressed her feet against the bottom of the river and propelled herself upward.
Shadow whined from inside the boat, moving himself to be on the side of the raft closest to where she’d jumped overboard.
Small, jagged rocks on the river’s bed jabbed into the soles of her water shoes. She threw her right arm over the quickly deflating rim of the raft and pushed with every ounce of strength she could muster. Wind whipped around her, pushing her off balance.
Deep undertows of water whished around her legs. Her footing faltered. She slipped and clung to the edge of the raft. Over her shoulder, she estimated the distance between the boat and the hydraulic—maybe twenty feet. Katie surged forward, all too aware of the death cave lurking under the water’s surface.
Shadow whined.
Katie fought to regain her placement on the rocky bottom. Using her leg muscles, she wedged her feet against the bottom and pushed the raft again. It inched forward, toward the off-shoot.
A loud splash exploded next to her.
Hunter surface beside her. “Watch out for the death cave and hydraulic!” she yelled.
He nodded. His muscular arms grabbed the raft and pushed.
The raft shot forward.
Katie dug her toes in for traction, still clinging to the boat, propelling it with each push of her legs. The wind thrust up a notch, now feeling like gale force.
Hunter shoved the raft farther into Meadow River. The middle of the boat now cleared the Gauley.
Letting out a long breath, Katie smiled at Hunter. “Thanks. I think we’ve got it now.” She flailed her right arm about until she caught hold of the chicken strap. She held tight and wedged her toe under the bottom of the raft, and hauled herself over the edge and into the boat. Shadow licked her cheek. Katie petted his head. Panting, she offered her hand to Hunter.
His eyes trained on her hand, then back to her gaze. A broad smile spread across his face. “I don’t think you can pull me in.” His words were
smooth and unwinded. “I’ll drift out here till we get to the bank.”
She flashed a quick grin, then faced the men in the boat.
Steve’s face was white against his red life jacket, his eyes wide.
Katie laid a hand on Steve’s shoulder, but spoke to the whole group. “The boat’s been punctured. We’re going to bank up here until Rory catches up, and I can plug the hole.” She lifted her paddle and made the few final strokes toward the bank, ignoring the screams from the muscles in her arm.
Once the tip of the raft touched dry land, the men leapt from the boat. Tugging it behind them, they then collapsed on the bank. Katie unhooked Shadow’s safety harness, letting the dog run free, and yanked her feet from the water shoes.
She unzipped her waterproof fanny pack, pulled out a peppermint and popped it into her mouth. She shoved the empty wrapper back in and zipped the pack closed. “We’ll be here for a while. Anybody up for a snack?”
“There’s food?” Paul asked and nodded toward the deflating raft. “Where?”
Katie chuckled, then leaned over to the four large pockets on the inside back flap of the raft. She pulled out two small bag coolers from the two pockets on the right, set them on the ground, then pulled out two plastic bags from the remaining two pockets on the left. “Gatorade and granola bars, anyone?”
The group converged on her like water over the dam. She handed out the bars and bottles, feeling Hunter’s stare on her back, nearly scorching her. Once she’d distributed the snacks, she straightened and unzipped the top of her wetsuit. The burst of air against her wet skin sent goosebumps popping up over her flesh. She turned to hand the last bottle to Hunter, and ran smack into a wall of muscle.
Hunter stood before her, the top of his wetsuit also unzipped. Drops of water beaded against his chest, sitting atop the curls of hair spread over his muscular torso.
Katie’s mouth went dry, despite the mint she sucked on. Her gaze lifted to his face. His eyes were dark, clouded over, and heavy looking.
His breathing came in short gasps. He bent his head, almost leaning into her.
Shadow barked and jumped on Katie’s thighs.
Shivering, she stepped back from Hunter, then handed him the Gatorade. “Here.”
“Thanks.” His voice came out husky, rough. He gripped the sweating bottle and took a long swig.
Katie turned, strode back to the now deflated raft. She pulled out a dog treat, tossed it to Shadow, then tugged a smaller plastic bag from another pocket. She popped open the seal and withdrew the clear plastic squares and tube of sealing glue. She set them on the ground before lifting the edge of the boat.
Hunter materialized at her side, helping her hold up the heavy deflated raft. “So, what’s a death cave anyway?”
“It’s a cave under the water’s surface—made from the rapids running across the boulders underneath and eroding them.” She shrugged. “If you get sucked into one of those, death is imminent—no chance of surviving. They’d have to shut off the dam and drag the Gauley with meat hooks to find your body.”
He shuddered and hefted the edges of the deflated raft higher.
She smiled her thanks, then ran her hand over the bottom of the raft. A small hole would be hard to find, but find it she must. Scooting along, she continued to feel for the burst of air. Still not locating anything, she moved her hand toward the center of the boat. Her fingers grazed a rough edge. She sucked in her breath as she felt the shape of the rip.
“Help me raise this part.”
Standing inside the middle of the raft, Hunter grasped the edge she nodded toward, and hoisted.
She peered at the underside. She ran her fingers the length of the tear. No puncture here—this cut measured at least three inches long. Nothing her patch kit could repair. How had it happened? Decision rock didn’t have jagged edges. Not that could do this kind of damage.
Leaning forward, Katie studied the gaping rip. Her heart locked up. The tear was almost in a perfectly straight line, no serrated edges—nothing uneven.
“What is it?” Hunter’s voice washed over her, drowning out the growls of Mother Nature.
She studied him. Worry and concern lay deep in his expression. Katie glanced over her shoulder at the men munching on the bank, then at the rocky ground. She had to trust someone. While she didn’t have the whole story about Hunter and his so-called profession, she could believe him. She nodded toward the tear. “This wasn’t an accident. No rock could have made this clean of a cut.” She rocked back on her heels. “The raft’s been sliced.”
Hunter tore his gaze from Katie and looked at the raft where she’d indicated. Yanking the material to cover his legs, he then ran a finger over a good three-to-four inch cut. Katie had called it—this was deliberate.
“What do you think?” she whispered, glancing over her shoulder toward the men.
He chewed the inside of his cheek. Should he tell her? No, that would only frighten her.
Her expression shrouded with an emotion he couldn’t determine. “Well?”
“You’re right—this is a cut made with a knife or something, not a rock.”
She let out a long breath, then stood. Wrapping her arms across her chest, she hugged herself. “I know. Guess I didn’t want to be right.” Shadow must’ve sensed her emotions, because he appeared at her side, leaning against her leg. She ran an absentminded hand over his head,
“What do you want to do?” He couldn’t resist laying a hand on her shoulder.
“I don’t know. I’ve never had someone cut up one of my rafts before.” She pressed her lips together until they turned white. “We’ll have to wait for Rory to circle back around. When we don’t make the next set of rapids, he’ll come looking for us. He can dump all our stuff here, head back to the lodge, and bring us a new raft.”
“Sounds like a plan.” What could be running through her mind? She didn’t appear frightened. She looked more annoyed than scared. “What else?”
“I want to know who cut my boat. Rafts are expensive and this one is new.” Katie’s gaze rested on the mound of the deflated raft. “Well, it was.”
He let out a sigh. How much to bring to her attention? Should he risk filling her in?
Still standing alongside the raft, she moved toward the back end. Her dog pranced behind her. Using her feet as a measuring tool, Katie paced off the length until she stood parallel to the cut, then squatted. “Right here is about the second seat back.” She ran a hand over her wet hair. “Where Jerry sat.”
Chapter 7
Indecision and worry complicated her life once again. Katie appreciated neither. Would they forever haunt her stability? Katie kneaded her stiff neck muscles while rolling her head in a circle.
Shadow pawed at the ground, looked back over toward the wooded area, then back at Katie, his body wiggling.
“Go ahead. I’ll whistle when I need you,” Katie told the dog.
Barking, Shadow raced off. Katie smiled—she’d always said her dog could understand English.
Popping another peppermint into her mouth, she shielded her eyes against the rain that now had the momentum of a shower. She stared out over the Gauley. Surely Rory would be along soon. In the meantime, she could only assume someone had set out to sabotage the trip.
A cold hand on her shoulder caused her to jump and spin around.
Hunter held up his hands in mock surrender. “Sorry. Just wondered what you wanted to do.”
“I don’t know right now.” Wiping her face, she shook her head. “Someone cut the raft. I intend to find out who, and why.” She took a step toward the men taking shelter under a tree.
Tugging on her forearm, Hunter shook his head. “Sure you want to tip your hand right now?”
“What do you mean?” She stopped and stared at him.
He took a step closer, inching into her private space. Heat rose to her face. Leaning toward her, he lowered his voice. “If someone did cut the raft on purpose, should you alert him that you’re on to him
? Do you think he’ll stand up and take credit? Couldn’t you let everyone assume you think it was an accident?”
Katie’s breathing hitched. She pressed her fingers to her lips. “But I have to get some answers.” Her voice cracked.
“I understand that. I want answers, too.” He nodded. “But maybe if you play a little clueless, he’ll think he’s gotten away with cutting the raft. And he’ll make a mistake.”
She couldn’t think in such close proximity to Hunter. His nearness did strange things to her, caused reactions Katie wasn’t ready to deal with. She took a step back. “And if he makes a mistake? What could be worse than cutting my raft?”
His mouth pinched shut. The stare he tossed back in her face made her blood run cold.
A sudden bout of queasiness made her waver. His hand snaked out to hold her up.
“You mean … you think ….” Was he really saying what she thought he was saying? No, couldn’t be.
“Yes, Katie, whoever did this could have intentions to do much worse down the line.”
Bile threatened to scorch the back of her throat. She swallowed, but the acidic taste crept up her tongue.
Hunter pressed a bottle of Gatorade into her trembling hands.
Katie forced the liquid past her lips. The cold drowned out the burning sensation. She sucked in a quick peppermint-laced breath, then took another drink. Her nausea subsided.
“Understand where I’m coming from?” His voice was soft, even more than the whispering.
Letting out a long breath, she nodded.
“So, let’s form a game plan.”
Katie stared at him. How could he be so calm? Shouldn’t he be more concerned? Maybe Hunter cut the raft. She faltered in her position and glanced to the men sitting a good couple of hundred yards from them.
He kept his grip on her shoulders. He brushed back a lock of hair the wind had caressed out of her braid.
His touch sent fireballs bouncing around her stomach. The gesture portrayed an intimacy she hadn’t expected, but one she reveled in anyway.