As gently as he could, John stripped off Caitlin’s clothing. The firelight revealed welts and bruises scattered about her slim body. He wrapped her in both blankets before jamming a few sticks into the ground near the fire. He hung her clothes over them and then stripped out of his own. It turned out to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. The pain in his chest became so severe he had to scream again. Somehow, he still managed to remove his shirt.
He coughed a deep rasping cough that burned like fire. His mouth had the flavor of old nails, and he spit blood onto the rocks.
He stared at the foamy red patch of his life.
Hell.
Blood.
He’d punctured a lung.
Dear God, what could he do for a punctured lung?
He didn’t know. Well, either it’d stop bleeding, or he’d die. Right now, he was too tired to care which. Rest, he must rest. He hung his clothes beside hers, threw a few of the larger sticks onto the fire, and crawled into the blankets with her.
They shivered together under the blankets, his arms wrapped around her for what little warmth they might add to each other. Her soft skin was clammy against his, but he didn’t mind. He was past the point of noticing or caring.
At some point, he slept.
He awoke feeling groggy. His backside had come uncovered and the night air was cold. Embers from the dying fire glowed in the dark. Caitlin was still cradled in his arms. Her shivering had stopped, and she now breathed easily.
He slid out from under the blankets and dragged a few more branches onto the coals. After rearranging the wood, he blew the fire alight. He knelt with his hands against the flames until it was too hot to bear. Then he slid back between the blankets and pulled Caitlin close. In a moment, he fell asleep.
The next thing John knew it was daylight, at least as close to it as it was likely to get that day. The rain still fell. Caitlin lay with her head on his right shoulder. Her breath was warm against his skin. Only embers remained of the fire, but he no longer felt cold. The fire had warmed the rock wall behind and above them enough to break the chill of the morning air.
For the first time, he was conscious of the curves in the body pressing against him. Yesterday, he’d been too worried about her dying to think of anything else as he’d stripped off her clothes and slid between the blankets with her.
That morning was another matter. They had already spent seven days together in the close proximity of the raft. He’d seen her swim in quiet crystal pools, shower under soft waterfalls, and heard her laugh at his feeble jokes. He’d eaten numerous meals with her and had slept just a few feet from her each night. He’d been attracted to her since the first day, had a crush on her by day three, and by day six was deeply in love.
Nevertheless, she was engaged to be married when they finished the trip if they finished the trip.
He wasn’t worried, yet. If Glen and the others didn’t spot them, Glen would use the radio to call in a rescue helicopter. It might take a day or two to find them, but they could survive that long without food. No, the only real worry was Caitlin’s condition.
As if on cue, she stirred. Her right hand slid up along his torso and stopped when it reached his thick chest hair.
Her head jerked up, and her eyes popped open.
“John?”
Her right hand moved again; lower this time until she understood that he was naked beneath the blanket. She jerked her hand away as though she’d been burned.
“Good morning,” he said with little humor.
“Where the hell are my clothes?”
John pointed with a tilt of his head.
Her head twisted around as she took in their location. Their clothes still hung next to the remains of the fire. When she turned back to face him, she was much calmer than he imagined she would be.
He had half-expected scorn or derision, but her voice was calm and perhaps even lighthearted.
“I can’t believe you. How’d you manage that?” she asked.
“It wasn’t easy. Look, we were both chilled. There was no other way to warm you up in a hurry.”
“I think I could have warmed up just fine with my panties on.”
He wrinkled his eyebrows in what he hoped was a disarming gesture. “In for a penny, in for a pound.”
“What?” she asked.
“Dickens.”
“What does it have to do–never mind.”
She shifted and those luscious curves moved against him. He diverted his thoughts to an interface control problem he’d been working on for his thesis. She moved again and his thoughts leapt back.
“I–we have to get dressed. The others could catch up with us at any time, and I won’t have my fiancé hearing that I was found naked, wrapped in a blanket with another man.”
He nodded.
She placed one hand on his chest for leverage and pushed. Fire shot through him, and he opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out.
Dear God, how his ribs hurt.
The weight left his chest as Caitlin jerked her hand back.
“What? What’s the matter?”
“My ribs,” he gasped. “I cracked a couple….”
Her face reddened. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”
For a minute, she sat quietly watching him while he struggled to breathe. “I’m sorry, John. I haven’t thanked you for saving my life. I don’t remember much after I fell off the raft, but I do remember you in the water with me. You risked your own life to save me, and I’m complaining while you lay there with broken ribs. I must sound like a fool.”
Her eyes met his. He wanted to drown in those pools to swim away and never come back; to … She blinked and looked away. Her fingers lightly touched his chest, gently feeling the lumps beneath his skin. Her touch was fire, but this time, he enjoyed it.
When she spoke again, her voice was deeper, almost sultry.
“I’d better get dressed.”
She pulled at the blankets until she found an edge and slipped it off her. In the gray light of the canyon’s morning, he watched her stand slowly. She groaned as she discovered her own body hadn’t escaped the river unscathed. She swayed for a moment before her head seemed to clear. Walking across the sand, she pulled her panties from the first stick. Keeping her back to him, she stepped into them and pulled them up.
She slipped into her T-shirt and shorts. As she zipped up her shorts, she turned to face him.
She didn’t appear to mind that he’d been watching her and she hadn’t asked him to look away.
“Are you getting up?”
“In a minute.”
Caitlin rolled her shoulders and stretched. She turned around giving John a profile shot and motioned toward the end of the side canyon and the roaring Colorado.
“Maybe I should see if there’s anyone on the river. We wouldn’t want to miss them.”
“Okay, but take one of these blankets. There’s no point in getting soaked again.”
Caitlin nodded and took the edge of the blanket he handed her. After a little wriggling on his part, she pulled it free. She wrapped it around her shoulders and wordlessly followed the stream toward the river.
He waited another minute before throwing back the blanket. As quickly as the pain in his chest let him, he stood up and dressed. Bending over was the worst part, but he managed to pull up his shorts without getting too much sand into them.
A cough racked him.
He spit more foamy blood onto the ground.
Perhaps Caitlin’s condition wasn’t his only worry after all.
Only one of his sandals had made it through the swim, but both of Caitlin’s had reached landfall. He picked them up, wrapped the other blanket about his shoulders, and took them with him as he followed her downstream.
She sat on a boulder, looking out over the tumultuous river. When he reached her, he slid soundlessly beside her and offered her the sandals.
She took them from him and slipped them on.
“Thanks. Do
you think they’ve already passed us?”
The river was empty of life as far as he could see in either direction.
“Who can say? There was time for them to get this far I guess, but I have no idea how far downstream we came. The raft would make better speed than we could, but they may have stopped to search all the eddies for us. Then again, they could have left early this morning and passed us today.”
“That’s what I guessed. I suppose we’ll just have to wait.”
“There should be other rafters coming by today. We can always hitch a ride out with them.”
“Of course,” she said.
He didn’t reply. After a minute of silence, Caitlin turned to him.
“I’m cold, John. Could you put your arm around me?”
“Sure.”
They adjusted the blankets to shield them from the steady rain, and he slipped his right arm around her waist. She leaned her head against his shoulder.
“Thanks, John.”
“Anytime.”
It was a lame response, and he regretted it immediately.
For a few minutes, they sat on that rock, staring up the river without talking, each lost in their own thoughts.
“John?” Her voice was soft, but she spoke with her lips near his ear so that he could hear her over the river.
“Yes?”
“I want you to know how much I appreciate what you did for me yesterday. I know I owe you my life.”
His first reaction was to say, “Don’t mention it.” But that tired expression said nothing that he wanted to say. Instead, he nodded while gathering his thoughts.
Finally, he said, “Caitlin, for you, I’d do it all over again.”
Her cheek moved against his shoulder, but he didn’t trust himself to look into her eyes. He continued to stare upriver.
“You really mean that don’t you?”
“Yes,” he said and added a faint nod.
She was quiet for a few moments. “I’ve noticed you on this trip. I’m not blind, John. I am attracted to you. You are charming, intelligent, and handsome, but I am engaged. I’m going to be married next Saturday.”
He wanted to tell her not to, to tell her to give them a chance to get to know each other better, to give herself time to fall in love with him, just as he had already fallen for her.
Instead, he said, “I understand. You love him, and that’s all that matters.”
“It’s not all that matters, John. I’m very fond of you and given a little time, I would probably fall in love with you, but I can’t turn my back on someone I love and I don’t think you’re a person who would want me to.”
John wasn’t so sure. Right then, he’d have given anything to have her forget Scott and love him.
He looked out over the thundering water and heard her say, “Another time, another place. It could have been us, but it ... I’m so sorry, John.”
“Don’t be sorry, Caitlin. It’s your decision to make and either way, no regrets.”
He saw a quick movement up the river. A raft bobbed into view atop a ridge of water. Someone was coming.
“We have company,” John said, pointing with his left hand.
Caitlin followed his direction as the raft crested another ridge.
She turned to him, and his eyes met hers. He knew he was lost. He’d never find anyone like her again. He’d heard it said that there was a special someone for everyone. Well, if that was so then this was his someone.
Her lips moved. “John, kiss me. I want to know what I’m passing up.”
He slowly lowered his mouth to hers and at that moment he knew, the pain in his chest wasn’t from cracked ribs.
His heart was breaking.
CHAPTER 10
Sunrise brought a change in the wind. The fog returned to its home in the sea leaving John staring out over the surf at a few fishing boats that plowed toward the deep blue. Gulls cried above them, encouraging their day’s work, wishing the fishermen plentiful catches so they would receive their share of the bounty.
He turned away from the bright morning. Caitlin still slept. John had thought about sleeping but found his mind too troubled with memories of the canyon, and paths not taken. Twelve years had passed since he’d last seen her. He had thought of her often during those years but had never tried to look for her or to find out what had happened to her. His life went in a different direction after the canyon, and although he occasionally looked in the rearview mirror, he never tried to reverse course.
He went into the bathroom and took the razor and deodorant from his overnighter. When he finished, he found Caitlin still sleeping soundly. He watched her for a moment, then scribbled her a quick note on the motel’s stationery, and left it on the telephone.
John pulled on his hat and trench coat, deactivated the alarm, and tossed it on the bed. He slipped the latch and then eased the door open. Bright sunlight burst into the room. He stepped outside and silently pulled the door closed behind him. A few people were in the parking lot, but they went about their business, and he spent only a moment examining each of them for some sign of danger.
A Waffle House shared the opposite end of the motel’s parking lot. The vehicles of early-risers clustered around it like gnus around a Serengeti water hole.
He had long since postulated a certain clientele for each of the restaurant chains. McDonald’s drew mostly from the rushing non-adventurous, Wendy’s from more sedate easy-goers, Waffle House from the early-risers and the all-nighters. This time of the morning bought the rare meeting of both groups.
He entered the little building with the scurrying cooks and waitresses and savored the smell of sizzling meat and fresh coffee. There were two vacant stools near the cash register. The nearer stool had an excellent view of the motel. John sat down on cleaned and shiny yellow plastic seat and tipped his hat back. A college-aged waitress appeared immediately.
“What’ll it be?” she held out a plastic-coated menu that deserved retirement.
He didn’t offer to take it, and she stuck it in back in her apron.
“Give me a couple of steak biscuits and two large coffees, to go.”
“You got it, Mister. Anything else?”
John shook his head.
She made a quick notation on her pad and turned away.
Single early-risers took up most of the counter; they had a code that each occupied stool must have at least one empty stool on either side of it. Until the stool supply became tight, they’d never think of sitting next to someone else. The booths were another matter; most of them were occupied by the all-nighters. Couples and threesomes, who had run the gamut of bars and parties, were now forcing down a high-protein breakfast before they returned to their coffins until another sundown.
John appraised the early-risers. These were not the health nuts you could see out jogging at sunrise every morning. Not these boys, they were more the type to suck down a kilo of cholesterol and a liter of coffee before launching their boat for a day of killing fish and swilling beer.
Shortly, his order arrived in a white paper bag. He paid the waitress and left her a decent tip. The walk back to the room was relaxing. Although the morning breeze came across the peninsula, it had a pleasant, fresh smell that belied the dense population farther inland.
He slipped the key into the slot and opened the door. He heard the shower running and saw Caitlin’s empty bed.
He removed the lids from the paper cups, so they’d cool and carried them to the small table by the back window. Then he made himself comfortable in the nearest chair and waited.
She wasn’t long.
The water turned off, and a minute later, the door opened. Caitlin’s damp hair hung against the back of the towel she’d wrapped around her. He stood when she came out. Not out of some misplaced chivalry, but out of the realization that the hotel’s towel, like most hotel towels, barely covered her crotch.
He didn’t need the temptation. Not now, not until he had a handle on his own thoughts and emo
tions.
“Good morning, John.” She sniffed the air. “Coffee? Thanks, I could use some.”
She stopped in front of him so close that the top of her towel brushed against his coat.
“Good morning to you too. I brought you a biscuit. I hope it’s all right.”
“You’re a darling,” she said and briefly kissed him on the cheek before he could respond.
She turned, fished one of the biscuits from the bag, and sat across from him. Demurely she crossed her legs, leaving him with the vivid realization that resisting her would be a lot tougher than he had originally thought.
He took out the other biscuit, unwrapped it, and ate while it was still warm. He washed down each bite with a sip of coffee and tried to keep his attention above Caitlin’s neck.
“So, tell me,” she said between bites. “What have you been doing for the last twelve years?”
“This and that. Mostly that,” he said and took another bite.
She frowned. Most faces wrinkle when they frown, but not Caitlin’s. Her’s was more of the pouty expression of a smooth faced baby.
“That’s not an answer,” she said. “I can understand you not wanting to pick up where we left off. That’s not what I’m really asking. I just want to get to know you again. I haven’t heard anything from or about you until I chanced upon your name on the Web last month. You didn’t even come to the wedding.”
The comment surprised him. “How could I have come to the wedding? You know I wouldn’t have been able to watch you marry him.”
“But you disappeared after that. You were already out of the hospital when we finished the trip, and you never returned to Colorado Springs to finish your doctorate.”
He shrugged. “After the Canyon, I couldn’t see the point. Everyone has a turning point in their life, mine was the canyon.”
“Because of me?”
He stared at her for a second. Could she really be so vain that she thought he had changed his entire life because he couldn’t have her? No, it was probably an innocent question. “No, Caitlin, even if you had been willing to dump what’s-his-name for me, I still wouldn’t have returned to college.”
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