by Tina Michele
* * *
A muffled, groaning cry from the bathroom stopped everyone in their spots. Willa’s stomach lurched in recognition of Haven’s voice. While everyone else had been oblivious of Haven and Diego on their way to the lodge, Willa had seen the pained look on Haven’s face. Haven had disappeared into the office, but Willa heard the whispers from the kitchen just before four of them had rushed through the house to the office.
Willa stood in line for the buffet, but each time it nudged forward she allowed the person behind her to go ahead. Her place in line was the best position to see the office door without making it obvious.
Willa met Mama Lu halfway to the dining room. “Is Haven all right?”
“Yes, she’s okay. Just a little accident with the fire logs. Nothing to worry about.”
Willa could feel that she was being brushed off with the same generalized information she was about to share with the rest of the group. But Willa deserved more than that. After all, she was Haven’s…nothing, actually. She was nothing. She had no more right to knowledge than the room full of strangers in the next room. But they had history; they had a connection, and Willa wanted more. “I know Haven. I know the kind of situations that make her cry like that. What happened?”
Willa didn’t know what caused Mama Lu’s expression to soften, but it had. “They’re cleaning it out now. Shannon doesn’t think it’s broken. Thank goodness. It’s banged up and bloody.”
“Oh no. Did she pass out?” It made sense to her now why Diego had such a hold on her and why Haven’s face was drained of color.
“I don’t believe so.”
Willa tried to imagine how much pain Haven was in and wondered how she was coping with the blood. If she hadn’t passed out then she might have been just as fine as Mama Lu had said. Plus, for all Willa knew it could just be one other thing about Haven that had changed. With her dangerous new adventure hobbies, it might have just been a normal thing for her now. Although that didn’t explain the look on Haven’s face earlier. Willa looked around Mama Lu toward the office and wondered how she’d be received if she just popped her head in the room.
“It’s probably not a good idea,” said a low voice from behind her. Mama Lu smiled softly and excused herself. Wingman slid around her into the spot his mother had just occupied.
“I just wanted—”
“I know. But no. One, from what I know about Haven, she’s probably embarrassed as shit. And two, if she didn’t pass out I’d be surprised.”
“She still passes out at blood, huh?”
“Oh yeah. She’s tough as nails on the water, but don’t squash a mosquito around her or down she goes.”
Willa found it somewhat endearing that as tough as she’d seemed to have become, she still held on to a part of her old self. And from the story Mama Lu relayed about the incident, Haven also appeared to have kept her clumsiness, too. “Okay,” Willa said hesitantly.
“I’m headed in to check on things, so I’ll make sure everything’s okay and let you know.”
“I’d appreciate that. You know, we all would.”
“Of course.”
Willa tried to catch a glimpse of anything when he opened the door to the office, but there was nothing to see. She waited just a few seconds to see if he would return right away, but he hadn’t returned before Corey summoned her to the table for dinner.
“I fixed you a plate,” Corey said as Willa slid onto the bench.
“Thanks.”
“So she smashed her hand between two logs, huh? Damn!”
“Yeah.” Willa picked at the salad with her fork.
“Do you think she’ll still be able to kayak?”
Willa hadn’t even thought about it being so bad that Haven couldn’t be in her boat the rest of the week. “Shit. I don’t know.” As distracting as Haven was, Willa hated the idea that she wouldn’t get to see her all day on the river. She couldn’t help but think things might be easier for her out there without Haven, but this most certainly wasn’t the way she’d have it.
“We’ll have to wait and see, I guess.”
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Willa heard the sound of a door and chattering of voices from the other room. She set her fork down and stared waiting for Haven to come into the room. She needed to see that she was okay. By this time everyone else was positioning themselves to see Haven, and Willa was craning her neck around the others and not even attempting to be discreet. Wingman came through first. His eyes met Willa’s and he nodded at her. While his affirmation eased a knot in her stomach, she waited for Haven, who followed in behind Diego. Willa stood up to see over everyone else. She breathed a sigh of relief when Haven smiled, but the last of it caught in her throat at the sight of Haven’s bandaged hand.
“Haven, my gosh!” Willa heard Corey call out.
Haven stopped when Corey spoke. Willa’s eyes darted between Corey and Haven in surprise. “Hey,” Haven said to Corey.
“Are you okay?” Willa blurted out. Haven’s eyes were tired and bloodshot from tears. It was then that Willa knew just how badly she’d hurt herself.
Haven smiled at Willa. “Oh, you know me.” Haven raised her arm to give Willa a closer look.
“Yeah.” Willa gently touched the exposed tips of Haven’s wrapped fingers. The touch was so light, but Willa could feel an energy pass between them. “I do.”
Chapter Ten
Haven moaned when her alarm broke through her last few moments of sleep. For the first time at camp, she wanted to sleep in. She wanted to pretend that her hand wasn’t throbbing to the rhythm of her heartbeat, and she wanted to pretend that rhythm wasn’t at double-time every time she thought about Willa. The problem with that was Haven couldn’t escape her in sleep any more than she could awake. It had taken a few years, but Willa’s dream appearances had become few and far between. When she did come to her, Haven had always woken up exhausted and disappointed. She would spend restless nights chasing, running, and crying with Willa always just out of her reach, beyond the tips of her fingers where she was never able to touch her.
Each one of the last few nights had been filled with those dreams, variations of new and old. The difference was that last night they had finally touched. It wasn’t a dream or her imagination when Willa had reached out to her. Haven didn’t pull away, and she forgot any pain in that moment as she watched Willa’s fingertips touch hers. There had been no crying, no chasing, and no begging her to come back. Unlike in her dreams, Haven had asked for nothing and expected even less, yet Willa had answered.
Haven looked at her bandaged hand and the exposed tips where Willa had brushed her fingers. They were a bit more wrinkled than the day before, which meant they weren’t swollen. A good sign. That was until she attempted to make a slow fist. She felt the wounds stretch and rub against the gauze and prayed they weren’t stuck to the fabric. She was curious to see the damage she’d done to herself this time around.
She began to unwind the wrapping when Shannon popped her head in. “Eh. I knew you were gonna do that. Get changed and I’ll redress it before breakfast.”
Haven agreed to wait for Shannon to help her and rolled out of bed to get dressed.
“Um, you’re not planning on going out on the river today, are you?” Shannon asked when Haven came out into the kitchen with her gear.
“Um, yeah. Of course I am.”
“Sit down,” Shannon said. Once Haven sat, Shannon started unwrapping her hand. “Not if you can’t move your hand or grip a paddle.”
“Once you get this bandage off, I will.” With the outer wrap off, Haven grimaced as Shannon peeled the smaller pieces of gauze from her fingers. She took a couple of deep breaths before looking down at her exposed hand. Her stomach didn’t flip; it just wobbled a bit at the sight. “Okay. Okay. It’s not so bad. It was worse in my imagination.” Her knuckles were scraped up pretty good and there was a decent amount of bruising, but overall it wasn’t the worst she’d done to herself. “Okay. For these her
e we could use the waterproof Tegaderm.” She pointed to the first row of knuckles. The second knuckles of her middle and ring finger took the worst of it, so she suggested a Tegaderm layer as well. Haven decided to use a beeswax bandage for her other fingers, which would work to keep anything out of those scrapes.
“What about your grip?”
“It’s fine. I’ve done this with a torn rotator cuff. I can manage with a few bruised knuckles.” Her defense sounded more convincing than it felt. Honestly, Haven wasn’t sure she could grip the paddle all that well, but she had plenty of other skills and maneuvers to make up for it. She hoped. “Damn it!” Haven screamed as Shannon poured the peroxide straight from the bottle over her wounds. “I fucking hate you,” she growled.
“If you insist on putting yourself in the river with a literal handful of open wounds, then we need to make sure it’s clean first.”
“Right. That makes no sense.”
“Don’t even get me started with shit that doesn’t make sense, Ms. I’m-gonna-kayak-anyway.” Shannon soaked a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doing with that, but—”
“It’s either this or telling Mama Lu not to let you on the water, for liability purposes.”
Haven’s mouth dropped open. “You wouldn’t!”
“Try me.” Shannon dabbed Haven’s wounds and the surrounding skin, then blew it dry like she would for a child.
Haven hissed and bit her lip trying to transfer some of the pain and sting elsewhere. Her hand was on fire. She closed her eyes and thought about the way Willa’s delicate touch had taken away the pain for those brief moments. Before she knew it, Shannon had finished applying the waterproof dressings. The slow burn of the alcohol was wearing off and so was some of the sharpest pain. A few minutes of ice during breakfast and she would be good to go.
Once Shannon had the scrapes cleaned up, they both headed up the drive to the lodge.
Mama Lu met them at the door. “So? Lemme see.” She held out her hand for Haven to show her. “Shannon?”
“It’s fine. Just bruised and a little stiff,” Haven said before Shannon could answer.
“I didn’t ask you.”
Shannon looked at Haven and smiled. “She has multiple abrasions and contusions, but no obvious sign of fracture. I recommend rest, ice, and ibuprofen for pain.”
“So she’s staying at camp today?” Mama Lu asked.
“No!” Haven shouted. “Please?” Haven begged Shannon.
“No. She knows her pain limits. If she feels that she can do it, I don’t have a reason she can’t.”
“I can!” Haven felt like a kid trying to convince her parents to let her have a pony. “I can do it.” Haven flexed her bandaged hand to prove her point and instantly regretted it. She stifled a sob of pain and smiled through her clenched jaw.
Mama Lu looked at Haven and agreed. “I trust you, Haven. If you say it’s fine, I believe you.”
She thought, Oh, shit. That fucking hurt, but said, “No worries, Mama.” She’d gotten her way. Pain or no pain, she couldn’t change her mind now. Haven dismissed herself and headed straight for the drawer of zip baggies and then to the icebox. One upside to being on the river was the ten miles of freezing water to soak her hand in.
She set herself up with her laptop, ice pack, and camera to download the previous day’s pictures before they headed out after breakfast. As the images transferred onto her computer, they played through in a slideshow. There were so many amazing shots of the campers immersed in unscripted flashes of joy and excitement that made Haven smile. In these pictures they were so much more than their diagnosis or prognosis. Beyond her love of the water and kayaking, she truly loved this part of her job. As the last few images scrolled across the screen, she knew she’d not taken them. Someone had picked up her camera at the hot springs and captured a handful of images, including the final photo on the roll that took her by complete surprise. There she was wrapped in Willa’s arms where for a split second they appeared like they’d been caught in an intimate lovers’ embrace. They were half dressed, dripping with water, and pressed against each other in a moment Haven had tried desperately to erase from her mind the day before. “Haven!” someone called, and Haven slammed her laptop closed.
* * *
It wasn’t like Willa to oversleep, but she had been up and down most of the night wondering how Haven was doing. By the time morning came she was exhausted and slept right through the breakfast bell. Willa hadn’t even heard Corey get up or leave, which surprised her. She rushed to get ready and quickstepped it across the lawn to the lodge.
Breakfast was already set out and everyone except a few of the volunteers had gotten their plates. Several campers, including Corey, had taken their seats around Haven, who looked as tired as Willa felt. It was obvious by her weary expressions that Haven had not slept well either. The pain must’ve been far worse than whatever medication Shannon had to give her. Yet she laughed and conversed with the group as if nothing had happened.
Corey waved Willa over and scooted along the bench to make space for Willa to sit. She hesitated at first since Corey was sitting and chatting with Haven, but her curiosity and need to check on Haven won out. She set her plate down and slid into her seat without a word.
“Willa, check this out!” Corey motioned toward Haven and the arm resting in her lap.
“Oh, she’s eating. I don’t think—”
Willa cut her off. “No. It’s okay.” She wanted to see it. Even if this sort of thing had been something that disturbed her appetite, she would still want to see.
Haven’s eyes were wide with surprise. “Oh. Okay.” She slowly raised her arm and rested her hand on the table. Although they had already seen it, everyone gasped anyway.
Willa’s stomach tightened and her face flushed. “Oh, Haven.” She wanted to reach out and caress her battered hand but resisted the urge. “I’m so sorry,” was all she could say.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault.” Haven smiled. “Besides, it looks much worse than it is.”
Willa looked into Haven’s eyes for any sign of pretense, but there was none. Or at least none she had the ability to recognize. “Well, I’m sorry you won’t be on the river with us today, then.”
“Yes, she will,” Corey interjected.
Willa glanced between Corey and Haven. “What?” Willa asked in disbelief.
“Sure. It’s okay. I’ve gotten worse on the river. See?” Haven stood and raised her pant leg to expose a series of scars that ran up the length of her shin. Everyone, including Willa, craned their necks to see. “Went for a swim on the South Canyon rapid and bounced off a bridge piling. Well, less bouncing, more scraping.”
Willa noticed how proud Haven was of her injury. She wondered how many other wounds and scars her body had acquired over the last few years. Haven had always been rather clumsy and managed to injure herself doing the most mundane tasks. Willa recalled the one time she had nearly sliced off her finger while shopping for hurricane lamps, and the day she earned an ER trip after giving herself a concussion with a KitchenAid mixer. She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she couldn’t help herself. “Are you sure you should?”
“Well, I assure you that whatever doubts you have about my ability to be on the river are misplaced, Willa.”
“I only meant—”
“Ha!” Corey interrupted. “We already talked about it before you got here. It’s all good.” Before the conversation could move forward or take a sharper turn for the worst, breakfast was over and Wingman was shooing everyone to their morning groups. Willa hadn’t meant to offend Haven. She just wanted to make sure that she wasn’t putting herself in jeopardy to prove a point. Her intention was to express concern, although looking back she could see why Haven had reacted the way she did. Willa had no right to question Haven or her choices. She lost that right years ago.
The bunkhouse seemed to get more disheveled as the days passed. It was no longer
just Haven’s clothes and equipment piled around the room. It seemed as though it had joined forces and multiplied with all the others. Willa sat with the rest of her group and took several deep breaths. She woke up tired, and now she was hungry because she hadn’t eaten any of her breakfast, and she was irritable from her interaction with Haven. And if all that wasn’t enough, Spartan felt the need to be the first one heard.
“Was it just me or did I rock the kayaking thing yesterday? Y’all did well, too. Well, maybe not Willa.” He paused for laughs, but got nothing. “Someone had a little problem staying on the top side of the water.”
“Hey, now. That’s not what we’re here for, Spartan. It’s not a competition,” Wingman said.
“Not technically,” Spartan said.
“Not at all,” Survivor said. “I’m not sure you’re understanding the point of this camp if you believe it’s about competing against each other.”
The entire group was silent when Survivor finished speaking. Willa knew in her heart that she was right. This wasn’t a competition, yet here she was being challenged by Mr. Douche in Boots, and boy, did she want to kick his ass in the worst way. Willa sat silently, lost in her own world, as the group discussed the lesson from the day before. When they were dismissed from group, Willa sped from the bunkhouse to find Corey, get on the bus, and then make Spartan eat his own arrogant words. Once they were on the road and headed down the mountain, her stomach growled, reminding her that it was very much empty.
Chapter Eleven
Haven almost wished that today was “ranch day,” and not their second day on the river. That way she could get a day to rest her hand while campers were off horseback riding and hiking in the White River National Forest that adjoined the ranch. But that was tomorrow. Today they were going to run the Colorado again. This section was more challenging than the day before and would test their new skills several times along the way. The forecast called for clouds, rain, and temperatures in the sixties, but that was just a part of the adventure. Haven didn’t mind the rain in the canyon; it added an ethereal magic and natural music to the experience.