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“Tell me how you know Kylie,” he said, knowing the best way to get her mind off the incident was to keep her talking about anything but what was scaring her. It was also the best way to get his mind off the way the thin, wet fabric of her pants clung to her long shapely legs.
“We competed in the Miss Northwest pageant together,” she replied, her voice sounding as dazed as her wide-eyed stare.
Heaven help him. A sorority girl and a pageant queen. Unfortunately, he’d been right and Charlotte Folsom was the exact type of woman he went out of his way to avoid. His already wet hands went clammy. So, maybe he hadn’t been completely honest earlier when he claimed nobody had ever called him judgmental. Some of his best friends had married women just like the one trying not to hyperventilate on the floor of his raft, and those guys often laughed at his semijests that they’d crossed over to the dark side. The pretty women he’d dated in college required too much maintenance. The city women he’d refused to date required a fast-paced lifestyle he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy—or Commodore’s worst enemy, since Alex usually got along with everyone. Charlotte was a combination of both—beautiful and urban—and probably used to the finer things in life. Actually, there was no probably about it. She was a lifestyle expert for a magazine called Fine Tastes. Enough said.
Not that there was anything wrong with those types. They just weren’t for him. Just like the feel of Charlotte’s firm hips and curvy rear end wasn’t for him. Or for his hands. He’d felt her pause when he’d first touched her, wanting only to assist her into the boat after he’d secured the fish. Yet he’d experienced a tremor through his own body that had nothing to do with the frigid water. Had she felt it, too? Was that why she’d paused?
“How long was I under?” she asked, interrupting his inappropriate thoughts.
“Maybe twenty seconds,” he said, then cleared his throat.
“That’s all? It felt like forever.” He’d fallen out of a few boats himself and understood the sensation. It was always an adrenaline dump when a person found out they were never in as much danger as they’d originally thought.
She propped herself up on her elbows. “How’d you catch up to me?”
“You didn’t really get very far. The undertow helped. So, your girls are with the Gregsons?”
“Yes, do you know them? The Gregsons, not my girls. Obviously, you wouldn’t know my girls since you’ve never met them. Oh, my gosh, my poor girls.” When the woman’s voice shook, Alex cursed himself for trying to talk about a pleasant subject. “What if I’d died and never saw them again?”
“Listen, Charlotte. Your children are fine. And you’re fine. Focusing on all the ‘what ifs’ is no more productive than bouncing around in those rapids back there.”
Charlotte lifted her head enough to peek over the side. “Are we past them, then?”
“Yes.”
“Do we have to go through more areas like that one before we stop at that clearing you talked about?”
“Only two more.”
She shivered, and he wasn’t sure if it was just her subsiding panic or the wind that had picked up. Normally, they recommended wearing wetsuits this time of year because of the cool water temperatures. But because the more risky rapids were still miles away, he’d figured they could change into the uncomfortable things only if they decided to go that far down river.
He glanced down at her lips, which had gone from cotton candy pink to pale blue. Yet she didn’t utter a single complaint. Alex was a firm believer that if some tourist wanted a firsthand experience of the land, they should be ready for all the elements Mother Nature could dish out. But Charlotte Folsom was also just doing her job, and even if he didn’t appreciate the necessity of whatever a lifestyle expert was, he had to give the woman credit for her commitment and her work ethic.
He especially had to admire that her biggest concern had been for her children and he wondered if her daughters had any idea how lucky they were to have a mom who worried about abandoning them. Not everyone was as fortunate.
Besides, while he knew how to put up a good front and calm down a customer, Alex was pretty sure his heartbeat was still bouncing along at the same tempo as the rapids behind them. He talked a big game when it came to people being tough enough to survive the vast wilderness, but at the end of the day he alone was responsible for bringing this woman back to her daughters. It was a powerful responsibility and one he normally didn’t take lightly—which made him feel all the more like a jerk for those initial judgments he’d made about her lifestyle and her wardrobe. It made him feel even worse for the thoughts he’d been having all day about wanting to put his hands on her.
But of the two guilt-inducing feelings, Alex knew it was in his best interest to remain skeptical and aloof. He’d never had to struggle with breaking his well-established rule about hooking up with the female clientele because he’d never been as attracted to one as much as he was to Charlotte.
He let out a ragged breath and felt his shoulders pull forward.
Maybe he should stop and let her change into some dry clothes, that is, if she’d packed an extra set of the name brand gear. And maybe he could take a second to get his own head back on straight and remind himself that she was just another customer. Just another woman.
“Listen, Charlotte, we still have about another hour or so to get to that spot I was telling you about. But, there’s a place up ahead where we can pull out and you can dry off and regroup.”
Alex knew better than to suggest that a lady might need some time to calm down. Growing up without a mother, he’d been a slow learner when it came to figuring the female species out, but by the time he got to college, he’d learned to avoid the high maintenance ones. And in Alex’s opinion, most of them were high maintenance. Unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly avoid the woman shivering in front of him.
“I really don’t want you to have to go to any extra trouble for me. Especially because I never would have fallen into the water if I’d been paying better attention. But...” She hesitated long enough that he could hear her teeth chattering. “Would it be too much of an inconvenience?”
A few clouds had cleared, but Alex had lived on this mountain all his life and knew the weather could change on a dime. “Well, I’d prefer to pull out on the left bank, because the majority of access roads are on that side of the river.”
“Is there anywhere to stop on that side?” She was sitting up straight, now, and even had an oar cradled in front of her. He followed her gaze to the craggy, sheer side of the canyon.
“Not for a couple more miles.” Her nod was swallowed by another shiver. He had to admire her perseverance. Many inexperienced urbanites would’ve been complaining already. “Actually, this spot coming up on the right side wouldn’t be a bad place to stop for a few minutes.”
He saw the relief in her shoulders as she climbed back onto her perch and stuck her oar back in the water. It only took a couple of minutes to steer them onto a wide stretch of riverbank. Alex tied the raft to the branch of a fallen log, then held out his hand to assist a very wet Charlotte, careful not to allow himself to get too close to her again. Her fingers were rigid with cold and he doubted a quick change of clothes would do much to help elevate her body temperature. Yet, despite her quivering lips, she stood on the pebbled shore and stared at the lush green foliage in front of her.
“This is gorgeous,” she said, then blinked a few times as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “It’s so remote and untamed. I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
Alex smiled, somewhat awed by her appreciation for the land, and his chest expanded as though he was responsible for its design. Since he handled the store and the recreational sports side of the business, his dad was usually the one to witness the tourists’ first impressions of being completely surrounded by nature. In fact, Alex hated to admit it, but having been raised on the mountain, he was so accustomed to the great outdoors that he sometimes had to remind himself not to take it for granted.
“It is pretty incredible, huh?” Alex squeezed her hand, telling himself he was just trying to stimulate more blood flow through her freezing fingers. But when she returned the squeeze, he suddenly had to worry about his own blood flow. And the way it was racing to the part of his body just south of his waistband. He quickly dropped her hand.
Again with the inappropriate thoughts. She was a paying client and he’d never had trouble separating business from pleasure before. Sure, she was a knockout, but she was also from a world very different than his own. If history had taught him nothing else, it was to keep his distance from women like her.
“Too bad we can’t do the photo shoot with this as the background.” Charlotte’s chattering teeth didn’t stop her from smiling. But it did stop him from using his better judgment.
“You know what, why don’t we take the pictures here?” For the hundredth time, Alex looked up at the sky and hoped the weather would hold just a little longer, because his good sense was slowly floating away. “I was actually thinking you could benefit from a little fire and if you can do your cooking thing while I set up a pretend campsite, we can snap a few photos and be back in the raft in an hour.”
“That would be so incredible, if you’re sure you don’t mind.” Her eyes were currently a deep shade of blue and he wondered how to make the violet hue return.
“Nah. To be honest with you, I’d be relieved to just get it all over with quicker and have Commodore meet us at that clearing I was telling you about.” He pulled out his cell phone and looked at the screen. “Too bad we still don’t have reception, otherwise, I could have him waiting for us when we got there.”
“Since we’re being honest...” Charlotte stretched her arms over her head “...I would rather wait on land than paddle through any more rapids.”
It was a normal response for a person who’d never experienced the physical exertion and danger of paddling on one of the most unpredictable rivers in Idaho. Alex respected her candor, even if the admission didn’t surprise him. It was also a good reminder that Charlotte Folsom was from the city and his body had no business reacting to her with anything other than concern.
“Here,” he said, unhooking her waterproof duffel bag and handing it to her. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to find a tree to hide behind and change.”
A blush shot up her cheeks, bringing some much needed color to her cool skin. “How do you know someone won’t see me?”
“This is national forest land and the surrounding thousand or so acres are prohibited to hikers and campers.”
“So, we shouldn’t be here?”
“I know the local rangers. If we get caught, they won’t slap us with too big of a fine.” He was trying to make a joke, but her eyes were completely serious.
“But we’d be breaking a rule.”
“You’ve never broken a rule before?”
She bit her lower lip, her brows scrunched together as though she were trying to recall the answer. “Not knowingly. Besides, I think it would set a bad example for my daughters if they saw me doing something against the law.”
“If it puts your mind at ease, Russell’s Sports has a special permit allowing us access to the river and the areas near the shoreline. Unless we get too deep in the woods over there,” he pointed toward the towering redwoods about a hundred yards away, “we’re not breaking any laws. So, the sooner we get those pictures taken, the sooner I can get you back to your daughters and you can tell them about your great rule-following adventure.”
Charlotte had looked skeptical until he’d mentioned her kids and then the woman couldn’t move quickly enough up the bank and toward to the pine trees surrounding the tall grass meadow.
Alex admired her eagerness to be reunited with her children, refusing to think about other mothers who couldn’t wait to ditch their kids and return to their lives in New York. Not that he was bitter about something that had happened over thirty years ago or anything.
He unloaded several of the dry boxes and carried them to the grass above. Then he returned to the bank to collect a few small boulders to circle around a campfire. He grabbed a small hatchet from the box of supplies and set out in the opposite direction of Charlotte. By the time he returned to the makeshift pit, he had enough dry branches and wood chips to get a small fire going.
Charlotte walked toward him, looking drier and much more relaxed than she had a few moments ago. She also looked more beautiful than she had when she’d stepped out of Commodore’s Jeep. Her damp hair was darker and wrapped up into some sort of loose bun on top of her head, a fringe of bangs covering her forehead. The elastic headband was still in place, but her hair looked more natural, less formal.
From his kneeling position, he tried not to stare at the way the athletic fabric of her yellow, long-sleeved T-shirt clung to her small, pert breasts. Especially since he was pretty certain that her bra was drying with the rest of her wet clothes hanging off a nearby branch.
He struck the first match and got his thumbnail instead. Damn it.
Focus, Alexander. He heard his father’s voice reminding him that the customers come and go, but the river and the land were always there and deserved his full attention and respect. He knew better than to let a woman distract him, especially while lighting a fire. Besides, it was better than Commodore’s voice, which was a gruff, Pay attention, son, accompanied by a light smack across the back of his head.
“Is there anything you need me to set up before I start cleaning Trouty?” Charlotte asked.
He finally got a small flame going and blew on it a few times before responding. “You named our lunch?”
She leaned over his shoulder and looked at his wristwatch. It was well after three o’clock. “Technically, I named our dinner if we don’t hurry.”
Technically, if she moved any closer to him, he’d fall into the fire he’d just lit. He stood up a bit too quickly and the top of his head bumped into her chin.
“Ow,” she said, at the same time he blurted out an apology.
“Are you hurt?” He took either side of her face between his palms and, after nudging her hand out of the way, studied her jaw.
He didn’t know if it was the heat from the fire or something else that caused her face to warm up. But from the way she was avoiding eye contact with him, he had to wonder if she was reacting to his nearness the same way he’d just reacted to her tight shirt. Then he had to wonder why he cared.
“No, it’s my fault,” she said suddenly, taking a step back. “I’m usually not so accident prone.”
“Good thing we have a well-stocked first aid kit, then.” Alex wasn’t good with lighthearted banter. Or with women who expected too much from him. He needed to get back to what he did best. “So, tell me where you want me to set up the tent.”
“I was thinking by those trees,” she said, pointing to the smaller ponderosas away from the river. “It’s too bad the sun isn’t setting, otherwise we’d get an awesome shot of the light coming through the branches.”
“Trust me, we don’t want to be here after the sun sets.”
Her eyes grew into perfect circles and now looked more violet than blue. “Why? Are there bears and wild animals?”
“Probably. But I was actually referring to being on the river at night with a storm coming. And right now, we’re burning daylight.”
“Right,” she said, and set to work going through the container holding cooking supplies. But he noticed the way she stole glances toward the forest, as though she was worried an unwelcome visitor would join them for their meal.
Alex began pitching the tent, then decided the pictures would look more realistic if he set up some sleeping bags and a lantern inside. He’d had his doubts about Charlotte’s ability to cook something over an open fire rather than in a fancy state-of-the-art kitchen and those concerns doubled when he realized she was stopping every few minutes to take pictures of what she was doing with her smart phone. But when the mouthwatering scent of pan-fried fish reached his nostrils, he began to rethink his initial concerns.
Or maybe he was just hungry. He knew he should’ve had the stuffed French toast at the Cowgirl Up Café in town this morning instead of the simple bowl of oatmeal. Good thing his dad always taught him to pack extra dried food supplies, even for these day trips. He didn’t care how indigenous Charlotte Folsom wanted her staged meal to appear. If it didn’t taste good, he wasn’t eating it.
Alex made his way toward the fire to investigate whether he’d need to resort to freeze-dried tuna, but before he got there, a booming roar sounded and a flash lit up the gray sky. He saw Charlotte jump at the crashing noise, right before he saw a bolt of lightning hit one of the lower hanging trees by the river bank.
The tree splintered in two, with the heavier side falling in slow motion—right toward where he’d moored the raft.
Chapter Three (#ub6a6dc8a-16d1-5091-a21b-a86610609c0a)
Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic.
Charlotte wasn’t sure if it was Alex talking to her or her own psyche. But it was good to remember that she wasn’t all by herself.
The raft was gone. The rope snapped when the tree landed on it and sent the inflatable boat rushing down the river. She wasn’t one to be a pessimist, but if that wasn’t bad enough, the overhead clouds finally gave way and opened with a sheet of rain. “What do we do?”
“Grab the food,” Alex said over a loud clap of thunder. “I’ll close the dry boxes and meet you in the tent.”
“Wait, what if lightning strikes the tent?”
“The poles are fiberglass, not metal. And it’s better than sitting out here in the wide open. Besides, it usually goes for the tallest thing in an area and since the tent is by a grouping of smaller trees, we shouldn’t be in too much danger.”
“Did you see what happened to the last tree it hit?”
“Charlotte, take Trouty and get in the damn tent, please.”
Rules and lists and directions made her feel safe. Having someone with her who knew the rules and how to give directions made her feel even safer. She pulled the sleeve of her shirt over her hand and picked up the skillet, which was still warm. As she ran toward the open tent, she felt a sense of peace come over her. Again she thought about the book she’d read right before embarking on this trip. In Our Natural Souls, the author spoke of how, hundreds of years ago, people with a lot less resources survived a lot worse conditions than these.
She took one steady breath and then another. This situation was only temporary and they’d get through it. In fact, Charlotte bet people from all over the world would pay Russell’s Sports big money for exactly this type of adventure, being forced to commune with nature. The rain wouldn’t hurt her, it would only add depth to her article. She needed to focus on the positive.
By the time Alex ducked into the tent, he almost looked surprised to see her sitting cross-legged in the center. She was calmer than even she would’ve thought possible. And if she hadn’t been, then she’d at least had years of etiquette classes to teach her how to pretend she wasn’t on the cusp of a panic attack.
“I suppose there’s some sort of plan set in place for these types of unexpected events?” she asked.
“The plan is that we hole up from the storm and wait for someone to come get us.”
“How do you know they’ll find us?” Whoops, that anxiety was creeping back into her voice.
“Why wouldn’t they?”
She wanted to hear answers, not more questions.
She held herself perfectly still, looking at the flapping material of the tent and hoping this thing could withstand what felt like hurricane strength winds and rain lashing against it. “What if they don’t even know we’re gone?”
“Com knows when to expect us at the pickup location. Even he will miss us after a while,” he said, fiddling with the lantern he’d brought in with him. “As long as it doesn’t interfere with the Deadliest Catch marathon he planned to watch this evening. Besides, someone will spot an empty raft eventually, and hopefully notify the Forestry Department.”
The light flared to life and it wasn’t until then that Charlotte realized how dark it had gotten outside. “So they should show up any time?”
“Well...” Alex wasn’t looking at her and the pit in her stomach sank deeper than she had into the Sugar River.
“Tell me.” She might be nervous, but it wasn’t like she was some emotional basket case who couldn’t handle the truth. She’d certainly weathered worse figurative storms than this and knew it would be best to arm herself with all the facts.
“When we don’t show up, or when someone finds our raft, they’ll realize we got stuck out here and ground crews will start looking for us on the left side of the river because that’s the easiest for them to access. Since we’re on the right side, it might take a bit longer.”
“But they should be able to see us from the water, right? This tent is bright orange.”
“Nobody will be on the river with weather conditions like this. Even a rescue crew.” She tried not to shudder at the word rescue. That made things sound so much more dire. “If the lightning does move on and the wind eventually calms, it’s still too soon to tell how much rain has already dumped down, which means there’s a risk of potential flash flood conditions. Then, when you add debris and falling trees and rocks to the mix, it makes the river way too dangerous. And that’s just during daylight.” He looked at his watch.
She felt the curves of her fingernails dig into her palms. “So, level with me, Alex. How long do you think we’ll be out here?”
“Honestly, it just depends on the storm. But the good news is that we have plenty of supplies out there, hopefully not getting too wet. And we have shelter. Things could be a lot worse.”
