Page 45 of Lost With You
“Maybe we should just forge ahead.” Now that they were out of the roiling tumult of the river, all kinds of odd thoughts and unnerving feelings crept back. “You told me none of these rapids would be worse than Class II, Dylan.”
He pulled the canoe up the bank. “Did that feel like Class II to you?”
She wasn’t sure. The turbulence in her heart was adding to the intensity of the experience and muddling her ability to judge either. Also, the Snake River had been another trip, another assignment, a whole different world. A world before she met Dylan, an event that now divided her life into a new kind of before and after.
“I love your sense of adventure, Casey.” He waded to her end of the canoe, holding out his hands with a wolf’s grin. “But it can’t hurt to look ahead.”
She leaned over and set her hands on his shoulders as he hauled her out, dodging his gaze the minute her feet hit the water. She didn’t want to talk last night, and she didn’t want to talk right now, either. There was a storm brewing in her head, and she struggled to control it just like she’d struggled to control the canoe. Instead of looking at him, she waded onto the hard-packed shore, noticing the grooves in the dirt, indications of regular traffic from other canoes and kayaks. She stopped short at the sight of the charcoal remains of a bonfire. Brown and green beer bottles lay empty nearby.
Her heart dropped at the first sign of human habitation she’d seen since long before Owl’s Head Rock.
Dylan came up beside her. “I guess they never heard of ‘take only pictures, leave only footprints.’”
She murmured, “We’re not in the deep woods anymore.”
“This is a launching area. There must be a whitewater tour outfit within driving distance. I see a path through those woods.”
Her stomach dropped even lower.
“If this is any indication,” Dylan said, “we’ll be at the last tributary to the Saint Lawrence River by day’s end.”
Her ribs tightened. She’d hoped for a day or two more to be alone with him. She knew they were getting close, but seeing solid evidence and hearing those words from his lips made her jumpier than three cups of coffee.
Whatwasshe going to do when this trip was at an end? Just blithely step into her van and drive away as if nothing had happened out here in the wilderness, as if she hadn’t just faced what she’dreallythrown away all those years ago?
“Maybe you’re right, Casey.” Dylan moved close to her, though he squinted down the length of the river. “It’s a waste of time to scout ahead.”
She nodded, distracted.
“Rapids like this,” he said, “aren’t supposed to be easy, anyway. They sweep you away to where you might not want to go, but you have no choice in the matter.”
Her emotions were sweeping her away, that was the real problem.
“The thing is, I’ve made a trip like this once before.” He planted his hands on his hips. “My sister warned me I was in trouble before I even started that trip, but I didn’t listen to her.”
“You mean…Anne?” Of the bridesmaid’s dress?
He nodded. “Anne was right about that trip. I was thrown into the deep water headfirst. I suffered the consequences for a long time.”
She came to sudden attention. Was he still talking about the expedition?
“After that adventure’s end, I fooled myself into thinking wrong timing was at the root of all the trouble.” He turned his gaze on her, sober and steady. “The truth was that I didn’t choose the right partner.”
The hair rose on her arms.
“But here’s the thing: I wouldn’t have known whether she was the right partner unless I made a commitment, for better or for worse.”
She felt bolted in place, her feet sinking another inch deeper in the mud. Dylan had spoken of commitment once before, right at the beginning of the expedition. He wasn’t looking for a commitment, so he’d told her. She’d taken him at his word.
She said, “You’re talking about your wife.”
“Ex.” He scraped at the mud with a bare foot. “I was too young to see it at the time, but we were wrong from the start.”
He looked away, taking on a thousand-mile stare. A muscle moved in his cheek, flexing the stubble that had grown into a short, thick beard. She wanted to touch it, bury her fingertips in it, but the weight of the moment held her still.
He shifted in discomfort, looking everywhere but at her. “The way I figure, there comes a moment in any adventure when you have to decide what risks you’re going to take and whether it’s wise to move forward.”
A lump formed in her throat. “These waters are dangerous, Dylan.”
