Chapter Ten
The sky flew by.
SPLAT.
Wanda landed in the water with a bone-jarring sploosh.
“Ah!” she grunted and groaned for a moment until she regained the breath the hard landing had knocked out of her.
“Eric? Are you okay?” She pushed her sodden hair back off her face and blinked away the water streaming into her eyes as she struggled to untangle herself from her disheveled hoodie.
“Crap,” he muttered. “There goes the boat.”
She jerked to her feet, struggling to stand on the rounded rocks in the rushing water. “Grab it!” She trudged toward the boat as it slipped further downstream, sinking slowly into the water.
She’d almost reached the boat when her left foot hit a rock at the perfectly wrong angle. Her foot twisted. And rolled with a crack. Nauseous with agony, she dropped to her knees, uncaring that the water rose to her chest.
Eric was beside her in a second. “What happened?” He held out a hand to assist her to her feet.
“Twisted my ankle.” Gingerly, she tried to set it down. Pain overwhelmed her, and black spots danced in front of her eyes. “Or maybe broke it,” she muttered.
“Let’s get you to shore.”
“Get the boat! All our stuff’s in there.”
“The boat doesn’t matter. You need to sit.” He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and said, “Ready?”
“For what?” She squealed in alarm when he bent, wrapped his other arm around her knee, and scooped her up like the hero in a romantic comedy.
“Geez, give a girl a bit of warning.” She cussed and groaned as the jostling jarred her ankle.
He splashed his way to the far bank.
“You’re going the wrong way!”
“Nope. If the boat’s done for, we’ll have to hoof it to camp, once we get your ankle figured out. That means we’ll need to be on the shore side, not the island in the middle.”
“Good point.” She looked around. “Put me on that rock, right there. I can sit and soak my ankle. The icy water has to help with any swelling. I hope it’s just a twist and will stop hurting right away.”
“Doubt it. It’s bruising up already.”
She wiggled around, trying to see it, but the angle he held her at made it nearly impossible, especially with her bulky life jacket.
“Hold still, or I’ll drop you and make matters worse.” Another six steps and he set her gently on a large rock. He kneeled before her and lifted her foot.
She winced and groaned. She bit back a string of curse words.
“I think we need to take that shoe off. You’re starting to swell.
” Bracing her foot on his raised knee, he tugged at the toggle that crimped the elastic lace of her water shoe.
It didn’t budge. “It’s stuck.” He bent low to examine it.
“There’s no way that’s coming off. Hold tight, I’m going to try and ease the shoe off. ”
She sucked in a bracing breath and nodded.
He tugged.
Pain rocketed through her, bile rose in her throat.
She screamed.
He stopped wiggling the shoe.
Holding her foot with his left hand, he reached into the right pocket of his shorts. “Yes,” he declared and held up a small folding knife.
“You carry a jackknife?” She wrinkled her nose. “What CEO carries a knife?”
“One that likes to be prepared?” he replied, his tone somewhere between a laugh and sarcasm. “This might hurt, but we have to get the shoe off.” He flipped open the blade, slid it under the lace, and with a quick snap upward, cut the lace.
Her foot jerked; she screamed again without meaning to. The relief was instantaneous. “Oooh. That’s better.”
Working quickly but gently, he worked the lace out of its eyelets and stuffed it in his pocket. “Ready?” he asked. “I’m going to pull it off now, and it’s still pretty tight.”
Tensing her entire body, ready for the pain, she nodded. She swallowed another scream, and in five agonizing seconds, the shoe was off. She pushed out a steadying breath. “Thanks.”
“Into the water you go.” He lowered her foot and slowly removed his hands before he looked right into her eyes. “Will you be okay while I’m going to catch the boat?”
Breathless, she nodded, because her mouth was suddenly too dry to form words. Where had this unbidden attraction come from? Now was NOT the time to become interested in a man, this man. Sure, he was attractive and had a good sense of humor. But why now? She’d injured her foot, not her head.
She shook her head to clear the errant thoughts. Who was she trying to kid? She’d been hot for him from her first glance. Being with him only made that heat turn to genuine affection.
Eric rose and made his way carefully to a partially submerged log sticking out from the bank. Their canoe was pushing against it. Hopefully, it would stay there until he reached it.
“Don’t try to save the boat if it’s damaged, just grab our stuff,” she called. He didn’t acknowledge her, and she wondered if he heard her over the roar of the water.
He grabbed the boat’s mooring line and attempted to pull the canoe back to where she was sitting. After a few stumbling steps, he dropped the rope and stood looking at the canoe. She wished she could see his face to see what he was thinking.
He fumbled around inside the boat and lifted her bag from the canoe. Water poured from it as he slung the strap over his shoulder. He grabbed his bag and headed back toward her.
“It’s a good thing our bags were tied in. The cooler and the remains of our lunch are gone, as are our water bottles. They must have been tossed out when we flipped.”
“Dang.”
“There’s a twelve-inch hole in the lower left side. Everything is soaked. I’m going to shore. I’ll wring out everything. And hang it to dry a bit before we strike out. If we can. That foot might give you trouble.”
“Don’t go in my bag,” she blurted. She didn’t want him going through her underthings. Geez! “Can’t you just help me to shore, and I’ll do it myself?”
He gave her a side-eyed look of confusion, not sure what to say. He looked around. Just downstream, past the log that had trapped the canoe, was a patch of sunlight. “I’ll take the bags to the sun, drop them off, and come back for you.”
“I can make it. Just get me to shore, and I can hop along.”
“That hill is eight feet high. You can’t climb it. But,” he waved past the tree and canoe, “down there, it’s much flatter. And sunny. I’ll go first and come back.”
“Fine.”
He laughed.
“What?” She gave him her sternest glare.
“I know what it means when a woman says fine.” He grinned.
“Ha. Ha.”
“It’s right there, in the tone of your voice. You are anything but fine.” His look turned patient and understanding. “I get it. You don’t want to be helpless, but everyone needs help now and then. Let me help you, Wanda.”
She closed her eyes in defeat. “Go ahead. I’ll wait here.”
“I’ll be quick. We’ll get you out of the shade and into the warm sun.”
Struggling to straighten the sodden mess that was her hoodie, she took it off and set it on the boulder beside her.
This whole situation was ridiculous. She was strong and capable.
There was no way she was going to sit here all day.
Glancing at the shore, maybe she could make it if she went carefully.
Hoodie in hand, she slid down into the freezing water. It wasn’t that deep here, not even up to her knees if she were standing. Crazy how the depth changed so quickly.
She couldn’t hop, but she could crawl across the rocky bottom to the shore. That way, Eric wouldn’t have to carry her.
After tying her hoodie around her waist, she lowered herself into the water.
The current battered her ankle around, but it was tolerable.
Gritting her teeth, she inched forward, carefully placing her hands and knees, making sure she was stable before moving again.
She’d learned that during a wall climbing lesson.
Three points stable at all times. She hated climbing; heights were definitely not her thing, but the three-point lesson stuck.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Wanda yipped. Her heart thudded in her ears.
“Eric. Hi.” She looked up at him. From this low, he was a giant. He wasn’t a huge man, nor was he small, but on her knees, wow. “I’m going to shore.”
“I said I’d help you.” He reached down. “Come on, let me help you up.”
“I can make it. It isn’t much further.” In truth, she was freezing, and her limbs didn’t want to move. Her ankle was shooting pains up to her hip, and every movement was agony.
“I know that you can make it. I’m offering assistance.”
Gritting her teeth against her own failure and needing to accept help, she raised one hand and let him help her to her feet. “Thanks.”
His laugh rang out across the river. “That was the least sincere thanks I’ve ever heard. Up you go.”
She was on her feet, trying not to slide on the slippery rocks. “How are we doing this? I can hop.” It would be agonizing, but she would do it.
“I’ll carry you again. You’re light, and it’s not far. Ready?”
She nodded, and he scooped her into his arms, and in ten quick, painful strides, they were ashore and up the hill. “Thank you.” Standing on one foot, she thanked God that the painful jostling had stopped.
“I found a stick. Try using it as a cane. There’s an animal trail that goes down the other side of the hill, and along the edge of the water, straight down to that sunny spot.” He handed her a branch with a curve at one end. “Just let me wring some water from my clothes and we’ll go.”
She twisted her sweater in her hands, squeezing water from it.
She squished as much water from her shirt and shorts as she could.
“Ready.” The path, barely more than a slight flattening of grass, stretched out in front of her.
Careful not to jostle her leg or put too much weight on her ankle, she made her way down the path.
“Watch the roots. There are a couple that stick up. I nearly face planted.”
She smiled at the image but focused on where she was going. The makeshift cane helped, but each step made her leg hurt worse. Finally, she made it and managed to lower herself to the ground.
“My bag,” she grunted through gritted teeth. “Please.”
He brought her the dripping wet backpack. She rummaged inside until she found a plastic zip-lock bag and yanked it out. Its contents were blessedly dry. “Yes,” she cheered and poured two pain tablets into her hand. She swallowed them dry, wishing for water.
“I’m going to start a fire,” Eric said. “Sit tight for a few minutes while I gather kindling.”
Before she could respond, he had gone into the woods and came back with handfuls of dry leaves, some dry moss, and tiny sticks. He made a pile and went back several more times. On his sixth trip, he began hauling back bigger sticks, about the width of his thumbs.
He made a little pile of leaves and moss and dug into his bag.
“Where is it?” he muttered, throwing clothing here and there.
A pair of boxer briefs patterned with hearts and lip prints flew past. She tried not to stare at them.
“Aha!” he held up something orange in triumph.
“I knew I’d seen a lighter in here. Thank you, Mom. ”
“Your mom packed you a lighter?”
“Yup. Ex-smoker. She never goes anywhere without one. She also sent hand lotion, a little package of tissue, and lip balm. She thought of everything.” He bent close to his stack and flicked the lighter. “Yes!”
A tiny blaze burst forth.
A laugh spilled out of her. That tiny fire was the nicest thing she’d ever seen, even if she couldn’t feel any heat from it.
Slowly, he fed the flames until he had a decent, if small, fire burning on the gravel shore where she sat.
Finally, the heat reached her. She held out her hands, warming them in the tiny blaze.
“Ah. This is amazing. I owe your mother the biggest hug.”
“You can pay me in her stead.” He blinked, jumped up, and strode into the woods like he was embarrassed.
Hug him instead? Oh my!
Suddenly, she couldn’t get that image out of her mind.
Her gaze flew to his underwear. Yikes! Frantic for a distraction, she began wringing out the clothing in her bag, carefully keeping her underthings from sight.
They could stay wet. She just needed something to dry out enough to wear.
By the time he returned, wet laundry surrounded her, spread as far as she could reach.
“Good idea,” he said, dumping a stack of wood on the ground and feeding a couple of pieces into the blaze. “There are a couple huge pines. I can hang stuff on them to dry faster. “Which things do you want hung?”
“Um, this and this and this.” She handed him a light sweater, a sleeveless T-shirt, and some leggings. An idea hit her. “Hey, does your phone still work? We could call someone and tell them our canoe died.”
He looked startled. “I forgot all about my phone. That’s a first.” He pulled it out; water dripped from it. He stared at it, disappointment all over his face. “I’m not even going to try and power it on. Not until it has time to dry.”
It was her turn to be disappointed. Crap on a cracker. This sucked. She put on a brave face. “They’ll find us. They’ll notice right away…when we don’t come in for dinner. Like when that other couple was late, and they sent a crew back to find them.”
“Can I help somehow?” She asked an hour later. “I must be able to do something.” He’d spent the time gathering wood for their fire and hanging the clothing to dry.
“Can you keep the fire going for a few minutes? I want to walk back upstream and see if anything else, like our cooler or water bottles, washed ashore.”
“I’m good. There are lots of sticks here.”