Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
The gentle swoosh of our paddles cutting through the water settled into a peaceful rhythm, the tandem kayak gliding over the river’s surface. With Diego guiding our movements from behind, I’d somehow managed not to flip us.
“Not bad,” Diego called from the back. “You’re getting the hang of it.”
The air felt impossibly crisp, carrying scents of wild roses from the riverbank. In the distance, a fish jumped, leaving perfect concentric ripples in its wake that would have looked amazing on video feed. If I had my phone. Which I didn’t. Because Noah did.
Noah’s kayak drifted alongside us. I tried not to notice how his muscles flexed with each paddle stroke, his wetsuit leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. Water droplets rolled down his forearms, clinging to his skin. I forced myself to look downstream before he caught me staring.
“Look!” Diego pointed skyward where two birds swooped overhead, diving and wheeling. “Those are ospreys. Fish eagles. See how they hover before diving for prey?”
“They’re beautiful.” One bird plunged toward the water in a perfect dive. “It looked like they were dancing together in the air.”
“Probably a mated pair,” said Diego. “They mate for life, returning to the same nest year after year.”
The birds wheeled away downstream, and we followed their path along the river’s gentle current. The steady rhythm of paddling became almost meditative, my anxiety temporarily forgotten in the unexpected peace of the moment.
“Coming up on our first set of rapids,” Noah called from beside us, pulling out my phone to record.
“Just a little baby one to get warmed up,” added Diego.
“Define baby.” My knuckles whitened on the paddle.
“Super chill. Like barely a ripple. We call it the practice rapid.”
The roar of rushing water grew louder. My heart beat faster as we rounded the bend. What appeared ahead did NOT look like practice anything.
“Those are not ripples!” White foam churned over rocks, creating a series of waves that looked decidedly un-chill. “Those are definitely not …”
The kayak nose dipped into the first wave, and ice-cold water sprayed across my face. I screamed, the sound echoing off the canyon walls like I was auditioning for a horror movie.
“Lean forward!” Diego shouted over my shrieking. “Work with the waves!”
Ricky Martin started playing in my head as I shimmied my hips.
“No, forward, not side to side!”
“But you said …”
Another splash hit me square in the mouth. I sputtered and coughed, certain we were about to capsize.
A flash of red caught my eye as Noah glided past us, making the waves look like little more than inconvenient speed bumps.
He had one hand on his paddle while the other casually held my phone out over the side of his boat.
His expression contained the nonchalance of someone watching paint dry rather than navigating what was clearly a death trap.
“Safety first!” I yelled between screams as we bounced through another wave.
Yeti barked happily from Noah’s kayak, her tongue flapping in the wind like a victory flag.
“See?” Diego called. “Nothing to it!”
“Everything to it!” The terror in my voice sent a nearby bird airborne. “Everything to … oh God, another one!”
Water crashed over us again. Through my panic, I caught Noah watching us, that irritating half-smile playing on his lips as he floated backwards. Backwards! Like this was a Sunday stroll through the park.
I wiped water from my face, heart still racing from the so-called “practice” rapid. My wetsuit clung to me like plastic wrap, and my hair plastered all over my face.
“I feel like maybe we skipped practice, and you just threw me straight into the deep end,” I shouted back at Diego.
“Speaking of deep.” Diego’s laugh rumbled behind me. “Thunder Drop is coming up next, one of our signature rapids. Class III on a good day.”
“Class III?” The numbers meant nothing to me, but ‘Thunder’ and ‘Drop’ were not words I wanted to hear in the same sentence while trapped in a floating banana. “That sounds like a ride at Six Flags that makes people throw up.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve run these hundreds of times.” Diego adjusted our angle with a few quick paddle strokes. “Just remember what we practiced. Lean forward, brace with your knees, and …”
“Kiss my ass goodbye?” My lungs temporarily forgot to breathe as I spotted the white water churning between massive boulders.
The river seemed to disappear completely at one point, dropping away into nothing like one of those infinity pools, except instead of a luxurious view of the mountains, there was just liquid oblivion.
“Oh no. No, no, no.” I gripped my paddle so tight my fingers went numb.
“Paddle hard!” Diego shouted. “Keep it steady!”
Noah shot past us again, this time his expression focused and with two hands on the paddle as he charged toward the rapids. Yeti’s tail wagged with excitement as they disappeared over the edge.
“Oh, my God.”
The current grabbed our kayak and we picked up speed, racing toward certain death. The thunder of falling water grew deafening.
“I changed my mind!” I screamed. “I want to go back to the practice one!”
The roar of rushing water drowned out my words as we approached what looked like a wall of white foam.
“Okay!” Diego’s voice carried over the noise. “When I say draw, paddle forward on the right!”
“What?” I twisted around to look at him. The kayak wobbled like a drunk person trying to walk a straight line.
“Eyes front! Draw! Draw!”
I dug my paddle into the left side of the kayak, and we veered sideways toward a boulder that looked suspiciously like a tombstone.
“Other side! Other side!”
I switched, but now we were heading straight for a rock. The current picked up speed like a roller coaster reaching the top of its track.
“brACE!”
“What does that even mean?” I shrieked, lifting my paddle high above my head like I was surrendering to the river gods.
“No, no! Down! Put it ...” Diego’s instructions cut off as we spun in a complete circle.
Water splashed over the sides, soaking my face.
I sputtered and blinked rapidly, mascara surely streaming down my cheeks along with my tears.
“Focus!” Diego called. “We need to …” Another spin. “…straighten out!”
I caught glimpses of shore, river, shore, river as we twirled through the white water. My stomach somersaulted with each rotation, my breakfast threatening a dramatic reappearance.
“Just tell me what to do in English!”
“Put your paddle in the water and LEAN. DOWN. STREAM!”
Everything was a blur of motion and cold spray. The kayak slammed into something hard. My world flipped upside down as I hit the freezing water. The current yanked me under, tumbling me like a sock in a washing machine.
River water rushed up my nose, tasting like dirt and fish. My lungs burned. Which way was up? The churning water tossed me around like I was trapped inside a tornado in the middle of a hurricane.
“Help!”
My life jacket jerked me toward the surface. I gasped for air, only to get another mouthful of muddy water. Another wave crashed over my head. This was it. I was a goner for sure.
But then through the spray, I glimpsed Noah’s red kayak cutting through the rapids. Faster than a charging moose. More powerful than a grizzly bear. Able to leap over tall waves in a single oar stroke.
“Grab the rope!” Noah’s steady, deep voice sliced through the roar of the water.
Something slapped against my arm. I clutched the rescue line, and Noah yanked me through the current with smooth, practiced motions. The rough rope burned my palms, but I held on like my life depended on it. Because it did.
Noah guided me to a calm eddy behind a large boulder. His strong hands gripped my life jacket, hauling me up onto his kayak. I sprawled across the bow, coughing up what felt like half the river and possibly a small fish.
“Are you okay?” Noah’s face hovered close to mine. Gone was the grumpy mountain man facade. Instead, his brows furrowed with … what was that … concern?
His hands steadied me. I could feel their warmth, even through the cold, damp wetsuit. “Sam, are you okay?”
I looked up. We were face to face. Eyes locked. Our mouths, our lips mere inches apart. For a wild moment, I considered telling him I needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I must have hit my head on a river boulder and suffered a concussion.
Suddenly, Yeti’s enormous head burst between us, her tongue sweeping across my face.
“Ugh, Yeti!” I sputtered, pushing her furry face away. “I don’t know what tastes worse, fish pee or dog slobber.”
“Based on personal experience, I’m going to have to go with the dog slobber.” Noah’s smile lingered, transforming his face completely. It was like someone had flipped a switch, turning the grumpy mountain man into someone who could model for outdoor magazine covers. “Let’s get you on solid ground.”
Noah paddled us toward the riverbank, a steady hand securing me across the bow of his boat. Diego waited with the recovered tandem kayak. My teeth chattered despite the summer heat, and my designer “water-resistant” mascara turned me into a raccoon with hypothermia.
Noah steadied the kayak against the rocky shore. “Here, let me help you.” His hands wrapped around my waist, lifting me as if I weighed next to nothing. My legs wobbled as I touched ground, threatening to collapse.
“I’m f-fine,” I stammered, hugging myself for warmth. “Just cold and humiliated.”
Noah unzipped his dry bag and pulled out a frayed but dry towel. “Let’s get you out of that wetsuit.”
My frozen fingers fumbled with the zipper until Noah stepped behind me. “Here.” His breath warmed my neck as he helped peel the clingy neoprene down. I tried not to think about how Noah was literally stripping me out of my clothes, or how his hands moved with careful gentleness.