Chapter 27
RAVEN
“Maybe we won’t be rescued today after all.” My voice lifted with a hopeful tone. I stepped closer to the bridge and slipped in the mud, falling flat on my butt. That’s me, graceful to the end.
Nash chuckled and reached for my hand. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I said, spitting out dirt from my mouth. I took his hand and gave it a yank with all my might, pulling him into the mud right next to me.
“Hey, what’d you do that for?”
“Sometimes you have to take a chance and have a little fun. You know, life is short, and all that.” I reached into the water and flung a glob of mud at him, hitting him in the chest.
He tried to keep his face serious, but his eyes sparkled with laughter. “You did it now, woman. This is war.” He picked up a handful of mud and splattered it on the side of my head.
“Ah! I think you got it in my ear.” I tipped my head to the side to try to shake it out.
“That’s not the only place.” He ran his thumb across my mouth to wipe mud off my face.
We froze as our eyes met. The heat between us wasn’t cooled by the water we were sitting in, which could have been steaming for all I knew. Our lips found each other with an undeniable force.
I slid my hand up his neck and into his hair as our mouths glided together. Nash held my face in his hands, mud smearing between us. I faintly heard Munch barking in the distance, but my attention was completely on Nash. I would never get enough of this man. And after hearing him say he loved me, I was never letting him out of my sight. I would just weld myself to him like?—
“What the hell is going on here?”
Was that my brother bellowing? I didn’t care. Let him holler.
But Nash pushed away from me and jumped up so fast it seemed like he’d been stung. I landed flat on my back in the mud. Nash rushed off to talk to Rowan, who was standing on the other side of the river with his hands fisted on his hips.
“Hey, Rowan. What are you doing here?” Nash asked, as if to say what a nice surprise.
Huh. As if.
Rowan yelled. “I came to rescue you, you sniveling snake. But after what I just witnessed, you’re gonna need a different kind of rescue when I get over there.”
Nash’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. “You’re supposed to be in New York.”
“I’m just home for the week. Lucky for my sister that I am.” Rowan clenched and unclenched his fists. The tension in his jaw and the redness of his face were visible all the way across the river. “But you won’t be so lucky when I get a hold of you.”
“Hold on, man. It’s not what you think.”
“Are you telling me I didn’t just see you kissing my sister?”
“I, uh—” Nash stuttered. “We slipped and fell in the mud.”
My mouth dropped open. He had the perfect opportunity to tell Rowan we were in love and to mind his own business. But did he take it? No.
It was just like the last time. He would just pretend it never happened. And he would never tell Rowan the truth out of fear of his wrath.
Well, I wasn’t going to take it anymore. I was done.
Nash could jump in the river for all I cared.
I called Munch to come with me, and we ran back to the cabin. By the time I got there, my tears had dried, and were replaced by my usual anger. I gathered my belongings, hastily stuffing my bags and bin, and brought everything outside.
I’d find a way to get everything across the river today if I had to build a boat myself.
With all my stuff piled on the lawn, I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to drag all of it down the road to the bridge. And even if I did manage it, how would I get it across without getting any of it wet? It was a lot to carry, and I didn’t want to make two trips or have Nash help. No way.
I could have just taken what I absolutely needed and got the rest later. But, as irrational as it might have seemed, I didn’t want to leave any part of me behind. Not my belongings, and certainly not my heart.
The garage must have something I could use. I pushed open the door to find it filled with treasures. Old furniture. A lawnmower. A canoe. Inner tubes. A bicycle. Sleds.
Surely something there could transport my belongings down the road. The canoe would have been great if it weren’t so far to the bridge. I’d never be able to carry or drag a canoe full of stuff all that way. The sled or the inner tube would probably be my best options.
The sled would hold it all and had a rope I could pull.
The inner tube did as well but would also float. I might be able to use that to get everything across the river. As long as it didn’t fall through the hole in the middle, I’d be home free.
A combination of both was the winning strategy. I wedged the bin into the center of the tube, then piled the rest of the stuff onto the sled. I pulled both ropes as I trudged down the muddy driveway.
“Come on, Munch. Let’s go home.”
When I got to the bridge, my dad stood next to Rowan on the other side of the bridge, brainstorming what to do. Nash stood on this side of the bank, hands tucked in his pockets and shoulders sagging.
I focused on my rescuers on the other side of the river.
Dad grinned brightly. “Hey. There’s my little problem solver. We’ve been talking through some strategies, and here you have it all figured out.”
“Hi, Dad. Do you happen to have another rope you can toss over? I was thinking, if we each have a rope, we can pull everything back and forth across the water with the inner tube. It’ll take several trips, but I think it’ll work.”
My smarty-pants brother hollered, “Or you could just jump in and swim over, since you’re already full of mud.”
My intense glower told him I was a woman on the edge, and not to be messed with, which shut him right up.
Dad called out, “Brilliant plan, Raven. I have a rope in my truck. But are you sure you need all this stuff now? You could just?—”
I held my hand up to stop him, knowing exactly what he was going to say. “Nope. I’m taking all this now. Don’t bother arguing with me, Dad. I’m not in the mood.”
He gave a short nod and retrieved his rope. He tied a stick to the end of it to give it weight. Keeping hold of one end, he tossed the stick across the stream, where it landed next to me. I tied the rope around the tube, wedged the bin into the center tightly, and made sure the lid was secure.
I paused a moment before placing Gladys’ painting on top of the bin. It was a risky move. If it fell off, it would be ruined. Since it was still wet, I couldn’t tie it down or set anything on top of it. All I could do was pray it would make it across safely.
“Hey, Tweet. Why don’t you leave the painting here with me, and I’ll bring it to you in a couple of days? I’ll keep it safe. I promise.” Nash took a step toward me, but stopped as if he’d reached an invisible forcefield and could go no further.
I leveled him with my most lethal glare. “As if. And don’t call me that.” I returned my focus to securing my treasures. “Okay, Dad. Pull it over. Nice and easy. Don’t let that painting fall.” The inner tube slowly glided over to the other side of the bridge. I held my breath until it reached the bank. Rowan lifted it out, and I called out to him, “Rowan, set the bin aside but don’t touch the painting. It’s still wet. Then toss the tube in the water again, and I’ll pull it back.”
A few more trips, one almost upset by a muskrat, and my belongings were safely on the other side. Nash tried to help twice, and I would have ignored him had his advice not been sound. Unfortunately, common sense won out over the silent treatment sometimes.
Then it was time for me and Munch to go across. “Come on, Munch. Let’s go for a ride.”
I sat down on the inner tube with my butt in the hole. I slapped my lap to coax Munch to join me. He was hesitant to come on, but I didn’t know if he would swim where we wanted him to go if he was on his own. The current was pretty strong, too.
“Come on Munch. Let’s go get some lunch.”
His tail was wagging, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to do this. Nash picked him up and set him in my lap.
“Got him?” he asked.
“Yeah.” My arms were wrapped around Munch, not allowing him to move an inch. My gaze focused on my rescuers on the other side. My salvation.
“Hey, Tweet.”
I looked up at Nash, and the sadness and heartbreak I saw on his face mirrored my own.
“I’m sorry,” was all he said.
“I’m actively practicing the art of not caring right now.” I held my head high as I turned away then gave Munch an extra tight squeeze, trying to keep my tears at bay, at least until I got home.
I nodded to my dad. “Pull us across.”
Munch sat pretty still most of the way, but I could tell he wanted to jump out and swim. I held him tight and managed to keep him in the tube with me. The span of that little river felt like miles as it separated me from Nash.
And separated me from the best days of my life.