Chapter Four
Will
When is it?
The fishing trip several of my friends from Chained had planned was going to happen when I had already planned to be off work.
All my worries about sitting alone in the house or going to work when I needed to be recreating, went out the window.
Bridger had apologized for asking so late, but they’d realized they had one more room than they needed.
I know you never take any time off, but everyone needs a break. Doctor’s orders.
You’re a designer, not a doctor.
Then order it yourself.
Of course I was going. Although I had one brief moment’s doubt when I realized everyone else would be couples. My friends were bringing their littles, but I wasn’t going to let that stop me. I’d known them for years, daddies and littles, and they would never make me feel left out.
I hadn’t been fishing since my own father took me as a kid, and the idea not only made me nostalgic but hungry.
When Dad and I went to Lake Rainbow, we had always eaten only what we caught…
Or at least that was our plan, one that somehow never happened, and he always came up with cans of bean or something so we didn’t go hungry.
We were lousy fishermen, but we had the best time sitting in a boat all day, with our lines in the water, just talking and being together.
I didn’t get to see him as often as I liked since he retired and moved to Florida, but every time I thought of him, I pictured him out there, shirtless, sunburned shoulders, and his wide, happy grin.
At the time, I thought he just loved fishing, even though we almost never caught anything and certainly never anything big enough to keep.
But since then, I’d realized that it wasn’t just that.
He liked sitting in that boat with me. It was the highlight of both of our years.
Driving up to the lake the night before, I’d remembered all the fun of those trips and wondered if this might be the year I actually caught a fish to eat.
But it didn’t really matter. Like those long-ago trips, the whole pleasure would be spending time with people I liked, people I had things in common with.
I arrived to find the whole house ablaze with light, the reflection shimmering on the water.
The daddies and littles were out on the deck grilling steaks, their laughter carrying to me and making me so glad I’d come.
A few hours later, I lay in bed, drifting off to sleep to the sounds of nature: the wind soughing in the branches of the pine trees around the cabin, an owl hooting, the splash of fish in the lake.
Fish!
Could this be the year I caught something?
Dad would be proud. He’d been trying to get me to fly down and go out on a deep-sea boat for ages.
My dreams were filled with smooth casts and a boat filling with fish just like the one in the pictures Bridger sent to me.
Maybe my father and I could plan a trip to add catching fish to the good memories of hanging out together.
Big fish…
Although I often didn’t sleep well the first night in a new bed, the next time I opened my eyes, rays of sunlight striped the comforter.
Birdsong so loud I couldn’t believe I’d slept through it accompanied me as I padded into the bathroom.
Dad always swore you had to get out on the water before sunrise, so I hoped I hadn’t ruined my chances of sneaking up on the fish.
Then, toweling off after a quick shower, it occurred to me that my beloved pater’s plan had not worked out all that well and maybe I could try a different schedule.
Or maybe…just goof around and enjoy the day with no real agenda.
But first, breakfast. I arrived in the common area to find the daddies and their littles having breakfast. While the littles weren’t fully in little mode—as in no short-shorts or onesies and they were not speaking in a little way—they were having sugar cereals eaten out of those boxes you could cut open and pour milk into and sharing with their stuffies.
The daddies were bustling around, making French toasts and plans for the day. Very much couples’ plans, and while I knew they would gladly include me, I felt a bit like a third wheel.
“Here.” Bridger plopped a trio of golden triangles on a plate in front of me, along with a mug of dark, steaming coffee. “How did you sleep and do you want bacon?”
“Great and of course.” I didn’t want to be in the way, but leaving without eating sounded pretty rude. Also…bacon!
“Quite a storm last night, wasn’t it?” Summit asked, filling a plate for his little. “Rowan and some of the others were so upset, we came out here and made cocoa and sat around together, reading a story, until things settled down.”
“Everyone okay now?” And how had I slept through a big storm like that? I was more exhausted than I realized.
Fortified with a delicious breakfast and armed with a filled water bottle, I decided on a walk along the lakeshore.
I’d come back and catch up with the others in a couple of hours for some fishing.
Boats bobbed out in the middle, some with fishermen, but I didn’t see anyone catching one of the gigantic lake trout or bass…
or whatever they were. That could be timing or just that the promotional materials were slightly optimistic… or even fraudulent.
But…it was a freaking gorgeous day. I was outside surrounded by pine and fresh water and all the beauty of nature.
The circumference of the lake looked as if it would be manageable, so I decided to make that my goal.
Worst case, I got tired and turned back.
But unlike any other day, none of my decisions were going to affect anyone’s health but mine.
Whistling, I started off around the blue water, enjoying the sights and sounds, breathing deeply, and wondering why it took me so long to take this time for myself.
After about fifteen minutes, my steps flagged.
There was no real pathway all along the shore, and I kept having to walk up the bank to get around obstacles and then return to fight my way through a patch of brush.
Quite strenuous at points, and I was very close to turning back when I spotted something caught on a branch extending over the water.
A boat?
I took off my hiking boots and worked my way to the little vessel.
It was old and nothing fancy but certainly not discarded.
A frayed rope twisted around the branch made it seem as if it had broken free from a dock rather than someone falling overboard.
I thought I’d leave it and see if I could report it to someone official, but then I spotted a piece of paper flapping in the bottom of the boat.
If it had information on it, I could try to find the owner?
It was probably only trash, but it was worth a shot.
If I lost my little boat, I’d be very sad.
A place in the middle where there had once been a mast was just a sad little fixture.
A former sailboat. Full of family memories. Or I was overthinking.
Either way, I splashed out to it and reached in to find exactly what I needed.
Hopefully. An old electric bill, yellowed and torn.
Why would it be in a boat? I had no idea, but it did have an address, and based on the address for our cabin, it should be a little ways down the beach.
Untangling the rope, I threw out the idea of towing it.
My experience with the shore so far told me it would not go well.
So instead, I tossed my shoes in and scrambled over the side.
There were oars. Which was lucky because I had not checked before freeing the little craft, and all the time with Dad in boats that often did not have motors, had me paddling with confidence.
But, being out of practice, by the time I came to a house with a small dock in front of it, my arms were aching. The rest of the rope was still present, and I tied the end still on the boat up and climbed onto the dock.
Taking the path to the house, I hoped I’d found the owner and that maybe they could give me a ride home. But nothing prepared me for the guy who opened the door, his bedhead the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. But the shadows under his eyes were not adorable at all.