Читать книгу Wilderness Reunion - Elizabeth Goddard - Страница 15

FIVE

They headed east traveling around the wilderness region to their entry point at Grave Creek. The road twisted and turned as they drove through the mountains on the north side of the Rogue River at what felt like a snail’s pace, inching around every bend in the sometimes one-lane road until they came to a four-wheel drive emergency road. This would get them to the lodge with a boat ramp—and then they’d start the Wild and Scenic portion of the river.

Riding in the sheriff’s department SUV with Sheriff Kruse, Alice sat in the backseat, letting Griffin sit shotgun with his uncle. The two deputies followed in another vehicle crammed with the rest of the equipment and their supplies—food and water, extra clothes, limited weapons and ammo due to weight restrictions—all packed in waterproof gear bags, and the inflatable raft she’d guide using the bigger oars, and then the smaller paddles the others would use to assist. Rafts weren’t as agile as regular boats but were safer in the rapids. A drift boat would capsize too easily.

Alice still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

She’d agreed to do this. She’d known she would, eventually, but Griffin had been the one—oddly enough—to talk her down. To help her see that she remained one of the best guides on the Rogue River. Not that having the best mattered to the sheriff’s department when she was immediately on hand and was also the one who knew where to lead them, where to guide them to the illegal operation.

Still, as Sheriff Kruse turned the sharp corner on the gravel road that led them closer to the boat ramp on the river, Alice wished she’d called her brothers to tell them everything that had happened. They would have come back and been there to once again overprotect her. It surprised her, too, that the sheriff hadn’t called Cooper himself. Maybe he knew her brother would never have agreed to let her go.

But Alice didn’t need the protection. She was a grown woman, experienced in what mattered here, the best at what she did. Certified as a wilderness first responder, CPR and swift water rescue, and she knew this river like the back of her hand. Loved every twist and turn, every pool, stream and waterfall as well as the history to go with it. Though terrified, a small thrill ran through her—she was actually getting back on the Rogue River.

She hated to admit it, but Griffin’s encouragement had meant a lot. Maybe even made the difference. She could almost wish he hadn’t disappeared from her life to begin with.

But he had.

End of story. She wouldn’t let herself fall for him now that she understood he wasn’t the right kind of person for her—something her brothers had seen all along. On the drive, he and Sheriff Kruse carried on a long conversation about Griffin’s exploits and world travels in his journalistic efforts to expose the wrongs in the world—which left her to herself.

Fine with her. The closer they got the more the doubts crept back in, despite her earlier courageous thoughts. She stared out the window and fought the nausea roiling in the pit of her stomach. Tried to compose herself and get her act together. Their lives depended on her.

I can do this.

When the vehicle stopped at Grave Creek near the boat ramp, the sheriff got out. Behind them, the deputies also climbed from their vehicle. But Alice remained where she sat. Griffin, too. A slight tremble started in her legs and quickly worked its way up to her arms and finally her lower lip. Griffin turned around to face her and reached between the captain seats. He slipped his hand over hers and squeezed. She looked up at him.

“You’re going to do fine, Alice.” He shot her that cute, disarming grin of his. “Remember, we’re not inexperienced at this. We’ve all been down the river before. It’s fun and games for most people out there. Keep your focus on the prize—taking these men down.” He gave her one last squeeze, then stepped from the vehicle.

She liked that he always knew when to give her space. Even though she didn’t fully trust him, at least he knew her that well. But it was easy for him to say the encouraging words. Far different for her to live them out. The thought of their mission sucked all her bravado away and could paralyze her if she let it.

Alice released a long exhale. “Showtime.”

They inflated the raft, loaded the packs and gear, food and water, their small stash of weapons and ammo, and Alice secured the paddles and most important the oars she would use to guide them. They geared up with helmets and life jackets to be safe.

God, please don’t let me panic. Please don’t let me seize up. Please let me guide the sheriff and his men to the guy I saw and his marijuana. Let us get in and out safely.

The raft positioned and anchored in the water, Alice stood on the bank. Wide and wild, the Rogue River rushed past her, and she breathed in the familiar smells of nature—a clear and pristine rushing river, the boulders and fish and musty loam. Memories, both bad and good, swirled around her, tumbled over her like she’d been caught in the rapids. She couldn’t stay caught in the maelstrom of the past.

Everyone looked to her—she was their guide, after all. Heart pounding, she gave the signal and they climbed onto the raft. Alice sat in her position at the back and gripped the oars.

Her pulse jumped.

With so much riding on her, she didn’t have time to be scared. That was good.

Alice focused her attention, running down her mental checklist.

Breathe in. Breathe out. And just keep going.

She worked the oars, easing the raft away from the bank and into the current, working her way, egressing out to the center of the river. Nothing bad usually happened in the middle. It was the riverbanks with the sweepers, logs and rocks that were the issue.

The river took hold of the raft, and she had the distinct impression she no longer had control over her life. But that wasn’t true. That was only her fear getting in the way. The river might fool others, but Alice knew how to tame the beast. She always had, and she let the thrill of being on the river again—after eight excruciatingly long months—wash away thoughts of the tragedy. When she spotted Griffin studying her, gauging her, she heard his silent question loud and clear.

Are you okay?

Did he truly care or was he only concerned for his own skin? The question of his sincerity aside, she couldn’t help it—she beamed at him, and in return he smiled back, admiration in his expression. Real appreciation. It warmed her heart more than she would like. She shouldn’t care if he admired her. But it seemed he’d never lost confidence in her. Too bad she had lost confidence in him. Still, she couldn’t think about any of that.

The river could make them or break them, and they still had so far to go even once they made their point of entry into the wilderness where they would hike out. If they missed that entry point somehow and went too far down the river, they’d have to travel to the end of the Wild and Scenic portion because there was no way they could simply hike out—too many canyon walls to climb.

They had one shot.

That’s another reason why the sheriff had insisted on Alice as his guide, she was sure of it. Unfortunately, their route meant taking them through Blossom Bar and the Picket Fence where she’d lost a man, but she reminded herself just how many times she’d done that before the accident. She’d won a medal in the Olympics, for crying out loud. She’d just keep building up her confidence. It wouldn’t do for her to dump the sheriff, two deputies and Griffin in the river, or end up with someone drowning again while Alice guided them.

Everyone appeared energetic and focused on the river and obtaining their goals as they entered the Mule Creek Canyon and hit Class III rapids at the entrance. She shouted out instructions so the men could use the extra paddles and assist in maneuvering the currents created from the rock walls on either side, and avoid the boils, then another Class III rapid within the canyon.

Once they were through the rapid, she should have been exhilarated but her palms grew sweaty as her anxiety increased.

Blossom Bar was next. She’d lost someone there...

Griffin shot her a glance. Nodded and gave her a thumbs-up, then palmed his paddles. She refused to release her oar but gave him a subtle nod in return. What choice did she have? They had to face the rapids like everyone else. Like she had, so many times in the past.

As they approached Blossom Bar, the roar of her pulse grew louder than the roar of the rapids. It was a churning Class IV rapid, not even as challenging as the Class V they’d yet to face. Boulders lined up on one side and could snag them. Those were called the Picket Fence. That’s where the problems could arise. People had died there.

Seven in one year. One on her watch.

If she could make this, just make this, she might be free of her terror forever. The men held on to their paddles to assist her, but she wasn’t sure she wanted their help. Might be easier to go this alone in case someone misunderstood which direction they needed to go and put them in the boil. She couldn’t see Sheriff Kruse’s eyes behind his sunglasses, but she had the distinct impression he watched her like a hawk even as he focused on the furious water around them.

She didn’t have time to worry as the rapids caught them up, splashing and soaking them where they sat in the raft. Alice worked her oars and avoided the rocks, guiding them through.

“It’s all good, Alice.” Griffin dug his paddle in. “We’re doing this.”

“We’re going to the left of the big boulders first, then we’ll have to make a quick right. We want the line of rocks called Picket Fence to our left. Everybody got that?”

The men focused on the river as she guided the raft through the rapids around the large boulders.

“Now! Right, keep to the right. We’re approaching Picket Fence. Need to catch that eddy before the rocks.” She shouted over the roar of the rapids, hoping the men would follow through or not paddle at all. The hole on the other side of the line of rocks could suck them in and never let them go.

When the raft rushed past the boulders of the Picket Fence, they all whooped and hollered as if they were tourists on the river for fun, which couldn’t have been further from the truth.

Still, Alice felt a measure of pure elation, and she wanted to share it with Griffin. Why, why, had her thoughts gone to him first?

Holding his paddle, Griffin pumped both his arms in the air. “You did it, Alice. I knew you could!”

She didn’t respond, but couldn’t hide her response when hearing his words made her smile even bigger. She continued to work the oars, preparing for the next set of rapids, Devil’s Staircase. After that, their stop—their point of entry into the wilderness—would be up ahead where the canyon opened up. The last rapid was minor compared to the deadly stretch she had just guided them through.

Then gunfire echoed through the canyon, bouncing off the walls. Her heart rate spiked. Alice jerked her gaze up, fear crawling over her. That hadn’t been meant for her, had it? Or for them as a group?

But she had no time to worry about that and quickly refocused on the approaching rapids and falls. Except she was the only one. The men stared up the walls of the canyon and moved from their positions. Sheriff Kruse had dropped his paddles and held his weapon out and ready.

“Focus, people! Hang on!” she called.

Another shot rang out.

Oh, God, please help us! How could this be happening?

The raft tilted and swirled as it carried them, tumbling over the rapids even as Deputy Edwards grabbed his arm and fell out of the raft and into the water. At the same moment, the raft’s balance shifted on the rapids, the white water lifted it on one end, dumping everyone into the river with Deputy Edwards.