The Reluctant Bride (14 page)

Cabin Bear-3

Margot huddled on her cabin's porch roof, peering through the binoculars, keeping track of Max's progress. Margot had lost the fight to go after Max when water had started streaming into the cabin. She'd let Cory and Anita help her onto the roof with a minimum of gear. Margot vaguely remembered experiencing a panic attack until Cory had found the binoculars, spotted Max and shoved them into her hands.

“Keep watching him,” Cory had said. “He'll find the others, so don't lose sight.” Margot now held the binoculars so tightly her fingers were white, the bright blue of Max's floating five-gallon water jug easy to track. Cory and Anita remained below to remove the front cabin door from the hinges.

“Just in case we need a makeshift raft,” Cory murmured. He reached for the multipurpose knife he always carried in his pocket and flipped out the small screwdriver blade.

“You sure the door will float?” Anita asked as Cory wedged the blade into the upper pins of the door's three hinges.

“It's pine, and it's painted,” Cory said. “It'll float.”

He wiggled, pounded, then pulled the highest pin free
and tossed it. Next he lined up the screwdriver blade in the thin gap between the door and the middle hinge pin.

“Will it float with three people and packs, too? Should we lighten them?” Anita asked.

“We might have to leave them here, but we need to get this door free and secured first.” The middle pin popped up and out. Anita held the door handle.

“One more.”

Anita stabilized the door. Cory squatted, water on the porch lapping at his ankles. The pin suddenly released, and despite Anita's grasp, the door arced toward the window, its pointed corner shattering glass.

Anita jumped at the sound. “It's broken.”

“They can take it out of my taxes,” Cory said without missing a beat as he joined Anita and pulled the door free of the window frame.

“Watch out, I'm letting it fall,” Cory warned.

The door floated easily in the rising water. He unscrewed the doorknob and totally removed it, then slipped off his belt and buckled the leather in a loop through the doorknob hole. By now the water on the porch was up to his knees. Other rooftop inhabitants across the trail watched the proceedings, but stayed where they were. Cory concentrated on his task.

“Anita, go on the roof. I need your belt. Yours, too, Margot.” Cory locked his fingers together to make a step for Anita's foot. “Up you go.”

“That door's not going to hold all the packs,” Margot said from atop the porch roof. The door, while buoyant, was thin, not the thicker width used in snow country. She slid her belt out from her pant loops.

“No, but it'll hold us. Here, take the end while I climb up.” Cory passed Anita the three belts. He'd rebuckled all three loops through the knob so they'd have individual
handles if they had to abandon the roof. Cory sprang upward off the railing and joined the other two on the cabin roof. The door floated on the water below.

“Toss me the belt,” he said to Anita. “I'll hold it now.”

She did. “Cory…”

“Hmm?”

“I can't swim.”

Cory froze. Even Margot lowered the binoculars.

“That's not funny, Anita.”

“I know. My parents don't swim, either. That's why I've never gone rafting with you before.”

Cory stared. “Why didn't you ever tell me? I'm your husband. I could have taught you.”

“I should have, but it never came up,” Anita said in a shaky voice.

“Doesn't matter.” Cory took her cold hand. “I can swim for both of us.”

Raft docks

K
ARINNE HAD BEEN
half swimming, half wading to the dock, until only a final section of deep water separated her from the raft. She'd kept to the higher land and was almost there. Gauging the distance between her present location and the dock, she could see the bright yellow of the raft through the rain. Although the dock itself was barely visible, it wasn't underwater yet. Already the water was up to her hips, and the closer she got to the Colorado, the more she worried.

Let Jon be okay until I get back…
And the rest of them… Max, Cory, Anita, her mother. Karinne slipped, losing her footing. She couldn't pick herself up; she had to swim. At any other time she'd feel confident swimming the short distance, but this was no gentle lake. The floodwaters tugged
on the raft like a wild thing, yanking at the line as the river rushed by. From her position she could see that some canoes had overturned, and a small trolling motor rowboat was swamped. The larger, more powerful ranger boat was gone.

If she angled her swim and tacked diagonally, she'd have a better chance of success. But her jeans were deflating. Karinne reinflated them. She tucked a jean leg under each arm, praying her makeshift life preserver would last. She didn't waste her energy trying to escape the current. She concentrated on keeping her angle true to the dock.

She floated and kicked closer, but started drifting off course. Her inflated pants were leaking air again. Then the shoreline current ripped away her sagging jeans. Karinne didn't panic. She straightened her body into a modified crawl, using her legs to kick. She was maybe an Olympic-pool length away. If she focused on her breathing and conserved her strength, she should reach the dock.

As soon as she did, Karinne pushed wet hair off her face and pulled herself into the raft. As she threw herself over the side, the last of her buttons popped. Her shirt gaped open. She didn't notice. All she could do was lie on the raft floor, panting for breath. The raft bobbed and jerked, its figure-eight line secured to the two-pronged dock cleat. Max usually started the boat and Cory would toss the line free from the dock and hop in. But mounted engines had a safety cut-off, a dead man's switch. If she started it and released the tiller to undo the line, the engine would automatically stop. If she released the line before the engine started, the raft could get sucked into the Colorado instead of toward the cabins.

What to do?

Engine first, line second,
she decided. The wind tore at her clothes. Karinne took off her boots and dropped her
jeans, her swimsuit covered by her shirt. She crawled on her hands and knees toward the engine mount in the bouncing raft.

I'll fire it up. How hard can it be?
She'd never piloted before, but this wasn't exactly an aircraft carrier. She'd always been observant.

I'm a photographer, for heaven's sake!
She'd watched Max and Cory start the engine all week—a simple two-stroke with a pull ignition.

It's like starting a lawn mower.
She mentally reviewed the speed indicator guide on the tiller. The controller grip on the outboard twisted clockwise and counterclockwise for greater or lesser speeds.

She spotted the pull-cord ignition. She kept one arm on the raft rope, and yanked with the other. Her efforts were laughable. She couldn't even pull out the full length of the cord. The boat moved with her momentum, not the cord.

Gotta brace myself, then pull.
She did, placing her bare feet against the inflatable sides, facing the engine, then pulled the rope again, using both hands. The engine putt-putted once and stopped.

Be patient. Come on, start!

This time she smelled gas. She hadn't yet pulled the cord its full length.

I flooded the engine.

Karinne released the ignition pull, salvaged the spare binoculars and threw the strap over her neck. She put on a life jacket and retrieved the bail bucket, then began bailing water out of the raft, panting from exertion and fear.

How long do I have to wait?
If she tried too soon, she'd flood the engine more. And if she hesitated too long, the people waiting for her at the cabins could drown.

Karinne reached for the pull-start line, braced her feet
again and yanked with every ounce of strength she had, ripping the cord from the engine casing.

Lightning cracked high above, echoing through the canyon walls, its flash illuminating the pull cord—disconnected from the engine—dangling like a dead rattlesnake in her hand. The dead man's switch had killed all power.

Karinne stared at the useless ignition cord and the docked line, then screamed in pure rage.

This is truly the vacation from hell!

Cabin Bear-3

T
HERE, ON THE CABIN
roof, near the chimney, the three adults silently waited and watched the water rise. As it rapidly flooded over the porch roof and crept toward the cabin roof's apex, Cory pulled Anita and Margot higher. All three held on to the belts connecting them to their door raft. Binoculars hanging from her neck, Margot swallowed hard as the water crept closer. There wasn't much of the roof above water. She'd lost sight of Max long ago.

“Okay, ladies,” Cory announced. “All aboard that's going aboard.”

Anita's eyes were wide and round, Margot's hands shook, but Cory didn't hesitate. He maneuvered the door so he lay belly-down in the middle, the top and bottom of the door like wings on either side, the doorknob hole above his head. He helped Anita lower herself to his right as Margot took the left.

“Hold on tight, and keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times,” Cory joked. “It's going to be a bumpy ride.”

The water rose higher, taking the door out and away from the submerged cabin, leaving only the roof ridge and the top of the chimney behind. The water churned and
roiled with debris as it continued to rise. Steering proved impossible, and cottonwood tops loomed dangerously above the water.

“Everyone, kick harder!” Cory yelled to Margot, one arm around Anita, the other holding his strap.

“I am kicking!” Margot yelled back.

“We're gonna hit the tree!” Anita said.

Seconds later the door jammed among the higher branches of a tall cottonwood, and wedged in tight. The wood, parallel to the waterline, didn't budge.

Anita shivered. “At least we aren't drifting anymore.”

“Now what?” Margot asked.

“Sit up, heads above the water. Grab a branch and don't let go,” he warned Anita as he gave her a helpful push so she could sit. Her legs dangled directly in the water.

“We're stuck, aren't we?” Margot said.

“Thanks for pointing that out, Mrs. C,” Cory replied with more than a little sarcasm as he rubbed his hands up and down Anita's arms. “You still have the binocs?”

Margot immediately swung the binoculars up from her neck to her eyes.

“Can you see anyone?” Anita asked, her teeth chattering.

“No, we're too low,” Margot said.

“We're higher than the cabins,” Cory said. “We can climb even higher if we have to. And the lower branches should protect us from debris.”

The three of them silently studied the chimneys of the cabins, the only structural features still visible above water. Cory actually stood on the door.

“Give me those binoculars,” he said. “Maybe I can see something standing up.”

“I'll do it.” Margot got up to stand on the door her
self, the rain running into the furrows on her forehead and around the rubber eyepieces.

“Stop moving the door, Margot!” Anita pleaded. “Sit d—”

Anita never finished her sentence. The water surged, shaking the tree and the door. Margot lost her grip and splashed into the water, while Cory and Anita remained on the door. Margot didn't surface.

“Margot!” Anita yelled.

“Where'd she go?” Cory searched frantically amid the branches. He shoved his belt loop into Anita's hand.

“I don't know! I didn't see!”

Anita pointed to the far end of the door. “Over there!”

Cory released Anita, wrapped his fingers around the tree branches, then pulled his body down and deliberately submerged himself in the dark waters.

Cabin Fox-5

Max finally reached Karinne's cabin. He was agonizingly cold, but his progress had been rapid enough with the current. The water rose ever higher, tearing off the porches and roofs in big chunks that immediately sank, or smaller pieces that floated in the water. He wondered how much time he had before the cabins themselves collapsed under the weight of the water. The five-gallon jug was effective as a float, but it wouldn't protect him from floating debris.

Before Max's gaze focused on the child, Jon yelled out his name.

“Jon? You okay?” Max yelled back.

“Yes!”

Carefully avoiding floating branches, Max kicked over to the ridgepole where the boy stood. Even the cabin's rock-and-cement chimney had begun to crumble, leaving a jagged outline at the waterline. The ridgepole would soon be submerged, as well. Jon hugged the chimney tightly, his jeans floating limply around his waist.

“Where's Karinne?” Max asked, the air against his soaked body feeling even colder than the water.

“She went for the raft.”

The chill spreading through his body had nothing to do with the temperature. “When?”

“A while ago. When the water was lower. I hope she's okay. Are you going out there?”

“No. I can't make the dock in this current.”

The whole foundation of the cabin beneath them shook. Jon grabbed at the chimney, but it fell away in pieces. Max clutched Jon's arm just as the upper half of the chimney swayed. They both scooted to the opposite side of the roof and Jon's pants sank with the chimney rocks.

“My jeans!” Jon gasped. He started to move toward the chimney, but Max reeled him back.

“Here,” Max said. He shoved the water jug's plastic handle toward Jon. “Use this.”

As he took it, Jon studied Max, who wore hiking shorts and a T-shirt.

“What about you?”

“I'll tread water until I find something else.” Max anchored his bare feet against the submerged cabin roof shingles.

“There isn't anything,” Jon said.

“Then we'll wait for something to float by—the raft, if we're lucky. With Karinne on it.”

“What if she's late?”

“We'll tag-team.”

“What?”

“Take turns floating and treading water. You float first. Then we switch.”

“No, you first. You're tired,” Jon said.

“Stop arguing, kid.”

The whole cabin suddenly swayed beneath them.

“You hold the float. I'll swim. Now!” Max said.

That was when the cabin beneath them collapsed and burst apart in the water.

The top bar of the porch ripped through the water. It whipped hard against Jon's leg, hitting with a force that would've shattered bone had the water not cushioned the impact. Jon gasped in pain, and swallowed a mouthful of water as the blow separated him from Max—and from the buoy. Max didn't see the injury, but immediately threw one arm across the boy's chest and held Jon's head high; as he did, he reached for and regained the floating container.

Max tread water, desperately keeping Jon's head above the water as the boy choked for breath. Jon had both arms on the float, and only one leg to kick with.

“Are you okay?”

“My leg hurts,” Jon gasped.

“Can you move it?”

“Some.”

There was no way they could take turns treading water now. Max held on to the jug handle to keep Jon from being swept away. The two of them, human cargo, awkwardly bobbed and drifted amid the wreckage with other desperate campers.

Karinne, where are you?

 

C
ORY FOLLOWED
the tree, going down legs first, his eyes useless in the clay-filled water. Holding his breath, he used his feet like feelers, probing in all directions while hugging the tree with his arms. He found nothing and was forced to surface for air. He looked for Anita, who was still on the door. He heard her calling Margot's name as he ducked under again. Margot couldn't have floated away; she'd fallen up-current, so the underwater branches of the tree should have snagged her.

He felt a line stretch taut across his foot.
The binocular strap!
Cory didn't resurface, afraid he wouldn't be able to pinpoint the location again. Still submerged, he released
the tree, spun head down into the water and followed the strap a little farther, his hand ending up at Margot's head. He pushed her hard, his lungs bursting as he sprang upward off the branches, straining—afraid he wouldn't make the surface with her, afraid to surface without her. Suddenly, Margot broke free, and Cory shot upward, Margot floating with him.

Before her head cleared the water, Anita reached for Cory and pulled the two of them toward her.

“She's not breathing.” Cory started coughing, his lungs searing with pain as he took in fresh air. Anita dragged him onto the door, then began resuscitation procedures on Margot while Cory collapsed faceup, hyperventilating and praying Anita could breathe life back into Margot.

 

K
ARINNE GROANED
with effort as she lifted the small but heavy trolling motor and battery from the tiny rowboat and dumped it on the dock. She managed to drop Max's larger gas motor from its mounts. She didn't even try to save it. The engine sank quickly, resting beneath the dock on the bed of dark red clay. Then she scrambled back onto the dock, manhandled the rowboat's electric motor and battery onto Max's raft and used the hand clamps to reposition it.

The motor looked pitifully small compared to the one she'd scuttled, but it was all she could lift. At least the electric motor turned on with a switch, no keys or pull start required.

Karinne flipped the switch. Nothing. She primed the engine once and cautiously tried again.
Success!
As long as the marine battery had enough juice, she was in business.

Karinne tossed off the line and motored the raft away from the dock. The craft handled clumsily as she oversteered with the troller. She felt like an inexperienced young teen behind the wheel of a car for the very first time—and
on a speeding highway with no helpful instructor beside her. Despite her ignorance of boating, the chill of the water and, most of all, her fear for the others, she appreciated the power of nature at its rawest. She thought of Powell, who'd had only one arm to steer with. If he could do it, she could, too—at least long enough to get to Max.

But Powell had navigational skills. Karinne had none. As she came within view of what had once been the cabins, her heart sank. Her only landmarks were half-destroyed chimney tops and the tops of partially submerged cottonwoods. She had to find the others.

Where do I start looking?

 

C
ORY WORKED
on chest compressions as Anita continued to breathe into the unconscious woman's mouth.

“She's not breathing yet!”

“Switch!” he ordered. He cleaned out Margot's mouth and nose a second time and pushed hard breaths into the woman's lungs.

“I've got a pulse,” Anita said thankfully.

Cory couldn't celebrate. Margot remained unconscious, eyes closed. She finally coughed and started breathing on her own, but she was limp, not responding to her name.

“Roll her on her side,” Anita said. “I'll dry her off.”

Cory unbuttoned his shirt. Anita balled it up and wrung it out to sponge off Margot's face.

“She still breathing okay?” Cory asked. “How's her pulse?”

“Good, but I wish she'd wake up,” Anita said. “We're down to one swimmer now—you. Where's Max? Do you think he made it to the raft?”

“I don't know.” Cory took his shirt back, but didn't have the energy to put it on. “He'd better show up soon. We're running out of time.”

 

T
HE RAIN ENDED
monsoon-style—just as abruptly as it had started, with almost no transitional phase from pouring to stopping. The light was improved, too, as Karinne piloted the raft among the remains of cottonwood trees and chimneys. Unfortunately, the floodwaters didn't disappear as quickly as they'd risen. That could take days.

“Anyone there?” she yelled again and again. Her throat ached from overuse, but she kept yelling the question, calling out names. Her voice cracked, temporarily gone. She brought her fingers to her lips and whistled….

And, incredibly, she heard a responding whistle.

“Max?” she shouted.

“Karinne!” a voice shouted back. “It's Cory!”

Karinne spotted him. He waved a shirt in the air. “Over here!” It
was
Cory. And Anita. And…who else? Karinne wasn't close enough to see, nor could she maneuver over to the trees.

“Stay put.” Cory jumped into the water and swam toward the raft, replacing Karinne at the tiller. He took the raft much closer, close enough for Karinne to see Anita, and her mother's motionless body.

“What happened?” Karinne asked, her heart in her throat. “What's wrong with Mom? Where's Max?”

“Max went after Jon. Margot went under,” Cory said.

“She's not—”

“She's breathing, but still out of it. It'll take both of us to load her into the raft,” Cory said.

“Anita, you okay?” Karinne studied Anita frantically.

“I'm fine.”

“Except my wife can't swim.”

“What?”

“It's true,” Anita said.

“I've got life jackets.” Karinne grabbed two and rolled overboard with them.

Cory edged the raft a little nearer. “I can't get any closer—not with this motor. Where's ours?”

“Broken,” Karinne said, reaching the door. She gasped aloud, shocked at the sight of her mother's limp body. Karinne passed Anita a life jacket.

“Cory pulled her out of the water. She wasn't breathing when he brought her up,” Anita said bluntly. “Oh, God.”

Anita helped Karinne put a life jacket on Margot.

“It's okay, Mom,” Karinne said to the unmoving figure. “We're getting out of here.”

Soon the three women were in the raft. Karinne held Margot, her mother's head motionless on her lap.

“Give me a paddle,” Anita told Cory.

Cory tossed her one from the bottom of the boat.

“We're making progress,” he said encouragingly.

“Two more passengers and we're home free,” Anita added.

Karinne settled her mother more carefully in her lap and reached for the other paddle. “We aren't there yet. We have to find Jon and Max.”

 

M
AX KEPT HIS ARMS
linked under Jon's arms, the boy's back against Max's chest. Max's muscles were cramped with the cold. He suspected the water had long since siphoned away much of Jon's body heat, as it had his. The boy's leg had to be throbbing from its lashing by the rail, and his strength was fading. Max's own energy was severely taxed. He'd let the water take them where it wanted, conserving his strength, kicking only when dangerous flotsam threatened them.

“You okay?” he asked Jon, repeating the conversation
they'd been having for the past hour, both of them saying the same words. “How's your leg?”

“Fine. Where's the raft?”

“Maybe in another ten minutes.”

This time, Jon's response varied from the script.

“You said that before…” His weak voice sounded impatient. “Check your watch.”

Max carefully angled his wrist. The digital dial had gone blank. “It's broken.”

“Why didn't you buy a waterproof one?”

“I did,” Max said ruefully. “I guess it just died.”

“Are
we
gonna die?”

“No.”

“Is anyone gonna find us?” Jon asked. His voice trembled, not from cold or pain, but from fear.

“They'll be here soon.”

“Are you sure?”

Max cuddled the boy closer. Jon's limbs felt stiff, wooden. So did his. “We just have to wait a few more minutes.”

“I wish I had a cell phone.” Jon sighed.

“Won't work here. They don't make waterproof ones, anyway, do they?”

“They do, too! Go online and look.”

“Tell you what,” Max promised. “When we get out of here, I'll buy you a cell phone. Waterproof.”

“Mom won't let you.”

“Yes, she will. I'm an old friend of Karinne's. I'm practically family.”

“Then
you
ask Mom,” Jon said.

“I will…when we see her.”

“Soon.”

Max managed to smile, despite failing strength and the taste of dirty water. “Soon,” he agreed.

 

K
ARINNE CONTINUED
to steer, her eyes scanning the waters. She couldn't lose Max. He was her heart, her soul, her life. Somehow she'd repair the rift between them—but first, she had to find him. And Jon, the brother she'd never known. She couldn't lose him. She'd just found him.

“Where can he be?” Anita asked anxiously.

“There!” Cory sang out. “I see them! Max!”

Cory directed the raft toward them as Karinne and Anita stowed their paddles. Max shoved Jon toward the waiting arms above him. He was numb from the cold. He couldn't feel his fingers as he pushed Jon upward into the raft. Anita and Margot, who'd regained consciousness, took the boy as Cory and Karinne carefully pulled Max in without swamping the craft. Cory dropped the tiller to help, but Karinne reached Max first.

 

H
E FELT HER ARMS
around him as he was half pulled, half rolled over the edge of the raft. He fell into Karinne's lap—limp, spent, eyes closed against the muck. Karinne tenderly wiped his face with gentle fingers. He'd never felt so tired. He'd never felt so good, either.

The others in the boat shot out rapid-fire questions about Max's and Jon's welfare. Max couldn't make sense of any of the words, but even with his eyes shut, he registered Karinne's soft voice. She was the one person not shouting his name over and over, Cory loudest of all, but only Karinne's presence registered.