White Water (15 page)

He flashed her an innocent look. “Out of what?”

She took off his hat and held it over the fire. “I told you my dreams, now it's your turn!” She dangled the hat by one finger, but kept her thumb on the brim for balance in case he made a grab for it.

“Okay, okay, give it back, please? See, I'm not too proud to beg.” She jiggled the hat again. “All right,” he groaned, “you win! I want to be a rancher with a wife and six kids and breed horses—Friesians, to be exact—and I want to grow old and sit on the porch in a rocking chair with my feet propped on the railing and my wife by my side.” He grinned and reached for his hat. “How's that for old-fashioned values?”

She let go of the hat, and he snatched it just before it hit the fire. “You don't believe me?”

He sounded so wounded that Kara finally relented. “Friesians? Are you serious?” Friesians were gorgeous horses, bred mostly for show. And they were huge—not to mention expensive.

He nodded. “Friesians. I've almost got enough cash saved for the first mare. Another two years and I should have the down payment on that twenty-acre parcel over by the Carlson's.”

Where do the wife and kids come in?
she wanted to ask. Instead she said, “That's neat, Colin, it really is.” She scrambled to her feet, hoping he would think the flush on her face was from the blazing campfire. “I'd better get to bed.” She tried to sound casual, but her voice squeaked when she said, “Good night.”

Away from the fire the air was cold, but inside she felt like she was running a fever. She scooted down into her sleeping bag, slipped off her jacket and shoes, and stuffed them into the bottom of the bag, where they would stay warm and dry until morning. She tried to think about something else, but images of herself and Colin clicked like snapshots through her mind: kneeling beside a newborn foal—riding double on a huge Friesian stallion—rocking together on a wide front porch. The last image almost made her laugh out loud. She pulled the edge of her sleeping bag over her head, leaving just her nose sticking out. It was nice to share your dreams with someone you cared for, and right now, she realized, she cared for Colin Jones a lot.

K
ARA AWOKE TO BRIGHT SUN
in an ice blue sky. She reached down into the sleeping bag for her jacket
and shoes, shook Tia and Ryan awake, then joined Colin by the fire, holding her hands over the dancing flames. Colin already had the coffee perking and a pan of water warming on the rocks. “No use roughing it any more than we have to.” He grinned and motioned to the water. “It should be warm enough. Ladies first.”

“Thanks!” She took the pan, shouldered her pack, and hustled a sleepy Tia ahead of her into the woods. Ten minutes later, she set the pan filled with clean river water over the fire. When it was warm enough, Colin took Ryan with him, while Kara boiled fresh water from one of the canteens in a smaller aluminum pan, then added instant oatmeal.

“Amazing how everything tastes better when you're camping.” Tia spooned up the last of her oatmeal. “I don't even like this stuff at home.”

Kara laughed. “Mom always said the fresh air makes you hungry. She loved to camp. We used to go up into the Three Sisters Wilderness for two weeks at a time in the summer, remember, Ryan?” He nodded, and she went on, lost in the memory. “We had this old canvas army tent—big enough for an army, too. And cold!” She shivered. “It was like sleeping in a cave.”

Colin grinned. “Give me a good sleeping bag and a bed of pine boughs any day!” He squeezed her shoulder and said to Ryan, “Come on, Partner, let's get your stuff together. If we're going to get that raft back on the water anytime soon, we have to break camp now.”

By the time Kara tugged Ryan's life vest over his jacket, the sun had reached ten o'clock high. “What have you got in there?” she asked as she struggled to fit the vest around Ryan's bulging pockets.

“Stuff!” He glared at her and clutched both jacket pockets as if to keep her from looking in. Not that it mattered. They were zipped closed.

Kara frowned. “Well, can't you put some of it in your backpack? This is so bulky, I can hardly get it fastened.”

He shook his head. “No! It's my survival kit. I might need it.”

Kara sighed and finally clicked the plastic buckle shut. “Fine with me, but don't complain if this is too tight. Going without it isn't an option.”

“Let's go,” Colin called, and everyone scrambled to the same seats they'd had the day before. Tia stayed quiet, and Kara could tell her friend was still sleepy. Ryan chattered and pointed out every bird and chipmunk in sight. Once they saw a deer drinking at the water's edge. It stared at them as they floated past, then lowered its head to drink again.

“Look, Kara, he's friendly.” Ryan watched until the deer was out of sight.

Kara smiled. “He doesn't see many people back in here, Ry. He hasn't learned to be afraid.”

She paddled with Colin until the main current picked up, carrying them smoothly downstream.

They'd been on the river for about half an hour when Kara felt the raft shift from a smooth glide to a bumpy rocking motion. Then she heard the sound of rushing water. “Shh, listen.” The sound reminded her of Tunnel Falls. She shivered as she always did when she remembered how Ryan nearly plunged over the edge the day they escaped from the fire.

Everyone in the boat stopped talking, and then Colin grinned. “White water!”

Kara laughed at the gleam in his eyes. “It's that stretch by Finn Rock. We saw it from the air,” she reminded him. “Mark said it wasn't bad if we stay to the left.”

Colin nodded. “Nothing on this river is above a class three. Still, I should row from the back so I can see where we're going. Help me turn the raft, Wakara.” Then he grinned again. “Sorry, hope you don't mind getting wet.”

She gave him what she hoped was the stern warning look her mother had always used on Greg.

“From what I saw, there's no reason for anyone to get wet, Colin Jones, as long as you behave!”

“Who, me?” He looked so wounded that for a second she felt badly for doubting him. Then, just before the raft swung around, she caught the spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Colin! What are you going to do?” She had to practically shout over the sound of rushing water as the boat picked up speed.

“Trust me, Wakara,” he shouted back. “I know what I'm doing.”

Kara knew she had to turn around and face the front. She needed to have her oars ready to push them away from the rocks. But first she had to be sure Ryan and Tia knew what to do. “Ryan,” she yelled, “put your backpack down and sit in the bottom of the boat. Tia, anchor your knee under the rim and hang on to him, please!”

“What's the big deal? I thought this was a no-brainer.” The look on Tia's face reminded Kara of a trapped rabbit, but she felt a rush of relief as both her friend and Ryan pushed aside their makeshift seats and scrambled to the bottom of the raft.

“Look to the right, Wakara,” Colin hollered as she turned around to face the rapids. “Short and sweet. Let's go for it!” She started to scream, “Colin, no!” But it was already too late
.

The front end of the raft dipped, then rose on the first wave. Kara paddled furiously, then realized that with her short arms the oar didn't quite reach the water. Before she could even blink, the nose of the raft plunged into a trough, and the current spun them sideways. The thunk of the oar hitting rock sent vibrations up her arm. They spun again, nose first, into a wall of white water. Colin was screaming something, but she couldn't make out the words over the roar of the waves. She saw the boulder coming at them for the second time and punched at it with the oar. The raft bounced back into the swirling current.

Whirlpool! A rush of fear made her body shudder as the raft spun around for the third time. Kara knew if they didn't get out of the spinning water soon, they'd be sucked under and drown. Again, the boulder loomed in front of her. This time she waited until the last minute, then shifted forward, shoved both oars against the rock, and pushed with all of her might.

The force knocked her backwards. One oar snapped, and Kara felt the plastic paddle whiz by her ear. Tia screamed, and Kara scrambled to her knees. For one sickening moment they hung suspended at the top of a wave, then, like a rock from a giant slingshot, the raft shot backwards out of the swirling water.

“My backpack!” Ryan's yell hit her like a stomach punch, and she watched in horror as the boy threw himself onto the side of the boat, arms stretched toward the backpack floating just out of reach. “Ryan, no!” she screamed. She lunged after him just as the current caught the raft and propelled them downstream.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion after that. Her body collided with Colin's as they both made a grab for Ryan's legs. Then the raft plunged once more into a short patch of white water, knocking her flat on her back. Again, she pushed to her knees. Just as the raft shot around a bend in the river, she caught a glimpse of orange bobbing in the water close to shore.

The current slowed, and the roar of waves was replaced by the slap of Colin's oars as he propelled them toward an inlet of calm water that lapped against an eroded bank. A sudden jolt and the raft stopped dead about five feet from shore.

“A tree! We're hung up on a tree!” Kara heard the sob in Colin's voice. Her brain registered the fear and frustration she saw on his face. She should tell him not to panic. Help him get the raft untangled. Get them all safely on shore. But she couldn't move.
Ryan
. Her little brother was no longer in the boat. She had to find him, but when she tried to move, her arms wouldn't cooperate. Her legs felt numb, and she felt as if her mind had been sucked into another whirlpool.

“Wakara! Tia's bleeding. She's unconscious. Come on, snap out of it, you've got to help me!”

Someone was shaking her. As she looked up into Colin's fear-twisted face, all she felt was a cold, steady anger. “Get your hands off me, Colin Jones.” She heard her own voice, like ice cracking in a drinking glass. Her mouth felt dry and tasted like wood shavings from Lily's stall. Her hands
felt clammy as she raised them to his chest and shoved him away.

Colin lost his balance and fell into Tia. Kara cringed as the girl howled like a banshee, then sat up holding her head. “Ooh. What happened? I feel like someone hit me with a brick.”

“Let me look.” Colin peeled Tia's hands away, and Kara could see a thin, red line running from the girl's hairline to the bridge of her nose. The cut was still seeping blood, and Kara moved forward for a closer look. “It's not deep.” She grabbed her backpack, dug out the first aid kit, and thrust it at Colin. “Take care of her. I've got to get Ryan!”

As she pushed to her feet, the raft rocked violently, causing Tia to squeal, but it didn't turn over or float free. It took Kara only a moment to see they were caught in a tangle of twisted branches from a fallen tree. She scanned the area for another way out. She could easily swim the five feet or so to shore, but the riverbank was high and so eroded there were no handholds to help her climb.

Fear, sharp as an eagle's beak, ripped through her as she realized they were trapped. But the vision of a bright orange life jacket bobbing in the river sent her up onto the edge of the raft. How long had Ryan been in the water? Had the current washed him into shore, or onto the rocks? Whatever, she had to get to him, and fast!

K
ARA CLAWED THROUGH THE
tangled branches until her hands closed around the slim trunk of the fallen tree. She shook it hard, then, when it didn't break away from the bank, she shook it harder. Still, it held. She crouched, then willed her legs to act like springs as she hurtled herself into the center of the tree. Heart pounding, she straddled the trunk for a few seconds to catch her breath. Colin was yelling something about being careful, but she wasn't interested in anything he had to say. Ryan was in trouble, and they'd already wasted enough time
.