But spend the day alone with Joe? The thought caused nervous ripples to stream up her spine. His smile was charming, his laughter intoxicating. Too much time with him might get addictive and distractive.
She tied her shoes, then flew down the stairs. “Liza!”she called from the landing. Trotting through the kitchen, she popped out the back door. Rip almost took her head off with an exuberant bounce toward her. Mona recoiled, then stepped out and crouched beside the dog. “What happened to you?” She examined the rope around his neck.
“He’s in the doghouse.” Joe clunked the top on the metal garbage can and strolled over. “He destroyed a bunch of Liza’s pots.”
“That’s right! And now I have to spend a whole day remaking them.” Liza stomped toward the house, dark eyes on Rip. “But I got Joe to agree to make me a drying rack, so it’s not a complete loss.” She waggled her eyebrows at Joe, and her eyes shone with mischief.
Mona glanced at Joe. Was he blushing? A strange feeling squeezed her heart. Jealousy? She dismissed it with a shake of her head and got to her feet. “Sorry, Liza. Not today. Joe and I are going hiking, and you’re coming along!” She smiled hopefully at her friend, adding, “Please?”
Mona caught Joe’s expression. He didn’t seem happy.“Liza needs a break too, Joe.”
He gripped the back of his neck. “Sure she does.” He forced a smile. “Come with us, Liza,” he said in a voice that lacked enthusiasm.
Liza surveyed the pair, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t think so—”
“Let’s go!” A smooth tenor interrupted her answer.Mona turned and saw Brian Whitney strutting toward them, his perfect white grin a vivid contrast to his black leather getup.
Mona didn’t miss the delight coloring Liza’s face, and an idea birthed. “Are you coming with us, Brian?” she asked sweetly.
Brian tucked his hands in his coat pockets. “I’d like to. I haven’t been up to see the Kettle for a long time and never with such beautiful company.”
Mona rolled her eyes. Liza beamed at him.
Joe cleared his throat. “Does that ‘beautiful’ description include me?” His grin teased, but Mona detected annoyance lurking in his eyes.
She turned to Brian. “You’re definitely invited. Let’s go.” She peeked at her friend. “Liza?”
Liza nodded, her grin betraying her emotions. “I’ll change.” She bounded past Mona into the house.
Mona put a hand on Rip’s head. His tail hit the side of the house in loud thumps. “Are we bringing the hoodlum along?”
Joe didn’t meet her eyes but crouched beside the dog.“I need all the friends I can get,” he murmured as he untied the rope.
The sun pushed through the heavy foliage of the forest like the rays of heaven. Mona marveled at the song of a pine and birch forest—the whisper of a gentle wind tickling the trees, the occasional drill of a woodpecker, and the chirp of a wren nesting high in a poplar. The scent of balsam and moss drew through her like a cleansing breath
.Mona stopped often as they treaded up the path, simply to inhale the forest fragrance. In the distance, the roar of the waterfall sang, beckoning, promising a breathtaking view of God’s awesome creation. Ten paces in front of her, Joe weaved through the forest in silence, perhaps enjoying the peace as well.
Brian and Liza lingered together in the back, chatting. Joe had let Rip loose, his bark long ago swallowed by foliage. Mona climbed the last bit of a steep rise, breathing heavier than she would have liked. When she reached the top, the trail opened, and below her perhaps fifty feet, the Devil’s Kettle roared in all its ferocity and potency.
Mona leaned on a rough-hewn safety rail and peered over the edge. There were other spectacular views, both from above the Kettle and from an extension bridge they’d passed on the climb up, but this view revealed the mouth of the Kettle, where the rutted granite swallowed the water and anything that swept along with it. Mona shivered, reliving the feelings of childhood.
“Awesome, huh?” Joe leaned on a pole, his arms crossed against his chest, wrinkling his navy-and-green-plaid flannel shirt. Mona turned, nodding. A layer of russet whiskers peeked from his cheeks, framing his warm smile, and joy swam in his eyes. The wilderness was definitely his element.
His smile dimmed, grew rueful. Eyes down, he toed the dirt with his scuffed hiking boots. “I was thinking, Mona . . . maybe today isn’t the day to race across the river. It seems higher than normal, and it probably isn’t safe.”
“What?” Mona clamped her hands on her hips, looking indignant. “I plan on showing you women can not only skip rocks better than men, but we can also walk on water!”
She was rewarded with a crooked grin that made her stomach flip-flop.
“Right,” he said. “Well, you can always change your mind. I’ll take a rematch.”
“Nothing doing,” Mona countered. “I’ll go swimming before I let you win.”
His brows arched, and his eyes twinkled as if that idea pleased him. Mona sent him a fake glare. She hadn’t had this much fun with a fella since . . . oh, truth be told, never.
“Who’s going swimming?” Liza appeared, then leaned over and gripped her knees, breathing hard.
“Nobody,” Joe answered, his eyes piercing Mona’s.
They’d dropped their teasing quality and taken on an edge of seriousness.
Mona turned back to the Kettle, wondering if it could swallow people and, if it did, where they’d end up.
“This is nothing! I thought you wanted me to do something dangerous.” Mona hid a grin and saw Joe’s eyes reflect a hint of annoyance.
She turned back to the bridge of stepping-stones, gauging their sturdiness. They were far above the Kettle, nearly a half mile, and the stones cut a path through what she guessed was a knee-deep portion of the river. Hissing twenty-five feet from her perch, a narrow waterfall dropped about fifteen feet into a pool below. The river picked up from the base of the falls, rushing with increasing intensity over boulders and juts until it spilled into the Kettle. The thought made her jaw tighten, but she wasn’t going to let Joe win. Not after seeing him lose last night. His frustration was too precious.
Mona stood up. “So how do we play this?”
Joe rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. I’m still not convinced this is safe.”
“You’re the chicken now.”
Joe turned and considered her. She met his worried expression with a dour face. He shrugged. “Okay. You win. We’ll race across. But I’m taking you at your word. No swimming.” He smiled, but the worry remained in his eyes.
“No swimming, I promise.” Mona held up three fingers.
“Okay. We count to twenty, slowly. You have to get across the river and back before we finish.”
“Piece of cake!” Mona turned, rubbing her hands together.
“Wait. Let me go first so I can check the rocks. It’s been a while since I’ve done this.”
She stepped back, eyes narrowed.
“Please?”
She shrugged and held out her hands. “Be my guest.”
Joe stooped, measuring out his trail. Liza sat down on the rocks, grinning. A stiff wind lifted Joe’s baseball cap from his head, and he twisted erratically to clamp it back.
Mona laughed. “Is that a dance, Joe?”
He shot her a glare, but the crooked grin in its wake gave him away. Then he whirled and sprang for the first step. He landed on a large, rounded boulder, crouching to grip the edge and keep from falling backward.
“It’s cold water!” Mona hollered.
He stood up, wobbling, and scrambled along the row of tiny rocks, barely skimming the top of the water. He resembled a ballerina dancing on his tiptoes over the water, and Mona clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing aloud, completely forgetting to count. His last step was a giant leap to a long flat rock. He landed cleanly, doing a slight jig on its base.
“Okay, wiseacre, now come back,” Mona called.
“Don’t forget to count!”
Joe made the return dance easily before she reached ten. “Now, it’s your turn,” he said to Mona, his hands on his knees. His eyes sparkled with challenge, and it lit determination in her heart, not to mention what it did to her pulse.
“No!” Brian’s voice brought them up short. “I’m next.”
Before Mona could stop him, Brian jumped onto the first stone. His shiny black boots were a poor match for the slippery rocks, and Mona grimaced as she watched him dunk his feet into the water. He moved awkwardly over the stones and by the time he reached the other side, his pant legs were wet to his thighs. Undaunted, he climbed the flat rock and gave a movie-star wave. Mona noticed that Liza returned it like an ecstatic fan.
“I’m going to wait here till Mona comes!” Brian called. “Send her over.”
Joe’s concerned expression returned.
“C’mon, Joe. I grew up here. I’m not going to go in the drink.”
“Have at it, Skipper,” he said, forcing a breezy tone and doffing his hat.
Mona stepped up to the shore, rocked on her feet, then jumped for the rounded boulder. It was higher than she expected and she clawed the sides, fighting a momentary terror. Scrambling successfully aboard, she surveyed the remaining rocks. None of them appeared sturdy enough to hold her for long. The river skimmed over two of them, wetting their jagged edges like tiny black blades.
Hearing Joe yell, “Three,” Mona gulped and leaped.
The river licked her feet as she danced across, but she kept going, and the other shore approached quickly. Two more rocks, then the final leap. She skipped across and hurled herself into the air, aiming for the long flat rock.
Just as she was about to land, a dark blur whizzed across her face. Wincing, she lost sight of the rock, fell against the hard edge, and landed in the water. The icy arms of the river pulled her down. Water crested over her head.
A million needles pierced her skin. Shocked, she inhaled and choked. A rock slammed into her hip. She pushed frantically against it, and her head broke the surface. “Help!”
The current grabbed her. She tumbled down the river, battling to get her feet ahead of her. The river fought back. It twisted her mercilessly. Hearing her name, she sought the shore. She spotted Joe racing over the rocks. He waved his arms, white-faced, frantic. She gritted her teeth, rolled over, and struggled to swim. The cold stole her strength.
Her hands scraped bottom. A stone ripped the flesh from her wrinkled fingers. Gasping, she drank more water. Then she felt the grip of the waterfall yank her toward its mouth. It hissed in her ears.
Joe’s horrified expression was the last thing she saw before she went over.
10
Terror grabbed Joe when he saw Mona fall into the water. He shot a dark look at Brian, who still had his hand outstretched. He’d seen the guy reach out to grab her, miss, and knock her off balance. It was all Brian’s fault.
But as Joe raced downstream, yelling at Mona to grab a branch, a rock, anything, he knew the fault was his. She floundered about in the Kettle’s icy grip because he had goaded her into playing his game. His pulse thundered as dread propelled him along the rocky shoreline.“Get your feet under you!”
Liza ran behind him, screaming.
He stumbled down the riverbank, praying he’d reach Mona before she was swept over the falls. Mona flailed in the water, fighting like a banshee, but the river tossed her at will. His foolishness whipped his heart when he glimpsed her panicked face. Oh, God, please help her!
He screamed her name one last time before she pitched over the falls. He didn’t think beyond that, 113 reacted on instinct. Racing to the top of the falls, he plunged into the pool several feet behind Mona. He came up, already digging into the current. From her pale, stricken face, he knew she’d swallowed a dangerous amount of water. She spotted him and called out weakly.
“Swim!” Joe lunged toward her, riding the swift current. He narrowed the gap between them, but they were eating up the mile toward the Kettle at a rapid clip. She slammed against the rocks; her face grimaced in pain.
“Fight, Mona!” He touched her jacket. The river yanked it away.
Bursting to life, she kicked toward the shore, reaching for low-hanging saplings and underbrush. Her grabs, while they didn’t hold, slowed her down.
Joe tumbled past her and managed to snare a root jutting over the water. His feet swung around with the current. He propped them against a sturdy underwater boulder.
A second later Mona slammed into his chest. He curled a steel arm around her waist and pinned her frigid body against him. The river fought him, trying to wrench her from his grasp, but he refused surrender and gripped the root like a vise.
“Mona, turn around and grab the root.” Although clearly exhausted, Mona groaned and reached out. He kept his arm around her body, and his legs were iron against the current, despite its fury. “Now, pull yourself up and climb onto shore.”
She strained to break free of the current. He tried to help, lifting her as best he could. A spasm of coughing ripped through her body. He winced, feeling her tremble, but her determination amazed him. She seized the root while her legs scrambled for footing.
“C’mon, you can do it.” His skin felt numb from the icy lick of the river. Mona’s lips were blue. Slipping on the muddy, unstable rocks, she cried out in panic. Joe steadied his footing and caught her as she tumbled backward. “I’m right here, Mona,” he said into her ear. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He heard her moan as she grabbed again for shore. Hand over hand, she climbed onto the mossy, rooted bank.
Finally, she sank into an exhausted ball in the weeds. Joe clambered up after her. Her teeth chattered and she shivered violently. Joe wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. “Are you hurt?” He feared the answer.
She shook her head. Joe closed his eyes, relief pouring through him in fierce tremors. Thank You, Lord. He’d caught sight of the Kettle opening a mere fifty yards from their perch.
Mona settled her head on his chest. He heard her hiccup, felt her shudder; then she began to weep. His heart ripped open as he held her, burying his cheek in her sodden hair.
Mona clung to Joe, fisting her hand in his soggy shirt, and let her fear seep out in giant sobs. She hadn’t known terror like that for years. As she’d raced downriver, she relived the horror of feeling life slip out of control and hope slide through her grip. She’d been down her own dark kettle, not the Devil’s Kettle, but a terrifying place nonetheless, and she had no desire to repeat it.
As her sobs subsided, she became aware of Joe’s arms around her, the tender, steady way he held her without comment. A husky male scent mingled with the smell of the river embedded in his soggy clothes. He rested his cheek against her head, and as she relaxed into his embrace, she felt his heartbeat thundering through his chest. His breath came in heavy gusts.
He’d risked his life to save her.
Locked safely in his grip, a sense of peace overwhelmed her, a feeling different from the tingle from his earlier embrace. This one comforted, protected. She didn’t fight it, and for a brief moment she sank into it, grateful for his presence.
“Mona!” Liza’s terrified voice sliced the air. Mona heard the echo of branches breaking on the other side of the river.
Pulling back, Mona glanced up at Joe. He caught her with his piercing blue-eyed gaze. Her mouth grew dry at the emotions written in his expression.
“Th-they’re searching for us,” she stammered.
Joe nodded but didn’t loosen his hold. Biting her lip, she wiggled out of his arms. As she climbed to her feet, the world began to spin. She grabbed for a branch; her hand closed around air. She pitched forward.
Joe’s strong arm snaked around her waist. He pulled her back into his arms. “Are you okay?”
She avoided his probing eyes. “Yes, just a bit dizzy, that’s all.”
; She heard her name again, then spied Liza and a blurry Brian crashing through the woods on the opposite side of the river. She waved, steadying herself on Joe’s muscled arm. “Over here!”
Liza’s relief was vivid, even from a distance. Brian emerged from the forest a step behind Liza, his face creased with worry. He waved to her. Liza cupped her hands around her mouth. “We’ll meet you at the bridge!”
Mona gave her a thumbs-up. They would meet at the extension bridge that crossed the river below the Kettle. “Guess we’re bushwhacking,” she said to Joe as she stepped out of his arms. He wore a strange expression on his face but nodded. She felt his hand wrap gently around her elbow as they set off down the shore.
“Don’t even say it,” Mona muttered fifteen minutes later as she climbed over a fallen birch. She folded her arms across her chest, pressing back a violent chill. Goose bumps layered her skin, and it didn’t help that the wind suddenly decided to whistle through the forest on a nippy lash of northern exposure. Her cold jeans chafed her skin, and her hair felt plastered in thick chunks to her head. I must look adorable.
“Don’t say what?” Joe’s voice was solemn, his face grim. He’d finally loosened his grip from her arm, yet walked close enough to steady her if the world should go Tilt-A-Whirl again. He’d said nothing as they passed by the Kettle. Her own fear—and the realization of what might have been—muted her into profound gratefulness.
“Don’t say that you won.”
Joe stopped, gripped her arm again, and turned her to face him. “I wouldn’t even dream it.” Guilt weighed in his eyes. “This is all my fault, Mona. I’m so sorry.”
Mona blinked in surprise. She jutted her chin out.“Hardly. I distinctly recall you trying to talk me out of crossing the river.”
Happily Ever After Page 10
