Torrents of Destruction

by Robin Caroll

  Christian nearly fell over himself pouring a mug for the beautiful woman.

  Katie clenched her cup’s handle. What was her little brother doing? He’d just had a date last night with someone who had to be important to him. After all, she’d been in his cabin. Surely her brother wasn’t some kind of player? That’d just make her sick.

  Christian flirted shamelessly with the woman. Katie turned her head, not wanting to see this side of her brother anymore. Using more force than intended, she pushed her chair back from the table.

  A loud grating sound shot through the room as wood scraped against wood.

  Standing, Katie offered a smile to the men at the table. “We’d better get a move on, gentlemen.” She pointed to the hall off one side of the fireplace. “Down there you will find all the wetsuits and four dressing rooms. Make sure you select a wetsuit that fits snugly.”

  The men stood and moved toward the changing area. All except Hunter. He continued to sip his coffee and stare at Katie.

  She squirmed under his scrutiny. “Shouldn’t you go get changed?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

  The outer corners of his mouth lifted. “You said there were only four dressing rooms, right? There are six of us. I can wait.”

  Refusing to rise to the bait he seemed determined to dangle in front of her, Katie turned to glare at her brother. He appeared mighty cozy, with Ariel clinging to his arm and smiling up at him.

  Katie straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and strode over to them. She held her hand out to Ariel. “Hi. I’m Katie Gallagher.”

  Ariel’s smiled and shook her hand. “Nice to meet you. It’s a lovely place you have here.”

  “Thank you.” She turned to her brother. “Don’t you think you should be getting to the shop?”

  Christian tossed her a disdainful look. “Yeah, we were about to head that way after I cleared the kitchen.”

  She didn’t have to reply as Carter sauntered out of the dressing area, clad in a black wetsuit with yellow stripes. The desire to laugh at the old man’s appearance and his obvious pumped-up self-importance in the get-up made Katie press her knuckles to her mouth.

  Hunter appeared at her elbow, his voice booming, saving her from making a huge faux pas. “Carter, you look quite comfortable in that second skin. Now I’m eager to get myself all gussied up.”

  The old man smiled, his chest puffing. “Then get on with it, Hunter, my boy. Time’s a-wastin’. I’m sure Ms. Gallagher here is eager to get us on that river.” He clapped his hands, then rubbed them together.

  Hunter chuckled as he headed toward the dressing room.

  For a moment, Katie forgot about the old man and his outrageous appearance, about Christian’s attitude toward women, even about being a guide to the group—instead, her mind focused on Hunter Malone.

  Chapter 4

  Sixth sense working overtime, Hunter shook off the foreboding pinpricks of doom hovering in his head. Inside the stall, he coated his legs with powder from the bottle sitting on the tiny ledge. Clouds of talc rose and tickled his nostrils. He let out a loud sneeze, then sniffed. His eyes watered for a moment before he could inhale. The smell of Gold-Bond filled the crowded area.

  Sounds of frustration coming from the adjoining stall indicated Walter didn’t know to use the talc. Hunter bit back a chuckle. Let the chief accountant get his thighs chafed—he’d sure rubbed Hunter raw enough times in the past six months.

  The spaces were only about two feet by four feet. Hunter’s wide frame barely fit. He bent to slip his legs through the propene material and his elbows knocked against the sides. The green indoor-outdoor carpet dug into the soles of his feet as he changed. The curtain used for a privacy door hung lopsided, as if someone had hurriedly hemmed the rod stitching uneven. Hunter smiled, not quite able to conjure up the image of Katie Gallagher bent over a sewing machine.

  He pulled up the wetsuit and situated it over his hips. Hunter couldn’t stop thinking about Katie. Even though Carter seemed to have insulted her with his “stocky build” comment—he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen someone turn so blazing red so fast. Despite his attraction to her, Hunter couldn’t help but chuckle. What she had planned to snap back before Ariel had entered, he’d love to know.

  Zipping up the diver-black suit, Hunter then pushed aside the stall curtain and bent over to slip his feet into the water shoes he’d lugged into the room. Grunts and groans still emitted from Walter’s changing area, growing in decibels. Hunter hung his faded jeans on a hook, then headed back to the main room of the lodge, leaving Walter to continue his vain attempts to dress.

  Hunter strode across the main room to the area in front of the fireplace. All the members of the group, less Walter, converged on the sofas. Even though the seats offered cushy comfort, the men sat on the edge, as if in anticipation, or worse, trepidation.

  Katie held the men spellbound as she went over last minute instructions, using her hands as well as her words to communicate. Her ever-present dog sat on his haunches at her feet, his gaze glued to his mistress.

  “And remember to follow my commands at all times.” Her facial expression left no doubt of her seriousness. “This can be a fun trip, gentlemen, but make no mistake, the Gauley River isn’t some tame little run. The Upper Gauley, which we are about to do, contains several class-five rapids, as well as fours and threes. It is imperative each of you do your part. We are a team in the boat.”

  Her shimmering eyes lit on each man in turn. “And most importantly, whatever you do, don’t lose your paddle. Our motto is ‘paddle or die,’ and I mean just that, gentlemen. Now, does anyone have any questions?”

  “What about the weather report?” Steve shifted in his seat and kept his gaze pinned to the floor.

  “We’re monitoring the weather. We may experience some rain and wind, but that’ll just add to the excitement, don’t you think?” She flexed her hands. Was she nervous about something—the imposing weather, perhaps?—or did she itch to get on the water?

  Walter finally staggered out from the dressing room, his suit not completely pulled into position. His weathered face flushed in alternating shades of pink and red. The gray, thinning hair stuck out at odd angles from his head.

  Katie’s eyes widened as she stared at the man, and she shook her head. “Mr. Thompson, you’ll need to fix your wetsuit.”

  The red blush across his face deepened, etching into the wrinkles on his brow. “This is the best I can do, Ms. Gallagher.”

  Katie’s expelled sigh lingered. In four strides, she stood before him, grabbed the wetsuit around Walter’s bulging middle, and yanked upward. Forcefully.

  Hunter glanced out the window to avoid laughing in the poor man’s face.

  “Now, is everyone ready? Remember, no cell phones or other electronics on this trip.”

  Hunter swallowed back his reaction to her silhouette as she stood in front of the fireplace. Unlike the lithe supermodels of today, Katie’s figure had curves—in all the right places. Her upper arms, as well as her calves and thighs, were muscular with no sign of flab. The black Body Glove wetsuit looked as if it’d been sprayed on her body, ending just below her knees.

  He clenched his jaw, struggling to keep his thoughts on his task—it’d be best for him to treat her as one of the guys. Hunter nearly snorted. As if he could think of the fiery woman as one of the guys.

  He let out a long breath. This was his job, his career, and he couldn’t afford any distractions.

  No matter how much that distraction made him think of…of what he didn’t want to analyze.

  Katie, with Shadow darting ahead of her on the path, led the group toward the shop, anticipation building in her chest. Wind swirled, carrying the scent of rain in its breezes, beckoning to her heart. A chill hung over the river—a foretelling of the shift of weather. Katie lifted her head and felt the movement of the surrounding area, the life and breath of the Gauley. No matter how many years or how many trips she’d guided, stepp
ing into the raft first thing in the morning always sent a thrill zipping through her, as if she and the raging river were one.

  Shadow rushed back to her, leaping and barking as he pawed the ground. Katie smiled. He loved rafting almost as much as she did. She patted her leg and Shadow leaned against her. She rubbed the soft fur between his ears to calm him, but noted how his body tensed, as if he couldn't contain his excitement.

  Once they’d reached the gravel put-in area beside the Gauley Guides by Gallagher shop, Katie caught sight of the burly man standing by the raft. A smile lifted to her mouth, as well as warmth spreading into her heart. His thick graying hair hung down his back. A bushy mustache complimented his mountain man look. He cocked out his hip, and squinted in the morning sun’s sparse rays, appearing ominous in form.

  Katie grinned wider and rushed up to hug him tight before turning to the men in her group. “Gentlemen, this is Rory Franklin. Rory is our videographer and photographer—he’ll be filming our trip as well as taking still shots for your souvenirs.”

  The men introduced themselves to Rory while Katie checked the bedrolls the men dropped beside the raft. She ran a bungee cord through each of the strings tied around the bedrolls, then looped the end to the inside of the little ducky Rory would pull behind his kayak. The tarp encasing the little river craft would protect the bedrolls from the elements. Katie secured the tarp, taking into consideration the high probability of rains and wind. She tossed in the additional supply packs and hooked them to the bungee cords. Double-checking the knots and connections, Katie pulled and tugged against the cords.

  Hunter squatted down beside her, resting his elbows on his knees. “What are you doing?”

  “Securing your gear to Rory’s kayak.”

  He clutched his hands together and rocked back on his heels. “You mean our stuff won’t be in the boat with us?”

  “No way.” She nodded toward the raft. “With eight adults and one dog, the stuff wouldn’t fit. We only have the basics in our raft.”

  “The dog is coming with us?”

  Now she let out a real laugh. “Yeah, Shadow goes on all my tours with me. He’s my bodyguard as well as my best buddy.”

  At the mention of his name, Shadow nosed between Katie and Hunter, pushing his snout under Katie’s hand. She chuckled and rubbed his head. “See.” She narrowed her eyes and stared at the comical looking crew talking to Rory. “At least Shadow’s experienced,” she mumbled.

  “Hey, I heard that.”

  She laughed again. “Sorry.” Katie shook her head. “I just prefer more experienced rafters when tackling the Upper Gauley first thing in the morning.” She lifted her head to stare into the gathering clouds threatening to block out the sun’s dim rays. “And in rain.”

  “Why didn’t another guide take our group?”

  Letting out a long sigh, she shrugged. Even though she normally didn’t talk one-on-one to members of a group, this Hunter Malone knew which questions to ask. “Well, Gabe has a broken leg, so he couldn’t even if he’d wanted to.”

  “And your other brother, Christian?”

  What was with all his questions? She inhaled deeply, letting the air whisper over her teeth. “He’s got a group later to do the Lower Gauley.”

  “Another overnight one? So we’ll meet up with them?”

  “My, you sure ask a lot of questions. But, no, the next group is just a day trip.” A couple of strands of hair slipped from her braid, gently brushing against her face. She tucked them behind her ear and stood. “You shouldn’t worry, though. I’m a better guide than Christian.” Katie chuckled as she stomped a couple of times, getting the blood moving down to her lower extremities again. She refused to meet Hunter’s gaze, afraid of the judgments she’d find lurking behind his hypnotic eyes.

  Hunter shrugged as he rose. “I don’t know, though. I don’t think I’d want my sister to hang with a bunch of men unchaperoned for a whole weekend.” His eyes bored into her, a silent challenge for more information.

  She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “It’s not like that. The river’s busy this time of year—crowded almost. I have my own separate tent for me and Shadow, and Rory acts as a chaperone of sorts.”

  A water-pungent breeze tugged the strands of hair free once more. Hunter reached out and swept them behind her ear, his finger grazing her lobe.

  The gesture felt intimate … too personal. She’d just met him. She took a step backward, her heart pounding as loud as Paddle Rock’s rushing class-five rapid. She swallowed, choosing to stare at the river for a moment rather than meet Hunter’s piercing stare. “Besides, a rafting excursion isn’t exactly a romantic trip.”

  Hunter’s glance caressed her face. “I’m not so sure about that. I think with the right person, any trip can be romantic.”

  Heat rushed up her neck and crossed her face. Confusion hit her like a tidal wave. Hunter Malone, while attractive and interesting, would be here for a weekend, and one weekend only. No sense wasting mental energy on even thinking about a possible relationship with someone who wouldn’t be around long enough to get to know. Besides, she needed to concentrate on her job—the river demanded her undivided attention. Other people’s lives depended on her.

  She straightened her shoulders and snapped her fingers. Shadow wiggled on the ground beside her, bouncing on his paws. Katie’s hands automatically slipped the harness over the Blue Heeler, as she spoke to the men, whose attention she now had. “Rory will be towing our gear in the ducky behind his kayak. He’ll be ahead of us the entire trip, filming and photographing.”

  Once the harness was properly on Shadow, Katie popped her hands on her hips. “Now’s the time to get your life jackets on, take last minute bathroom breaks, and get yourself ready.” She glanced at her watch. “Be back out here in fifteen minutes, and we’ll be on our way.”

  In the shop, Hunter watched the other men argue over which life jacket was the best brand. Didn’t they realize it didn’t mattered? All the propene/nylon suits hanging on the hooks were good, even though the distinct odor of mildew infiltrated each one. Gauley Guides by Gallagher advertised being a top-notch service all the way around, and Hunter hadn’t been disappointed yet. Sure, the place could use some updating, but the facilities were acceptable.

  His fascination with Katie Gallagher kept derailing Hunter’s train of thought. Attractive and intriguing, she awakened feelings in him that he’d thought were buried deep. Having been trained to discern between the way people presented themselves and the way they truly were, Hunter couldn’t find any evidence of deception or falsehood on Katie’s part. Rare to find someone truly open and honest, yet also comfortable in their own skin. And Katie Gallagher was definitely comfortable with her place in life. She blended into the nature surrounding her as if she truly belonged in the wild.

  But, he argued with himself, didn’t she realize the temptations men faced? And here she sat, on a weekend trip alone with seven men. He shook his head. Not that he thought her immoral, not by any means, but he couldn’t ignore the attraction factor.

  Orson bumped Hunter’s shoulder. “What do you think?” His voice barely audible over the other men’s wetsuit debate.

  Hunter narrowed his eyes into slits. He, too, kept his voice low. “Not now, Orson.” His gaze drifted over toward the other men. “Later,” he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth before moving toward the counter.

  Christian stood behind the cash register, laughing heartily at the group and joining in on the men’s lively discussion. Ariel sat on the stool beside him, her gaze feasting on him. Her eyes twinkled under the blaring overhead lights, and her mouth seemed permanently curved into a seductive smile.

  Using deliberate casualness, Hunter leaned nearer and made eye contact with Ariel. Her eyes were blue, but not nearly as striking as Katie’s. She met his gaze, lifted a brow, then darted her stare toward Christian. Hunter rubbed the tip of his chin, then tugged on his right earlobe.

  Ariel hopped off the stool
and stretched. Clad in a second-skin wetsuit, she drew every man’s appreciative glance. She bent toward Christian, whispered something in his ear, then strutted down the hall.

  Hunter tapped the counter with his finger to get Christian’s attention. “Where’s the men’s room? Your sister said I only had fifteen minutes to take care of business. It might take that long to get this wetsuit off.”

  Christian chuckled and pointed down the hall where Ariel had disappeared. “Down there to the left, man. Be sure and use powder on your body before you try to pull the wetsuit back up. Makes it much easier.”

  Hunter nodded, then turned and sauntered in that direction. The corridor, like the shop itself, boasted green Astro-Turf. The light brown paneling must keep the obvious wear and tear from showing as much. From the corner of his eye, Hunter made sure the other men in the party were still occupied with selecting life jackets. He passed the point where he couldn’t be seen from the shop’s main room, then picked up his pace to a slight jog.

  At the end of the hall, there were doors on both the right and the left, politely marked MEN and WOMEN. He rapped twice on the WOMEN’s with the back of his knuckles, then waited a second, and knocked twice more. The door pulled open.

  Hunter glanced down the passageway. No one lurked in the corridor. He stepped across the threshold and pushed the door closed behind him.

  Ariel turned the lock, then smiled at Hunter.

  Chapter 5

  The second hand on her watch spun. Katie made quick, short strides beside the raft. Her water shoes kicked gravel with each punctuated step, sending puffs of rock dust into the air. The few broken sunbeams glistened off the river, casting a shimmering glare. For the eighth time in the last five minutes, she glanced at her watch before shielding her eyes with her hand and glowering at the door to the shop. What could be keeping Hunter Malone?