“There’s always a first time. Today is mine. Let’s go.”
His legs shook when he stood, further proof she was making the right decision. With her on one side and the walking stick on the other, Sam made his way to the raft and eased over the side onto the floor, leaning against the thwart. Kimmik jumped into the raft and wagged his tail at her expectantly.
Dana carefully put away the sleeping bags. She managed to get the PFD over Sam’s splint, and buckled it and his helmet before donning hers. She untied the raft and gave it a shove. Nothing happened. Okay, lesson one. Push into the water before loading the raft. But Sam had done it this way.
Kimmik jumped out and gave a bark. She got down lower and put her shoulder into it. This time, the raft slid six inches farther into the water. Good. Three more good shoves and it was floating. Kimmik jumped in and she followed, tripping over the equipment on the way, but eventually she made it to the oarsman seat.
She took the oars in her hands, measuring their weight, getting the feel of them. Sam gave a little smile of encouragement. She smiled back and gave her first stroke, just as she’d seen Sam do it. She felt it in every muscle in her core, but the boat leaped forward into the current, carrying them downstream.
After a minute of solid oaring, she had to stop to catch her breath. How did Sam do this hour after hour? The man was a machine. Fortunately, the current continued to carry them forward, and a slight downriver breeze helped push them along.
“You’re doing great.” She could tell Sam was fighting to keep his eyes open, but he watched her. “Don’t wear yourself out. It’s a long stretch.”
Dana nodded and started oaring again, setting a more reasonable rhythm. Up, rotate, pull, up, rotate, pull. One stroke at a time, she was moving them down the river.
Up ahead, she could hear rushing water. Sam heard it, too. “Easy does it, just hug the outside bank, but put your tail toward the center.”
Dana pushed the raft toward the outer edge of the bend, keeping the raft at a forty-five degree angle the way Sam had done it. Frothy water jostled the raft and she stiffened, but it carried them through the bend. The river took another sharp turn, and they bumped into an almost-submerged rock, rolled to the left and spun in a complete circle before another stroke gained her control once again. Dana let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Good job.” Sam gave her a thumbs-up with his good hand. She smiled at him. Her shoulders ached and her abdominal muscles protested each movement, but they still functioned. She could do this.
They continued the float downriver. Sam had drifted off, his head cushioned against the inflated tube. They reached a point where the river branched into three small rivers. Which one? Did it matter? She decided the one on the right seemed the least intimidating, with hardly a ripple in the surface. She soon realized her mistake, as the water became shallower and finally petered out into a marshy area too shallow for the boat.
She oared in reverse, pushing the boat against the current, but when she lifted the oars to make another stroke, she lost all the ground she’d made up. The muscles in her arms burned. I give up. Dana almost said it aloud, but after a glance at Sam’s face as he slept, she knew giving up wasn’t an option.
She reversed the boat so her back was upriver and rowed hard and fast, still losing one stroke for every two she gained, but eventually they were out of the backwater and into the main channel. This time she chose the branch where the current seemed the strongest. Roots from a fallen tree blocked part of the path, but she pushed off with the oars and they glided past. Soon the current picked up again and the branches of river joined together, gathering speed.
Dana rested the oars on the tubes and caught her breath. The sun was high in the sky now but not quite overhead, so it probably wasn’t noon yet. Unfortunately, she had no idea how much farther they had to go. She resumed oaring.
Time passed. Dana spotted another set of ripples ahead. She didn’t see any route to avoid them, so she went through the middle. The raft jostled as if they were driving down a rough road, but Sam didn’t stir. She rowed harder.
They passed a bend and, before her, the river split into two sections. She didn’t have time for another mistake. “Sam.” He didn’t respond. Dana called louder, “Sam, wake up!”
His eyes opened momentarily, then closed again. Dana rowed toward a tree leaning over the river and hooked the bowline around it. She climbed to the back of the raft where Sam rested and laid her hand on his forehead.
His fever had spiked again. She stroked his face. “Sam, wake up. You need to take some pills.”
He stirred and seemed surprised to see her. “Dana?”
“Yeah. Here. Swallow these.” She pressed the tablets into his hand and offered the water bottle. He swallowed obediently. “Sam, listen. We’re at a break in the river. Can you tell me which branch to take?”
He blinked and then tried to struggle upward. Dana helped him into a sitting position on the thwart. He narrowed his eyes to slits and looked downriver. “Are we on Brazzle Creek?”
Yikes. He didn’t even remember where they were. “Yes. Brazzle Creek.” She had to get him to that plane, ASAP.
“That one.” He pointed to the left branch.
“Are you sure?”
“Main channel.”
“How far are we from the pickup area?”
Sam concentrated. “An hour?”
“Okay. Why don’t you lie down again? We’ll be there before you know it.”
Sam slumped onto the floor of the boat, and Dana untied the bowline. In the haze of fever, Sam wasn’t even sure what river they were on, but she had to trust his instincts. They were all she had.
He was correct. After weaving back and forth a few times, the left branch widened. Clouds had gathered to block the sun, so she couldn’t tell exactly where it was positioned in the sky. Maybe it wasn’t noon yet. Maybe if it was, the pilot would wait a little while. Or if not, maybe the pilot would fly overhead and see them on the river. That was a lot of maybes. She rowed faster.
Cottonwoods hung over the banks here, blocking her view of the sky. The river widened more and slowed. Without the brisk current to carry them along, Dana had to supply even more of the power to push the raft forward. Every muscle in her body screamed, but she kept rowing.
They came around a bend, and the wide expanse of the lake stretched in front of them. Dana breathed a sigh of relief until she noticed the hum. There on the far side of the lake, a plane grew smaller as it pulled away.
Nooooo.
She slumped in the seat. Then her eyes fell on the bag Sam mentioned contained rescue ropes, and she remembered what else she’d found in the bag her first night in Anchorage. She tore it open and pulled out the red flare gun and a package of flares. It took a few precious seconds to figure out how to load the flare.
She pointed the gun far to the right of the plane, closed her eyes and pulled the trigger. She opened her eyes to see the flare shooting across the sky. It was much lower than the plane, but maybe it would grab the pilot’s attention. Distress was three blasts, right? She repeated the process twice more as quickly as she could and watched for a moment before she saw the most beautiful sight in the world.
The plane turned in a wide arc and dropped onto the lake.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DANA GRABBED A cup of coffee and sipped it as she waited in the hallway for Sam’s nurse to complete her examination. The ambulance had been waiting for Sam at the dock. Sam’s pilot friend had volunteered to drop her off at the hospital and take Kimmik to his house, and Dana gratefully accepted.
When she arrived at the hospital, the grim expression on the face of the emergency room doctor was enough to send Dana’s heart racing, but Sam rallied and they’d transferred him to a hospital room.
While they wer
e getting Sam cleaned up and admitted, Dana borrowed a phone from one of the staff to leave a message for Chris, thankful she remembered the number. She should call Ursula, but with their cell phones somewhere on the bottom of Brazzle Creek, she had no way to contact her.
That was hours ago. Since then, she’d been sitting by Sam’s side or lurking outside his door while the medical people came and went and did whatever it was they did. Sam slept a lot, whether because of his exhaustion or the drugs, Dana wasn’t sure. Probably both. His breathing seemed easier, which made her breathing easier, too.
Now that he was safe, she could take time to examine the situation, and the truth made her cringe. Her carelessness, forgetting to clip the carabiner onto the raft, was the beginning of the chain of disasters that almost cost Sam his life. As much as she’d loved the wild river, the birds and otters and bears, it had been a mistake for her to go along. She was a hazard. She belonged in town, where traffic lights signaled when it was safe to cross the street, not out in the wilderness with Sam, where a tiny lapse in judgment could have such huge consequences. Thank goodness he was going to live.
Someone pushed a trolley through the hall, collecting empty plates from the various rooms, which must mean it was evening. Dana tossed her empty coffee cup into a trash receptacle. She should probably think about finding something to eat, but all she really wanted to do was be with Sam. The nurse came out and smiled at her. “His fever is down and Dr. Tucker says it’s a go. We’ll be taking Sam into surgery soon.”
“That’s good news.” They’d already explained the need for surgery to clean out the wound and fight the infection, as well as put in a couple of pins to help the bones heal. They’d just been waiting for Sam’s condition to stabilize.
Dana pushed her way into the room and reached for Sam’s good hand, careful not to jar his IV. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Sam seemed more alert. When he met her eyes, that feverish, glassy look was gone. The antibiotics and whatever other drugs they had in there seemed to be working their magic.
“The nurse says you’re scheduled for surgery.”
“Yeah. The doctor says it should heal fine as long as they can get the infection under control.” He squeezed her hand. “He also said if I’d waited another day I probably wouldn’t be here. I owe you my life.”
Oh, Sam. It was all her fault, but if she said that, he would just argue with her. “If you hadn’t pulled me out of the river, I might not be here, either. You don’t owe me anything.” Tears threatened, but she needed to keep this light. “Well, except maybe a salmon dinner.”
He laughed and winced. “Hey, have pity on my ribs.”
“Sorry.”
“Speaking of salmon, did you get the king into the refrigerator?”
He was lying in a hospital bed, worrying about the condition of his fish. Were all fishermen like this? “Your friend at the flying service said he’d go back for your equipment and take care of everything, including Kimmik.”
“Good. He’ll probably vacuum-pack it and freeze it then.” He squeezed her hand. “Seriously, Dana. What you did on the river—”
Before he could finish the sentence, the nurse bustled back into the room and injected something into the IV bag. “It’s time. Are you ready?”
Sam met Dana’s eyes. “A kiss for luck?”
“You bet.” She pressed her lips to his as the nurse released the brake.
The nurse threw an amused smile over her shoulder as she pushed the bed down the hall. “You can wait in the room at the end of the hallway.”
Twenty minutes later, Dana was sitting in an orange vinyl chair, pretending to read a magazine, when Ursula burst into the room. “Where is he?”
“In surgery.”
“I came as soon as Chris called. He’ll be here in a few hours.” Ursula dropped into the chair beside Dana, her face agitated. “Sam is always so careful. Even when he was a teenager, Tommy taught him to plan things out and take precautions. What happened?”
Confession time. Dana squared her shoulders. “We were on Brazzle Creek and hit a bad patch of water. The bag with the phones and the camera went overboard. I tried to grab it, but I got thrown out, too, and while he was pulling me into the raft, the oar came loose and broke Sam’s arm.”
Dana thought she saw a flash of fury in Ursula’s eyes before she closed them and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she studied Dana, a frown on her face. “You’re a mess. Have you been here the whole time?”
Dana nodded.
“Go home. Take a shower. I’ll stay with Sam.”
Dana shook her head. “I want to be here for him.”
Ursula crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Haven’t you done enough? Go.”
Slowly, Dana rose to her feet. Ursula was right. Sam’s injuries were all on her. She never should have gone on the float trip. She never should have spent so much time with Sam in the first place. Because she didn’t belong with someone like him. She should have foreseen that it could only lead to tragedy—maybe not broken bones, but it was predictable that somebody was going to suffer the consequences. She shouldn’t have taken the risk.
Ursula’s face softened and she pulled out her phone. “I’ll call a cab for you.”
By the time Dana made it to the front door of the hospital, a taxi was waiting. She slid into the back seat, gave Sam’s address and collapsed against the cracked vinyl. She hadn’t realized until this minute just how much she hurt. Sore muscles she didn’t even know she had cried out in protest. But that was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.
* * *
THE SOUND OF humming and beeps forced its way into Sam’s consciousness. He vaguely remembered waking up after surgery and seeing Ursula’s face. His eyelids felt too heavy to lift.
The door latch clicked open. “How is he?” Chris’s voice.
“Shh, he’s asleep. They said he’ll be fine as long as they can get the infection cleared up,” Ursula whispered. “They’ve set the bones, and he’s responding to antibiotics.”
“How did this happen?”
“Sounds like that sister of yours fell out of a raft and in the process of saving her, he broke his arm.”
“What was he doing taking Dana on a fly-in raft trip, anyway? She knows squat about wilderness camping. She was supposed to be on her way home.”
“Heaven knows. And speaking of your sister, how come you never happened to mention you had one?” Ursula’s voice was getting louder, more stern.
“It never came up.”
“Oh, really? And I suppose the fact that your name used to be Raynott never came up, either.”
“That’s right.”
“Are you trying to make me believe it was a coincidence that you never mentioned it?”
“I never said that. I figured that information would do more harm than good. I’m not a Raynott anymore, and I have no ties to them.”
“Not until your sister showed up, anyway.”
“Hey. Don’t blame Dana. Whatever my father may have done, it’s not her fault. She’s just trying to do the right thing.”
“I’m sure she is. I like her, in fact. She’s a nice person. But Sam would have been a whole lot better off if she’d never come to Alaska.”
“Where is she, anyway? Her message said she’d be here.”
“I sent her home. The last thing Sam needs is some doe-eyed cheechako who has to be rescued every five minutes hanging around him. I’m sure she didn’t mean to almost kill Sam, but we all know about good intentions and where that road leads.”
“You might get your facts straight before you chase her off.” Sam’s voice was just a rasp across his throat.
Ursula turned, startled. “You’re awake.” She poured a cup of water and passed it to him. “How are you feeling?”
S
am sipped the water, then set it down and locked eyes with Ursula. “A whole lot better than I was this morning when that ‘doe-eyed cheechako,’ as you call her, dragged me half-conscious into a raft and oared us all the way from just below the lower rapids to the pickup point.”
“But that’s, like, fifteen miles,” Chris said.
“I know. I told her to wait for rescue, but she wouldn’t risk letting the infection get worse. The doctor told me if I’d been out another twenty-four hours, I’d have surely lost my arm, and quite possibly my life.”
Ursula blinked. “Dana did that?”
“She did.” He turned on Chris. “And you. You run away and leave your kid sister holding the bag on all the family responsibilities. Then when she manages to track you down, you leave her alone in the house and go fishing without a word of explanation. What’s wrong with you?” The strain of talking scratched Sam’s throat and he coughed. He gulped down some water and looked up to see them both staring at him. Rants weren’t his usual style, but some things needed to be said.
He continued in a quieter voice. “I accept full responsibility for everything that went wrong on this trip. I should have scouted the lower rapids before we ran them. It was avoiding an unexpected sweeper that caused the accident. I made mistakes and because of those mistakes, Dana was in danger. I probably shouldn’t have taken her out without support. But you know what? Up until then, she was loving it. She loves everything about Alaska, and she has more heart and more courage than anyone I’ve ever known.”
Neither of them spoke for a few moments. Then Chris patted his good shoulder. “Man, you’ve got it bad.”
Sam started to shake his head, but Chris went on. “And that’s not good for either of you. Dana’s always done exactly what the old man tells her to do, and he’s set it up so she can’t leave Kansas. Without him around, her mother is going to be entirely dependent on her.”
Sam took a deep breath and almost welcomed the tug of pain in his ribs as a distraction. Chris wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. “I’m aware she’s going home. I just don’t want her slinking off in the night, feeling like everyone blames her. She’s a hero.”
The Alaskan Catch Page 17
