White Water Passion

by Dawn Luedecke

  “Help!” she yelled and jerked her head toward the shoreline. The bank lay empty. A quick search of the hill above the chute proved fruitless as well. The men had already left for the evening. They were probably all sitting down to Aunt June’s chicken and asparagus pie, and here she was bound for God knows where.

  The log picked up speed as it neared the mouth of the river, and she screamed for help. Looking back over her shoulder, she realized it was too late. No one could hear her.

  * * * *

  Garrett slammed the door to the cabin shut and headed toward the lake, almost running into Luther. He moved to the side to let the timber beast past. “Have you seen Brent?”

  Luther answered with a shake of his head and gave an easy smile. “If you can’t find him, do I get the riverman job?”

  Garrett kicked one side of his mouth up in a forced smile. Luther’s joke made his stomach drop. “Sure. If Brent is gone, then you can have his job.” Beth had better not be gone. Could the careless prank this morning have made her think twice about staying in camp? Had she gone home on the train? There was no way she went back to Missoula on her own.

  Where in the hell had she gone without him? After Aunt June sent Simon to summon him to the cook cabin, he’d left her standing near the bunks with Simon plopping onto one of the few chairs in the room.

  Now, Simon sat at the chow table with the rest of the crew and threw his head back to laugh at something one of the men said.

  Garrett locked eyes with him, stopped, and motioned for his friend to meet him in the thicket. Once his friend stood, he continued down the trail, veering off into the brush where he and Simon frequently met when they didn’t want to be overheard.

  It took only a few moments before Simon’s large frame hurried through the brush. “Was Jessip here?”

  “No. Have you seen Beth? I left her with you in the cabin, but she’s not there now.”

  “Oh that. She’s probably using the outhouse or something.”

  Garrett shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not after what happened this morning.”

  Simon touched his bruised eye. “Yeah. That was quite the row. I would have taken Wall’s head off, if it wasn’t for the other river boys yanking me back. Thanks for getting her out of there.”

  “So you haven’t seen her since the cabin?”

  “No. She left the bunkhouse to use the bathroom. When she didn’t return, I figured she’d met up with you.”

  Garrett pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. This woman was proving to be even more difficult than he’d initially thought. He fell silent, as he usually did when he needed to think, rather than react.

  “We need to find her, just to be certain,” he stated once he gained his composure.

  Simon turned. “I’ll take the outhouses.”

  “I’ll check the lake.” Garrett headed toward the path with Simon trailing behind. “Meet back at camp once you’ve found her.”

  “Right.” Simon ran off in the opposite direction.

  Garrett took the trail as fast as he could. She was instructed to stay with him, Aunt June, or Simon. She wasn’t at camp. Where the hell did she go?

  He stopped for a second as he registered the scene before him. The boom logs had once again been cut, and at least half of what had remained of the logs from the last incident now made a trail toward the river. How long had the raft been open?

  Fixing the boom logs by running over the top of them would be way too dangerous at this point, so he ran to the bateau, threw it into the water, and began to row to the trouble spot. Large tree trunks bumped against the hull and made the boat rock dangerously. Digging the oar deep into the water, he used the skill taught by years of practice to maneuver between the rocketing debris, and slide the bateau into open water. It took only a few seconds to pull up next to the damaged boom logs.

  His muscles flexed and stretched to their limit as he worked to get control of the opening and tie it together. He fought against the power of the current as it claimed the logs in its powerful tentacles.

  Once finished, he stood and assessed the damage. All the hard work the men had done to rejuvenate the numbers from the incident before were pointless as over half the raft now drifted down the river. Who would do this, and how did no one witness the offense?

  Bloody hell! Garrett tried not to punch the side of the bateau as he took up the oars and started toward the bank.

  A better question was where in the world was Beth?

  Yanking the boat to shore, he ran back to the meeting place as Simon passed the cook fire, headed in his direction.

  He met up with him near Aunt June’s cabin.

  “She’s not here, Simon!” Garrett paced in front of his friend in the center of camp for everyone to hear. He didn’t care. Fear clenched at his chest and made a lump the size of a monkey fist catch in his throat. “Where the hell is she?”

  Simon raised his palms out in surrender, the golden glow of the campfire shined off his slightly tanned hands. “I don’t know, Gar. I’ll wager she’s fine. Probably went off somewhere to be alone.”

  “No. I can feel it in my gut. The logs were loose. Beth is missing. I can’t help but think the two are connected.” He stopped pacing and turned to his friend. “You don’t think she cut the boom logs open, do you?”

  “No. My sister may be one of the socialites in town, but she’s not brainless like most of them.”

  “What the hell is going on?” Aunt June stomped her leather-soled toes against the pebbles on the dirt, making a clicking sound loud enough for Garrett to hear. “What do you mean where’s Beth? Aren’t you two guarding her?”

  “Who’s Beth?” Wall asked as he and the other rivermen made their way to Garrett. They all stood with backs straight and chests expanded. Wall continued, “You’re in a right fit state, Gar, and that’s never a good sign. What happened, and who is Beth?”

  “What?” Carrie elbowed her way into the small crowd formed around him and Simon.

  “Beth is my sister,” Simon confessed, “and right now she’s missing.”

  “We’ve never seen your sister before,” Blue called from the back of the crowd.

  “Brent is Beth.” Simon stood taller and puffed out his chest.

  “What are you saying?” Wall shook his head in confusion.

  “She was posing as a man so she could work as a logger.” Simon’s chest rose with a deep breath. He clenched his fists and shifted his feet. “The logistics aren’t important. We need to find her.”

  “Goddamn it, Simon. Why the hell didn’t you tell us?” Clint shouted as the rest of the men mumbled their displeasure and shoved to get a better look at the center.

  “Having a woman on the crew is bad luck!” Luther yelled.

  Garrett silenced the men with a wave of his hand. “We can talk about this another day. Right now, there is a woman missing in the woods, or God forbid on the water. She was last seen in the cabin, but left presumably to use the outhouse. Did anyone see her right before chow?”

  Luther raised his hand, his face blank with indifference. “I saw her over by the lake. She was on the raft. Didn’t know she was a woman, though, boss. I swear. If I had, I would have told her to get off the raft. The river ain’t no place for a woman. I’ll bet she’s the one who’s been cutting the boom logs. Just like a woman, always causin’ problems.”

  “She was on the raft?” A whistle like the one that warned of a disaster in the trees went off in his head.

  Luther nodded. “Last I saw.”

  “Did you happen to see her, or anyone else, cut the line to the boom logs?”

  “Na. I was only passin’ through on my way to chow.”

  “Goddamn it! She’s got to be down the river. Pray she’s down the river, and we don’t find her body washed up on the shore.” He shoved his way through the men to head
back to the lake.

  “Where are you going, Gar?” Simon emerged from the throng of men.

  Garrett stopped and skimmed over the crowd. Carrie’s shoulders shook for a second before she burst into tears.

  “Take care of her,” he told Simon. “I’m going down the river.”

  “You can’t.” Wall stepped up and stopped him by placing a hand in the center of his chest. “There’s only a few minutes left of dusk, and then it will be too dark to see. You’ll get killed.”

  “She is going to die out there if I don’t. I can’t let that happen. Everyone will be out in the night until she’s found. Everyone.” He made his point by accentuating the last word. He had to find Beth. He would die if anything happened to her. She was his soul. He passed a glance over the stone-faced Victoria. At this point he didn’t care if she discovered how he felt about Beth.

  “Garrett,” Aunt June whispered, placing a hand on his forearm. “I’m sending someone to notify the mill. If they stay on the path and ride through the night, they can get there in time for the morning whistle.”

  He nodded. The men at the mill needed to be on the lookout for Beth—or her body.

  Chapter 12

  Beth shivered as she trudged through the knee-high water toward the bank. The log she’d clung to for the last few hours finally entered flat water and floated close enough to the bank for her to leap off and swim to shore without getting crushed by a nearby log.

  The late spring weather and run-off from the snow-capped mountains made her shiver. She wished she’d somehow managed to maneuver the log to the beach instead of swim. She was soaked, alone, and probably close to death.

  She stumbled up the incline and hugged herself as tightly as she could. What was she going to do? The darkness had settled in long before she stumbled onto the bank, and now the sounds of the night made her want to swim back onto the log and ride it the rest of the way down, although her screaming muscles told her that even if she did catch another log, she wouldn’t be able to hold on any longer.

  Picking up a long stick, she tried to stop shivering as she poked at a bush. A large tree stood next to the dark vegetation with what looked—through the haze of night—to be a hole in the trunk, and one big enough for her to take shelter while she figured out what to do.

  She poked the bush again, only to jump back when it shook in response.

  The gentle chattering coo of a raccoon and putter of small receding feet filled the night, and the knot in Beth’s throat dropped back down to her stomach.

  She prodded the bush once more. Without hearing another sound, she turned to poke at the hole in the trunk. When no animals slithered or skittered out, she settled down in the crevice and pulled her knees to her chest to hug the warmth back into her body. She needed to get dry and stay warm. She needed a fire.

  Tears filled her eyes.

  How in the blazes do you make a fire?

  She’d always seen her brother do it in the fireplace at home, but never actually built one herself. What did he say to do? Light a matchstick? She didn’t have one. What else did he say? A fire steel? She didn’t have one of those either. She did have wood readily available, and lots of it.

  She scurried out of her shelter and searched the dark ground for rocks for the fire ring and kindling. Once her pile was high enough to provide an adequate fire, she sat back down and built a stone ring at least half the size of Garrett’s earlier that day.

  Piling the twigs in the center, she chose two large pieces and rubbed them together.

  She worked the sticks until her arms burned like they had enough heat to shoot flames from her fingers.

  She gave herself a quick break, and then started again.

  She didn’t know how much time had gone by, but the tears she’d pushed to the back of her eyes spilled like a waterfall. It was hopeless.

  She tossed down her sticks and curled up into a ball, making herself as small as possible in the hollowed-out tree trunk, grateful for the small amount of warmth Garrett’s large coat allowed. There was no telling what creatures moved about in the branches and leaves above her head, but as long as they didn’t have fangs or a hunger for human supper, she would deal with it. She wasn’t afraid. Never afraid.

  Except right now.

  She drew her legs closer to her chest once more and gently sobbed. Why had she done this? She wasn’t as strong and able as a man, no matter what she’d believed. She wasn’t a riverman. She was a socialite. Her nana and brother had given her the best gift they could. They made her a lady of the first water, coddled by those she loved, and given whatever she wished for in life. Why did she think she could pull this off?

  Dear God. Please help me live through tonight.

  A loud noise behind the tree made chill bumps run down her spine. Whatever was out there, wasn’t a raccoon.

  * * * *

  Garrett used the peavey to push his way through the dark water. The only thing visible along the bank was the slightly darker outline of the trees against the starry night sky. Any movement hidden in the dense thicket was masked by the blackness.

  “Beth!” Simon shouted from the front of the bateau. He had demanded to accompany him on the trip down the river.

  In truth, his friend’s presence was reassuring, like between the two of them, they would find her. No one else in camp wanted or cared for her as much as they did. The only problem was the damned blackness. They couldn’t see two feet in front of the boat, let alone a few yards into the trees on the river bank.

  They’d floated almost all night with no luck. Garrett slumped into the bottom of the boat in defeat. “Maybe we should pull up on shore. Walk a little ways to see if we can get a better sense of things. I’ve been riding this river for years. I know it as well as I do my childhood bedroom, but I have no idea where we are on it right now.”

  “Only until you get your bearings, and then we float again. If Beth did ride a log down, and is still clinging to it, there’s no telling how far she’s gone.” His friend’s voice cracked, and the pitch changed as if he forced back tears. “I can’t lose my sister. I was a fool for letting her come. I cared more about my reputation in town than her safety. What a brother I’ve been. My parents died because of my foolish behavior and now maybe my sister.”

  “You’ve never spoken of your parents before.” Garrett leapt from the boat and pulled it to shore. With luck they would find Beth soon, but in the meantime he needed to distract his friend—or perhaps even himself—from the tense emotions swirling around them in the pre-dawn mist.

  Simon climbed out. “I was young, I think nine, when my parents decided to take us huckleberry picking near Rattlesnake Creek. A neighbor girl’d just gotten a new pup and invited me over to see it. Mother and Father didn’t care and took their time with the berries. I got mad, and when they weren’t looking, I started to walk down the mountain toward Missoula. Well, I didn’t tell them or nothin’, so they got frantic looking for me. Pa took a corner a little too sharp for our buggy, and they wrecked. Beth was the only one who survived.”

  “Beth said something about the carriage accident once when we were training.” What else could he say? His friend had always met life with a smile and confidence the size of the mountain they logged. Never would he have thought such a tragedy existed in both Beth and Simon’s lives. What strength they must possess, not only the physical kind, but strength of mind and heart.

  “What I need to concentrate on now is doing right by my sister, but first we need to find her. Do you know where we are?”

  Garrett did a quick search of what he could see in the night. Not much. He was hoping for an odd rock formation, tree bent a certain way, something to signify where they’d landed along the river. Nothing. His shoulders dropped. “No. I think we may be near the rock cliffs, but I’m not certain.”

  “Do you want to search upstream, or down?”

>   “Let’s leave the bateau here and go downstream. It will be light in about an hour, and we’ll turn around and come back up. Just in case we missed her.”

  Simon started to follow the river and called out, “Beth!”

  They both paused to listen. Silence.

  The more time that passed without finding Beth, the deeper Garrett’s heart sank into a lake of despair. She had to be alive. He couldn’t lose her.

  Simon sighed, and they continued to follow the river.

  “What’s going on with you, Gar?” Simon asked after a few moments of quiet.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know things are difficult this year, but you seem distracted. Different. You usually have no problem fixing problems.”

  How much should he tell his friend? He didn’t want to spend the next few months talking about leaving. He wanted to enjoy what little time he had left. “I won’t be coming back next year.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I will be settling down in town and taking over my father’s business.”

  “But you love being a Devil May Care.”

  “I do.” The one thing in his life he valued as much as he did his family was the loggers he worked with. Walking away from the spring camp would be hard, but necessary. He wouldn’t be far away from the mountain, but he would no longer be a part of the crew. No longer have a reason to see Beth at the end of the summer, standing on the platform, waiting for Simon. If she was alive, that is. “I’m trying to find my replacement.”

  Simon moved ahead of him as the trail thinned. “Is that why you let Wall lick you when you fought? I wondered why he bested you.”

  “If it wasn’t for the whistle, he would now be the leader of the Devil May Cares, and I would be sitting in the bateau wondering why I let your sister stay.”

  Simon walked around a bend in the trail and disappeared from sight for a split second before a chilling scream filled the pre-dawn dark.