Down River. Karen Harper
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On Spike Jackson’s plane, flying in from Anchorage to the lodge yesterday, she remembered a strange exchange between him and the Bonners. “So this is some kind of a marathon or endurance test for your candidates?” Spike had asked Graham. Strapped in next to Lisa, Vanessa had strained forward to hear what Graham said over the loud hum of the plane’s single engine.
“Sure, a test of sorts, both with the activities Mitch has on tap for us and some others we have planned,” Graham had said. “We’ll have some group endeavors, some individual efforts.”
Jonas had joked from the single jump seat in the back, next to the pile of luggage, “Like pitting us against an Alaskan bear or wolf in a deep-woods arena?”
“Nonsense,” Ellie Bonner had piped up. From her place next to Spike in the copilot’s seat, she’d twisted around to face the rest of them. “This is not some face-your-worst-fears, Survivor-like game show. Graham and I want you to enjoy yourselves and focus on what are essentially bonding, not competitive experiences.”
“Just so long as she didn’t say ‘bondage,’” Jonas had whispered from the backseat so only Vanessa and Lisa could hear.
But could the Bonners have planned some sort of face-your-worst-fear survival test, and hers just got out of hand? Several years ago, after she came to know and trust both of them, she’d confided in them about her childhood tragedy and trauma over dinner at their home.
No. No, she scolded herself. She had to fight being paranoid, had to fight to show everyone she deserved the senior partner position and that she didn’t want Mitch anymore. Maybe bringing her to face Mitch was really her endurance test, and now, here she was, alone with him and dependent on him. Surely the Bonners—or Mitch—could not have planned or wanted that.
Her head snapped down, then jerked up. She’d almost nodded off, but he hadn’t seen. He was her rescuer, the one who knew the wilds, so for now she would try hard to do what Mitch said. She chatted, even chattered, tried to answer his questions about how she felt. She was bruised and battered all over but grateful no bones were broken. She was absolutely aching for sleep. But she had to cooperate so he could get them back to civilization, back to safety at the lodge. But, since—if—someone had pushed her, was it really civilized or safe there?
4
Mitch knew they had to get off the ledge. He had planned to spend the night here, but if he made Lisa get up and walk, she’d have to stay awake. He was also exhausted and feared he’d fall asleep. The worst scenario was that he’d have to hike out for help alone, but no way could he leave her near the river that could have killed her.
Besides, when he explored, edging along a narrow curve of cliff face, he was excited to discover a cleft in the gorge rocks, one he could even glimpse sky through. On one side of the cleft was a ledge where they could make their way out. From flying over the area with Spike, he knew that beyond these rocks lay not only muskeg, a shallow bog, but dry tundra. And he knew that, because of the contour of the land near the lodge, it would take them days to hike directly back to the west.
So if they could get beyond this gorge, they would go east, then ford the river below the falls where it was divided into braided streams that were much more shallow. The salmon had easier going there, and they would, too. On the other side of the Wild River was a dirt access road, which might have some traffic from fishermen or hunters who could give them a ride back home. But he wouldn’t tell Lisa all that right now. Finally, he was making decisions for her as he had for so many others.
But, unfortunately, like a few other clients Mitch had defended, he questioned if she was a trustworthy witness of what had actually happened to her. He just couldn’t accept Lisa’s claim she’d been pushed into the river. Who at the lodge would be that desperate and dangerous? Opportunity for that must have been pure chance, and what would be a motive? Surely not just this competition among colleagues the Bonners had set up.
If Lisa had hit her head in a tumble down the slope near the lodge, she could have just thought she was pushed—or be lying about it so she didn’t look careless or reckless to him and the Bonners. No, she wouldn’t be that devious to gain sympathy, even if she’d always been ambitious.
Granted, she had been haunted by the drowning deaths of her mother and baby sister for years. He was sure, though she’d denied it, she’d been suicidal years ago, survivor’s guilt and all that. But to think of her jumping in of her own accord was as crazy as the idea she’d been pushed.
Whatever had happened to get her in the Wild River, they had to risk the ledge over the chasm to get away from it right now. Even if rescuers rafted or kayaked down the river after them, their attempting to land on the ledge where they were hemmed in could be deadly, or they might shoot right on by toward the falls.
“Lisa!” He hurried back to her. She sat slumped on the ledge with her back to the rock face. Upset she’d fallen asleep even sitting up, he shook her shoulders. “I see a way we can walk out. I think we should go now, since we’ve lost the sun on the ledge. And if the river rises even more, we’d get more than wet here. I’m going to fill our empty cans with water and get things together. Can you get dressed by yourself?”
“Yes. Yes, of course,” she insisted, sounding and looking annoyed right back at him. “I’m just f—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re fine!”
“And don’t try to read my mind! I’m just feeling a bit funny but more alert—that’s what I was going to say.”
“Sorry I jumped to conclusions.”
“Since you only saved my life today, you’re forgiven—for that,” she grumbled.
That warmed him, not only because her spirited response sounded more like her but that she was grateful. She’d thanked him already, but he’d felt so guilty for so long about throwing a fire bomb into her life and then leaving Florida, that maybe, just maybe, what he’d done here could begin to make up for it. Not that he wanted her back—for sure not that—but it might make him feel less of a heel. On the other hand, he thought, hardening his heart when he realized he wanted to hold her, if she’d really loved him in the first place, she’d have understood and maybe even come with him to Alaska, taken a leave of absence, or visited the lodge on her own—at least given it a shot. He sure wasn’t the only one to blame for their breakup.
The moment stretched out between them as, both frowning, they looked deep into each other’s eyes while the river roared.
“We’re partners at least for getting out of here safely,” he said, then cleared his throat when his voice caught. “And when we get back, we’ll look into what really happened to you.”
She started to say something, then just nodded.
“I’ll pack our stuff,” he added, taking his Swiss Army knife out of his jeans pocket so he had something to do with his hands rather than touch her again. He rose and moved a few feet away on the ledge. “I’ll cut up our extra PFD for your feet.”
“I’m hungry enough that I could eat a piece of a PFD!”
He tried to grin but he knew it was more a grimace. She was not the only one who felt stiff all over. “We’ll have to stick with some of Christine’s dried salmon. Not sure