to do to get home. She tried to click the heels of her sparkly shoes together and make a wish but she had no shoes, and her feet were so cold….
Someone shook her again. Mitch. Mitch was here.
“Lisa, listen to me. I wish we were back at the lodge but we’re not.” He shook her shoulders and squeezed her tighter to him. “You fell in the river. You are hypothermic and you have to get warm. Drink more of this and move your arms and legs.”
It took great effort, but she obeyed. Sore, so sore. But she swallowed a warm, fizzy drink. Champagne? No bottles or glasses were allowed on the beach.
Then she really remembered. Back at the lodge, outside on the lake landing path, she’d been waiting for Mitch. Looking at the roiling water and almost seeing Mother and Jani there, Mother’s face staring up at her through the river foam. And then—
She jolted alert in his arms. Someone had pushed her in! Hadn’t they? No way she had fallen or jumped just because she was thinking about Mother and Jani. Surely Mitch had not pushed her, then rescued her, so he could be a hero, so he could win her back. No, wishful thinking, wishing upon a star. There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home. Home was where your loved ones were. But her loved ones had been swallowed by all that raging white water.
A second jolt shot through her, cosmic compared to anything else except the initial impact of that freezing water. She was in Mitch’s arms, in some sort of bed, and they were both naked.
She tried to sit up. He pulled her back down. Where were they? What had they done? No, no, Mitch was right. She fell in the river, and he must have come after her, saved her. But she fell because she was pushed. But by whom and why?
She went rigid against him. “I’m better, warmer. You can let me go.” She didn’t sound like herself. Her lips were swollen and bruised. She was almost mumbling, stuttering.
“I’d like to believe that, but you were close to comatose. You’ve only been out of the river for about two hours.”
“I—th-thank you. You came in a b-boat?”
“I chased you in the kayak that we were going to take across the lake.”
“Oh.” She tried to process that. Yes, they’d agreed to have a talk, but now this.
“M-Mitch, someone pushed me in the river. I fell down the bank and rolled, but someone pushed me first.”
“You said that.”
“Don’t you believe me?” It came out as Don’t you leave me.
“When we get back, we’ll look into it. I did see the stuff Christine packed for us strewn down the bank toward the river. Why didn’t you go down to the lake landing to wait for me? Didn’t you see or hear anyone?”
“Hear them, with the roar of the river? I—I was just looking at the salmon in the water. My mind is working all right now. I’m better,” she said, shifting away again. She wanted to remember what had happened, but not feel the hopeless panic, the fear of riding the river. Was her memory messed up like her mind?
And Mitch—he felt more solid than she recalled, so good, warm and strong with rock-hard muscles like the ledge under her. Had Alaska done that to him? Yes, he’d looked more bulked up when she’d seen him yesterday after an entire year apart. If it wasn’t a crazy idea, she’d almost think his new life had made him taller, too.
“I’ll see if your clothes are dry, and we’ll get the wet suit on you for warmth, too,” he said. “The little cookstove may warm your hands, but don’t be in too much of a rush to get up. The shock of it—you’ll come back slowly and may have some scrambled thoughts.”
That’s for sure, she told herself, but demanded, “You don’t believe I was pushed in?”
“It’s good you’re getting angry at me. That will get your blood and temp up—and besides, that’s more like picking up where we left off, isn’t it?”
“That’s all past now. I can’t thank you enough for risking the river to come after me. Can’t I just get d-dressed, curl up and sleep for a while? I’m so exhausted. It’s a trauma for both of us.”
“Sure has been, and not just this river ride. But no, you can’t just go to sleep yet. I’m not the doctor in my family, but I know a hypothermic victim shouldn’t do that—too dangerous for a while. I think it’s like having a concussion. My clothes were soaked, too, and you needed core body heat badly, so if you’re wondering why we’re both undressed in here—”
“I knew that. See, I’m compos mentis again.” She had to fight very hard to form thoughts and words. It was like groping for something in the dark. “Thank you, but I’m all r-right now. And if you’re thinking I did really fall in, or just trip—or if you’re thinking what you know about my mother, it isn’t that. Someone pushed me, and I can think of at least two people with motives, maybe more. I wasn’t halluc … hallucinating….”
Her voice trailed off as her thoughts swirled again. Or had she been? Had she actually been pushed in, or had that river lured her, seduced her because, after all was said and done, little Lisa had actually wanted to be with Mommy and Jani? Was little Lisa still terrified that she had sent them right over the edge?
Even though she hadn’t seen her psychiatrist, Dr. Sloan, for years, she heard his voice. “You have to get over the idea you should have died with them or that you caused their fall. I know you blame yourself for not realizing your mother was so sick, but you were just a child. It wasn’t your fault. None of it was your fault.”
Mitch’s voice broke into the memory. “Lisa, can you hear me? Your eyelids fluttered, and you looked as if you were going to pass out again.”
“Only to sleep. I need to sleep.”
“Me, too, but no. We’re miles overland from the lodge and help—from any civilization—so we’re going to have to hike out of here. Just rest here a few more minutes. I’ll get dressed first, if my stuff’s dry. But keep your eyes open and keep talking.”
“I—I don’t have shoes to hike. The river took them.”
“I know. I’ll make you some from our extra PFD, tape pieces of it around your feet.”
“Wow, a guy who understands how girls love shoes.”
He actually chuckled as he moved out of their warm little cocoon. She caught a glimpse of skin and curly, black chest hair. The cold air slammed in on her, and she fumbled to pull the canvas cover closed. But his laugh had warmed her. That and the fact he told her to keep her eyes open while he crawled out naked on the ledge to get dressed. But she didn’t want to give him the idea she cared about him that way, so she pulled the canvas bag closer around her and turned away.
Just business—and survival—between them now. She had to be strong to help get them out of here and so that he could give a good report on her to the Bonners. At the very least they would think she was a klutz for falling in the river. Would they all think she was crazy if she claimed someone had pushed her? Maybe she should tell Mitch she had just imagined it, not tell people what had really happened. Then she could investigate who could have pushed her, set someone up for a confession—or, God forbid, another attempt to eliminate her. But who would be that desperate to get rid
