Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Durango

Willow's been in town for three months. She left Ozzie's after a few weeks and moved into a friend's apartment in Queens. Despite the distance, I still see her fairly often.

At first, when she told me the truth about her and Ozzie, I swore I was done with her. But I couldn't stay away. The more time we spend together, the stronger my feelings have grown for her. She's made it clear that she wants me but isn't ready to date just yet.

"Thanks for the lift," I tell CT as I get into his car.

I flew into SeaTac Airport to meet the guys at Morgan Thompson Security for an assignment we are doing together. Fortunately, CT was available for a ride.

"No problem." He pulls out onto the highway, and the rain is coming down hard.

"I thought the forecast was for light rain today."

He shakes his head. "Not sure where you read that. Unfortunately, it's been coming down hard all week. And it's been warm, so the snow in the mountains has been melting."

Since I'm from Montana, I know what it means if the snow cap melts too fast. "Are the rivers cresting?"

"They are. They've all been in flood stage since last night. You'll see it when we get closer to Pine Valley." Pine Valley is where CT lives and where the Morgan Thompson Security office is located.

CT glances over at me. "What's wrong?"

I laugh. "It's that obvious?"

"It is. And I need your head in the game for this assignment. So, what's going on?"

I tell him about Willow and what happened ten years ago.

"Ouch," CT says. "That's not cool that she used Ozzie like that."

"No, it's not. But she was really remorseful when she told me. And in that moment, I swore I was done with her. I left, never intending to talk to her again."

"But?" CT asks with a grin.

"I still have feelings for her, but she's not ready to date or move beyond friendship. I don't know the full story, but it sounds like things didn't go well with her ex. I'm trying to be patient, but part of me wonders if she is having second thoughts about me."

"How long has she been in New York?" CT asks.

"Months," I say, not wanting to really admit how long it's been.

"Damn, sounds like her ex really hurt her. Is she in therapy?"

I shrug. "I don't know."

The rain comes down harder, and CT turns the windshield wipers on faster.

When I first saw Willow again in Ozzie's apartment, I admit I got excited, thinking I might have my second chance. But then, when she told me why she had a friends-with-benefits relationship with Ozzie, to make me jealous, I was angry. Yes, we were younger, but I don't like games.

I didn't stay angry for long. My cousin, Piper, helped me see things from a different perspective. I have to appreciate the fact that Willow is here now, willing to be honest. She has changed. She's more serious now. And I've changed, too. I'm not the same boy I used to be.

"We've been spending a lot of time together, but whenever I suggest we go on a formal date, she gets weird. Finally, I came out and asked her if she just wanted to be friends. She said no, she wants to date but isn't ready yet."

The car drifts to the left, and CT's knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel. "Hydroplaning," CT says. "There's too much damn water on the roadway." He clears his throat. "Why isn't she ready? Did something happen to her?"

I sigh. "I think so. All she has told me so far is that she was in a bad relationship and is taking her time to deal with it."

"Well, it sounds like she needs to be in therapy if she isn't. Whenever she is ready to date, it sounds like she might still have issues to deal with."

We turn off the highway, following the signs to Pine Valley.

"Who our age isn't dealing with issues?" I ask.

It's hard to get into your mid-thirties and not have some hang-up or baggage. I certainly come with my own. Leaving the service early was hard, and if I'm honest, part of me is still angry about it. I take a deep breath and then slowly blow it out.

As we drive down a two-lane country road, the rain picks up. CT turns the windshield wipers on full blast. It's almost impossible to see at this point.

"We should pull over for a while," I suggest.

"If we can find a place."

He drives slowly for another mile as we look for a turnout, any turnout, but don't find one. But we do find a sign that says, "Road Closed," and it diverts us to the left.

"Wow, that road was open this morning," CT says as he turns onto the new road.

He slams on the brakes. In front of us is a woman holding on to a walker, flagging us down. I roll down my window as CT moves forward slowly.

"Oh, please help me! I need to get my horse into the trailer. My son was going to help me, but he's trapped in his development by flooded roads."

CT pulls into the driveway. "Let's help her. We have time before we need to be at the office."

He parks, and I step out of his car into mud.

The woman sloshes her walker through it and points to the barn. "My horse is in there, and I've got the trailer ready to go. We need to get him inside."

CT pats her on the shoulder. "We'll take care of it. What's your horse's name?"

"Buttons."

"Come on," CT says to me.

At this point, we've been standing outside for two minutes, and we are soaked. I follow him to the barn, where we find Buttons. Fortunately, the horse isn't afraid of strangers, and we're able to get him loaded into the trailer without any issues.

"Thank you so much!" the woman says. But instead of moving toward the truck, she goes toward her house.

I glance at the house, and that's when I spot the river on the backside. CT looks at me and frowns. He runs up to the woman. I follow.

"Hey, shouldn't you be driving out of here while you can?"

"I will as soon as I get my dogs. The water has never been this close to the house before," she says. "I'm scared it's going to keep coming. I can't leave them here." She continues to move toward the front door.

"Let us help you. How many are there?" CT asks.

"Two!" she shouts.

It's harder to hear anything as we keep moving closer to the house and to the river.

She opens the door and whistles. Two large dogs come bounding toward us, barking. CT grabs the collar of one and has a good grip on him. I reach for the collar of the second one, but I'm not braced well enough. He drags me a foot before I go down in the mud. The dog runs away.

"Tiny! You get back here!" the woman yells.

The dog runs around the side of the house. I jump up and go after him. The dog is standing in the middle of the backyard with a stick in his mouth. His tail is wagging, which is a good sign.

"You want to play?" I say as I slowly walk toward him. As I get closer, he takes a step back. "Tiny, come here." I get down on one knee.

The dog takes a step closer. Then another.

"Keep coming," I coax him.

A crow squawks, catching his attention. It flies low and lands at the river's edge. The dog drops the stick and runs to the bird. I chase after.

"No, Tiny, come here!" I command.

The dog dives for the bird, but the crow flies over the river to get away. To my horror, the dog jumps into the river after it. Tiny swims to the middle and must realize his mistake. The current is strong, and it takes him. He's trying to swim against it but failing.

"Oh, please don't let him go!" the woman shouts.

While I might be great in water, rivers are dangerous and unpredictable. But dammit, I can't let this woman's dog die. I spot a downed tree that extends well into the river. I run to it and scoot across.

"Durango!" CT shouts.

I twist in his direction as he throws me a rope. With it in hand, I turn my attention back to Tiny. He's heading toward me and about to go under the tree I'm perched on. I reach down as Tiny passes under and am able to grab him and haul him up onto the tree with me. This is not a light dog by any means, but I'm able to get the rope tied to his collar. CT is standing at the river's edge, and I try to push Tiny toward him as CT pulls on the rope. The dog is scared, but when his owner calls him, he runs down the tree and jumps onto the grass.

CT picks up the dog and darts around the house, likely putting him into the car. I start making my way toward land as well, but a loud crack pierces the air. Uh-oh. That's not good.

There's another crack. The tree is breaking away from the roots.

CT runs back, holding the rope as the tree twists, about to break from its roots and send me downstream. "Catch!" CT throws the rope as the log moves again. It misses, and I can't reach it.

I swear the current has picked up in the short time I've been on this tree.

CT throws the rope again, and I catch it. "Watch out!" CT shouts.

I look upstream in time to see what appears to be part of a wooden shed heading straight for me. I can't get out of the way, and it smacks into my hand and the tree. I lose my grip on the rope, and the tree breaks off from shore.

"Durango!" CT yells.

The current quickly pushes me out of sight of my friend. The shed is against the tree, and I try to climb onto it, but the tree spins, sending me under the water. I try to get above water, but I can't get in front of the log. I push myself against the current, trying to get to the other side of the shed. It's my only chance to get above water. My hands move along the log and over onto the shed. It seems like minutes that I'm under, but it's likely seconds.

The water is freezing, and I have to get my head above water. Finally, my hands find the edge of the shed and reach above the water. I grip something and haul myself up, gasping for air. Now that I can see, I spot a two-by-four that has come partly unattached. I grab it, pulling my body out of the water and onto the top of the shed.

Keeping my eyes on both sides of the river, I look for something I might be able to grab to get away from the strongest part of the current.

About one hundred feet downstream, two men are waving to me. I try to use my body weight to turn the shed in their direction. But it's no use. The water is moving too fast, and I have no control over the structure I'm sitting on.

As I pass the men, they are waving their hands and jumping up and down. One is shouting something. The river is so loud I can't hear. I put my hand to my ear, and he shouts louder.

"Waterfall!" He points in the direction I'm going.

The familiar sound of water rushing down grows louder. I can't see where the water drops off, but I don't have much time. As I pass under a tree, I grab on, hoping to hoist myself up into its branches. But the branch I grab breaks, sending me back onto the shed.

One of the men who was shouting is now running along the river, but he can't keep up. The rushing water grows louder. I glance up and can't see the river beyond about twenty feet in front of me. There are no more trees above me, and I'm in the middle of the river with no way to paddle or get to the edge. Ten feet. I realize I can't see the river because that's where it drops off.

Five feet. I have no choice. I'm going over. All I can do now is brace for impact. With no clue how far this water drops, I have no idea if this shed will remain intact. Hoping for the best, I grab the doorknob at the last minute. And then I see the drop. It's big. Too big for a free fall. I close my eyes as I go over. Please let this be painless.