30. Angie

Chapter 30

Angie

W ater rushed over a rock, jutting out in the middle of the river. It amazed me how clear it could be, yet the river became murky, a deep olive-green color, when looking at it in its entirety. As if the sediments dumping into it took away its clarity.

Oh, how I could relate. Normally, I didn’t struggle with sleeping; however, the last couple of nights, I’d found myself waking up and staring at my bedroom ceiling. Debt. The farm. Papa’s illness. Family. What would Mama do when the cancer took Papa from us? Loneliness. Dan. My job. Remi. My feelings for him … All these sediments weighed on me and robbed me of direction. I wandered the meandering paths of possibilities at night.

If Remi didn’t work for CDC and I didn’t own the land they wouldn’t rest trying to buy until it was theirs, then what would our relationship look like? If he believed in marriage then maybe, just maybe, I’d be with him instead of Dan.

All the pebbles weighing me down lifted for an infinitesimal moment. Remi lifted my worries. He’d find solutions to my problems and be there to wrap his arms around me, let me cry on his chest when they couldn’t be solved. Like Papa’s cancer.

I yearned for Remi to be a possibility. But he said himself, he’d never marry. What he wanted from me was to scratch the itch he couldn’t ignore until another one came along. Tears gathered in the base of my eyes. I blinked them away.

A breeze rustled the leaves and wispy branches of the willow tree next to me. Today was the Fourth of July, and for the first time, I skipped the parade in town, which usually consisted of a shiz-ton of tractors, livestock, and classic cars. Papa didn’t feel up to going this morning, and I didn’t want to field the pitying looks or condolences given as if Papa had already died. In lieu of festivities, I’d gone out and worked the fields with Remi before dawn.

Then, at Remi’s insistence that the holiday needed celebrated, we’d changed into swimming suits and come here.

The crackling heat between us had only grown since the taste we’d had of each other. An appetizer that hadn’t fully satisfied either of us. Props to Remi, though. I’d clarified that I wanted him to stay away from me, and he’d kept his distance.

He was as good as the fourth and final hot Chris, Chris Evans. On and off-screen, Chris not only had the looks, but he also had the sensitivity and generosity to go with it. Over the course of the past few months, Remi had proven he possessed attributes of all the Chris’s.

My eyelids sagged, and I leaned my head against the rough bark of the willow tree behind me. I drifted in and out of sleep. I was in the bubble bath, ear buds in place, and sounds of nature, the rushing river, resounded in my head. Steam clouded the mirror. Strong hands rubbed the tight knots in my neck, then dipped beneath the water, following my spine to my lower back and the upper curve of my bottom. The touch of his fingertips on my shoulders replaced by his lips.

Bubbles clung to my arm as I lifted it and curved it around my husband’s neck. I angled my head back and met the dark irises, deep and rich golden-brown eyes of … Remi.

I jerked upright, fully awake.

Crab nuggets! Remi’d invaded my fantasies like a computer virus. Too bad I couldn’t shut down, reboot myself, and get rid of him. I grudgingly admitted I’d miss him. He made my life so much more complicated, yet interesting, messy, and thrilling … And, blast it; he wasn’t easy to deny.

Remi came to sit next to me on the bank of the river, wearing a green and grey swimming suit. He kept his top-half covered with a T-shirt, much to my disappointment.

No! Not disappointed. Thrilled. Couldn’t be more pleased. Ecstatic, in fact, that he wore a shirt. The more he remained covered, the easier I’d be able to regain control of my imagination.

Considering our attire, I already guessed we’d be doing something in the water, but he didn’t remove anything from his truck bed.

Which left … cliff jumping? Oh dang—I hoped not.

“What’s in store for today?” Resisting the temptation to shield myself from him, I lounged back against a rock in my one-piece, navy-blue bathing suit, grateful for the shorts covering more of my body from his view. Still, considering where my mind wandered during my brief nap, I felt naked.

“It’s a surprise. Just waiting on a couple of people, and we’ll be ready.” He bent his knees and leaned his elbows on them. Grabbing a twig, he drew designs in the dirt.

His beard, trimmed shorter with the hotter temperatures, framed his chin, tempting me to touch it—to rub my cheek on it and remind myself how it felt on my skin. That was definitely on the ‘not allowed to do with Remi’ list.

Mid-morning sunshine crested the canyon rim and chased me further into the shade of the willow tree, the temperatures creeping into the eighties. Slight breezes carried smells of sagebrush, occasional wafts of stagnant water, and scents of Remi’s fresh-cut-cedar deodorant mixed with his sweat. Somehow, Remi’d become a proficient farmer, and repeatedly surprised me with his work ethic.

Although, I suspected he hired a workforce, I couldn’t prove it, but what he accomplished would be impossible alone. I couldn’t break him. The closer to harvest we got, with Remi hurdling every obstacle I threw at him, I began to panic.

Would I sell my childhood memories, a hundred years of family history, over some bet?

I couldn’t. It sickened me to think of backing out of an agreement, but I had to. I couldn’t handle losing Papa and my land. Every square inch of the property had been plowed, fertilized, planted, watered, and maintained by me, forming an unbreakable bond.

And then there was the conflict of Remi to consider. I wanted him gone. I wanted him to stay forever.

“Why don’t you believe in marriage?” The question spewed from my mouth before the thought of it had fully formed.

He lifted his gaze to meet mine for a millisecond, then he went back to contemplating his drawing in the dirt. Seconds stretched to minutes.

“I was five …”

His response was so soft I had to strain to hear him over the water.

“… when I first walked in on my dad having an affair with another woman. Didn’t take much longer before I figured out my mother had a string of lovers too. My home wasn’t like yours. Sure, my parents spoiled me with stuff, but love was lacking.”

I remained silent, afraid that if I spoke, he’d stop. Since our kiss, I sensed a shift in him. Of course, I’d been staying away from him as much as possible. It seemed like he manufactured reasons to be with me, like that blessed burger on my last shift, but he hadn’t tried to kiss me again.

My body hated him for it, but I couldn’t be the one to break first. I had to stay strong. Okay, maybe those sleepless nights had been caused by my subconscious wandering to that moment—his hand traveling to my waistband—only in my dream, I didn’t stop him …

“I guess I don’t see the point of getting married. At least I didn’t.” He stopped sifting the twig through the dirt and locked eyes with mine.

Words weren’t necessary to communicate what I saw in his deep-brown eyes. The breeze picked up, tugging a strand of my hair free. Remi brushed it back into place, moving his hand to cup my chin and tipping my head further up. I froze, and while I appeared to have halted all movement, my insides became a percussion section in a middle school band.

“Since being here, I can see the appeal of being with one woman for the rest of my life,” he whispered in my ear.

I couldn’t look away from him, and yet doubts seeped in. Why would this amazing, charismatic, caring man—who happened to be a millionaire—choose me?

I enjoyed the feel of his body next to me and despite the warm air, chills flowed from where our bare thighs touched. Sounds of the gurgling river and calls from meadowlarks and killdeer receded as all my senses fixated on him.

My chest expanded with my deep breath, and I savored our contact.

“Angie, I—” He stopped, even though I waited to hear what he had to say.

His thumb traced the line of my jaw, my bottom lip, and my cheek. I closed my eyes, savoring his touch, anticipating the pressure of his lips on mine—alarmed by how much I yearned for it.

Why, oh, why did I always fall for the wrong guy?

Tires crunching against gravel pulled me out of the cocoon Remi had woven around me. My eyes flicked open. Remi’s breaths still fluttered against my face as he slowly dropped his hand, allowing me to drift further from him.

Daniel , I reminded myself. I would see Daniel in a few days, and his goals matched mine. He wanted a family. It wouldn’t be good to be hung up on Remi the entire time I was with Dan.

Disappointment and longing collided in every one of Remi’s non-verbal cues. The slight sag in his shoulders, the way he didn’t relinquish his hand immediately, and his eyes spoke volumes. It almost made me sad as I stood and pushed the willowy branches aside to see better who’d joined us.

“Myles?” Remi’s friend towed a trailer with a raft in it, and next to him, in the cab were … my parents. I turned back to Remi. “Why are they here?”

I hadn’t told Mama or Papa about my ‘adventures with Remi’ as I liked to call them. Mama would have a heart attack, and Papa would lecture me on unnecessary risk.

“Believe it or not, your dad asked to do this.” Remi walked past me to assist Papa from the truck.

With as much care as if Papa was his own father, Remi gently gripped Papa’s forearm and waited for Mama to come to his other side. Once again, my eyes clouded with tears. Over the last couple of weeks, Papa had become much weaker, a constant reminder we would be forced to say goodbye sooner than I ever planned.

I swallowed around the lump in my throat and forced a smile. For the remainder of the time we had, come hell or high water, I would make the most of it.

Myles opened a reclining camp chair near the spot where Remi and I had been sitting, and Mama and Remi deposited Papa in the chair. Remi must have bought that specific chair to allow my father the most comfort. I walked to Mama, who rested a hand on Papa’s shoulder while Myles and Remi unloaded the raft.

Life vests were then retrieved from the trailer, and Remi handed a bright pink one with black accents to me. Despite my best efforts, I wiped at the tears that slid along my cheek, attempting to hide it by slipping my arms into the vest. But of course, Remi noticed, in tune with me as ever.

He moved to me and helped me zip it closed, giving me a reassuring squeeze on my shoulder. Myles assisted Papa into his, first taking off his ratty flannel, carefully laying it on the back of the chair, then making sure his straps were tightened. They chit chatted around me while I struggled to get ahold of my emotions.

I hadn’t seen Papa this happy since his cancer had come out of remission. Nothing made him look forward to another day as time marched forward. How many times this week had I begged the clock to stop to allow me more time with my Papa? But it never listened. Dawn would come, followed by night, taking another precious day with it.

Myles pushed the raft into the water and called to us. Nerves overtook my melancholic thoughts. I didn’t like water, especially water in Snake River with its hidden eddies and dangerous currents.

Hiding my fear, I let my feet carry me to the water’s edge. I looked back at Papa. “Are you sure about this?”

His face brightened with his smile. “I haven’t been this excited in years. This has always been on my bucket list.”

“Then why haven’t we gone sooner? I thought you were afraid of doing anything remotely dangerous.” I looked from him to Mama, who stood on the water’s edge, clutching her vest in a white-knuckled grip.

“The farm kept me busy, and your mother isn’t a fan of water …” He cupped one hand around the side of his mouth and leaned toward me. “Or anything not safe,” he finished in a loud whisper.

Mama whapped Papa gently on his shoulder. “Hey, nothing wrong with a good dose of fear. Keeps me from doing dumb things like this.” She gestured to the swirling current.

“It’ll be okay. We’re in good hands.” Papa rubbed Mama’s arm that still rested on his shoulder.

Remi helped Papa stand and slowly walk toward the small raft. Handing us both a paddle, Myles instructed me and my mother to straddle the raft. Flinching, I looped a leg over the blue rubber and dipped my sandaled foot into the opaque water. For Papa, I would float the river and keep my terror under control.

I looked at Mama. She sat across from me, her lips in a tight line, and she hugged the paddle to her chest.

Myles helped Remi situate Papa in the center, causing the raft to bob up and down.

“I’ll meet you at the end of the run,” Myles said.

“Thanks,” Remi called to him as Myles jogged to the truck.

After showing Mama and me how to paddle in sync and teaching us how to sit properly, Remi moved to the back and pushed us into the current.

Frigid water rushed over my submerged sandal as we glided over its swirling depths.

“You okay, Mama?” I asked. My own heart thudded in my throat.

She let out her breath and nodded, a smile wavering on her lips.

“I’m going to need you to paddle through this first set of rapids. Remember if you fall off, keep your legs straight, relax, and go with the flow of the river. Don’t fight it.”

“ Rapids? ” I asked in a high-pitched screech.

We rounded a bend, and the now-visible white caps almost made me drop my paddle.

“Oh, hell no.” I paddled backward, causing the boat to spin.

“Forward paddle. We don’t want to hit these sideways.” An urgency hung in Remi’s words that terrified me.

“Angie …” Mama’s scared voice carried to me over the sound of the river.

“It’s okay.” Papa touched my shoulder. “You’re tougher than this river.”

When I glanced at him, it was as if his illness had left him. New life had been breathed into him. His face split into a wide grin; he was ready to take on what lay ahead … even if I wasn’t.

Trembling and holding my breath, I put my full force into the paddle, bringing the nose around. We hit the first rapid. The raft lifted and fell, jarring my leg inside the boat free. I lost grip on the paddle and fell into the churning water. I sucked in a deep breath.

Cold and darkness engulfed me.

For the millionth time since Remi had come into my life, a single thought stabbed through my brain: I’m going to die.

I AM GOING TO EFFING DIE.

I rammed against a rock, which sent me rolling in the churning water.

My lungs burned.

I couldn’t breathe.

Reaching in any direction, I tried to find something to pull me to the surface.

Nothing.

I’m going to die.

The strong current tossed me about like a rag doll.

Remi’s voice came to me. Calm and steady. Relax. Keep your legs straight. Don’t fight.

Then my Papa’s. You’re tougher than this river.

Closing my eyes, I stabilized my mind, stiffened my legs, and grabbed the shoulder straps of my life vest.

Then, I submitted to the chaos around me, trusting it to bring me above water. The world around me grew lighter. I broke the surface and gasped for air.

“Angie!” Two strong hands gripped my life vest and pulled me into the boat. “Are you okay?”

I coughed and fell back onto the plastic base of the raft next to my father. The sun blinded me as I continued gulping in air. I wanted to yell, Get me out of here! But then Papa leaned over me, blocking the sun. I couldn’t ruin this for him.

“Never been better,” I croaked. Leaning on Remi, I made it back to my position on the edge. I checked on Mama. Her hair was still dry, but she held the paddle like her life depended on it. Thank goodness she hadn’t gone in with me.

Remi maneuvered the raft to where my paddle floated in an eddy. We retrieved it in time to face off with the next gauntlet. Rivulets of water trailed down my body, cooling me in the bright sunshine. I’d already survived falling off the boat. Holding my chin up, I challenged the rapids.

“Bring it on,” I whispered.

At the same time, Remi hollered, “Forward paddle!”