Page 24 of A Surefire Love
If the canoe launch was one of the last things Blaze saw before she died, at least the area was pretty. The creek glistened, and tall grasses and trees rustled in the breeze.
“Who knows how to swim?” Anson asked.
Blaze rolled her lips inward as her fingers latched onto the straps of her life jacket. Not only could she not raise her hand, but nightmares about drowning and slimy sea creatures had deprived her of so much sleep the night before that she felt a little like she was floating. Would that translate to floating if she capsized? Unlikely. The life jacket had better work.
Around her, the students raised their hands to indicate they could swim. Other than Blaze, the only hold outs were Mercy and the high schoolers who’d paid extra to rent kayaks.
Anson’s eyes tracked the kayakers as they unloaded their boats and carried them to the launch. “And who knows how to steer a canoe?”
Again, Blaze kept both hands lowered.
With a clunk, Carter situated his kayak’s nose in the water.
“Hey, guys, hold up until we’re all ready to go,” Anson said.
“We won’t go far.” Carter slid his paddle into the seat and nestled a fully loaded backpack into the cargo space behind the small backrest.
His four friends lined up behind him.
Meanwhile, one of the guides from the outfitter took up station beside Anson, waiting his turn to address the group. Two other guides continued lining up the canoes.
Carter hopped into his kayak. Anson excused himself from the group and went over to deal with him.
The guide, a teenager in board shorts and a T-shirt, focused on the leaders. “There’s not much to know today. Follow the black-and-white arrows on the trees when you come to a fork, but when in doubt, keep going downstream. Just past the pick-up point, there’s a bridge that’s too low to pass under, so you can’t miss it. The picnic area is also pretty obvious—it has picnic tables.”
A few people chuckled.
Blaze fought with the mental picture of being brushed out of her canoe by a low bridge. Her banana-and-coffee breakfast churned in her stomach.
“Just before the picnic area is the one tricky spot on the route, the S-curve. There, it gets narrower and twists. To keep it exciting, there are two trees that decided to come down, like, in the curvy part. Just stick to the middle and you’ll be fine. ’Kay?”
Most definitely not.
“Thanks so much.” Ray, one of the Branching Out leaders, shook the guide’s hand.
Why were they even called guides? They weren’t joining the group on the stream. The vans that carried the group and all the canoes and kayaks to the launch rumbled to life, and the last guide scrambled inside with a jaunty wave. Moments later, she was officially stranded—no way forward but the boats.
She trailed the others toward the water. Carter and his friends were already out of sight. Sydney and some high school students launched next. Anson stood at the water’s edge, getting kids settled into canoes and assigning leaders to pairings.
The group dwindled, and the knots in Blaze’s stomach cinched tighter and tighter.
“I want to ride with AmeliaandHadley.” Mercy’s voice sounded distant, as if Blaze’s head was under a pillow.
“Sorry, but you girls are going to have to split up.” Anson dragged another canoe into place. “Only three people can ride in a canoe. Since you can’t swim, Mercy, you’ll have to stay with Blaze.”
Mercy’s laugh obliterated the imaginary pillow, and her next statement blared like a tornado siren. “Blaze can’t swim or steer either.” The girl hooked her thumbs in the straps of her life jacket and stuck one knobby knee to the side as she shifted her weight. “She’s afraid of water.”
Anson’s gaze swung to Blaze. Hadn’t he noticed her clinging to her life jacket for dear sanity when he’d polled the group? He rested his hands on his hips, near where his white T-shirt met his green swimming trunks.Afraid?He mouthed the question, as though subtlety were still an option.
She struggled to keep her chin up as memories of her nightmares made her shift her feet. In some of the dreams, seaweed encased her ankles and pulled her under. In others, fish attacked. Logically, neither thing would happen. Emotionally, she wasn’t ready to risk it. She tugged her life vest tighter. Underneath, the waterproof pouch holding her phone bit into her collarbone.
Anson scanned the dwindling crowd at the canoe launch. Ray was about to push away from the sandy bank with two Branching Out students until Anson motioned him to stop. “Can you hang back?”
Anson, Ray, and Nolan talked among themselves, then Ray paddled away with the last two boys.
Hadley clung to Mercy. “Please, Pastor Anson? Let us stay together.”
Mercy grabbed Amelia’s hand. “I’ll sit on the floor. I don’t need a seat.”
