She pressed two fingertips against her temple.
“Britt.” He gestured angrily. “Don’t make me drag it out of you. I need—I need to know what happened, so tell me. Please. Everything.”
She dropped her hand. “I was paddling the gorge—”
“Alone?”
“Yes. As you know, I sometimes go out alone when my paddling friends aren’t available.”
“Water conditions?”
“High,” she admitted, chin lifted. “There’d been a good deal of rain.”
“Britt,” he growled, infusing her name with censure.
“That section of the river is only class two.”
“Class two plus,” he corrected, “when it hasn’t rained. The run-off makes the gorge unpredictable—”
“—and dangerous,” she snapped. “Yes. I’m aware.” She’d already received this sermon from her doctors, parents, sisters, friends. She’d even heard it from Mike, the guy that sold adventure sports equipment to her. Their sermons had been unnecessary because she’dlivedthe lesson. The river and her painful recovery had been excellent teachers.
Thick clouds swept in front of the sun. “What happened?” he asked.
“I went wide around the bend at the basalt wall.”
He acknowledged that he knew the place with a nod.
“That area has always been clear before. But this time, a tree had fallen into the water. It was mostly submerged, and by the time I saw it, I couldn’t avoid it.”
His mouth tightened.
“My efforts to free myself only made it worse, and before I knew it, the current had pushed me underwater and against the branches.”
“A strainer.”
“Yes. I managed to grab hold of my kayak. I yanked it hard, and it swung out. The river pulled it down river and dragged me out.”
“And?”
“I hung on until the water slowed, then kicked over to that spit of land in the center of the river.” She didn’t mention that crawling onto the island had been agonizing. “I had my life vest on and my phone was in its waterproof case, but there was no service at that spot.”
The earlier color in Zander’s cheeks was rapidly leaching to white. “Go on.”
“Maddie was having lunch nearby that day and had offered to pick me up at the take-out point. She waited for an hour past the time when we’d agreed to meet, then called the police. About an hour after that, they found me by helicopter.”
He swore under his breath.
She said nothing. Why was telling him this so brutally difficult? These words, when spoken to him, were coaxing so much shame from her that she felt choked by it.
“The helicopter transported you to the hospital?” he asked tersely.
“It did.”
“And your injuries were...?”
“Broken ribs. Lacerations. The worst one was an abdominal puncture. A sharp branch entered here.” She indicated a spot on her outer back near where her ribs curved toward her waist. “And exited here.” She pointed to the scar he’d seen on her front.
Strain crackled through the silence.
