I shake my head. What I really need is to try to sleep, so I take care of business and admire the view, with the moonlight reflecting over the water.
And thoughts of Donovan have me so messed up that I feel immensely proud of myself when I remember to wash my hands when I’m done.
Chapter Thirteen
Donovan
Asalways,Iwakeat the first sign of dawn, reluctantly crawling out of my sleeping bag to get some water boiling for coffee and cocoa, all while wishing I had gone to bed far sooner than I did. For more reasons than one.
I’m surprised when I see Thiago already awake and dumping hot water into our dispenser, but I’m even more surprised to see three women seated in the sand near the hand wash station. Zahra and two of the college wives, both of whom look like they’re still half asleep.
“You’re all up early,” I say through a yawn and run my fingers through my hair, cringing when they snag on several knots. I must have tossed and turned a lot last night for it to be this bad. Too tired to fix it, I force my hair into a ponytail to deal with later.
“Nature calls,” Zahra says, bouncing one of her knees as she hugs her legs. “I was too scared to go after it got dark.”
“Mmm,” one of the other women mumbles into the palm holding her head up on her knee.
Chuckling, I continue into the kitchen and ruffle Thiago’s hair. “Thanks for getting started, GoGo.”
“Course,” he says and grabs the charcoal chimney for the dutch oven briquettes. He glances at the women, his brow furrowed, then starts counting briquettes.
All three women are still waiting when I come back from the boats with this morning’s breakfast items, and I tilt my head as I start cracking eggs into a bowl. “How long have they been there?”
“Before I was up,” Thiago mutters. “Someone is very sick, or no one is at the Hopper.”
I groan. Most likely, someone forgot to bring the paddle last night, and the ladies have been waiting for nothing. Not that I want someone to be dealing with gastrointestinal issues, but that’s preferable to someone already forgetting the rules.
Morgan has woken and joins the line, and Beth, the woman in the middle, looks like she’s ready to burst, which means I need to intervene.
Sighing, I wipe my hands clean on a towel and head over to the women, walking right past them and up the trail. “Anyone in the Hopper?” I call and pause, listening for any sounds. Nothing. “That’s what I thought,” I grumble and head back to the line. “No one’s back there.”
“You go first, Beth,” the first woman says, and her friend gratefully scurries down the trail in a frenzied waddle.
“You can always find a bush to squat behind,” I suggest to the others in the line.
Zahra wrinkles her nose at me. “No thanks.”
Shrugging, I head back to the kitchen and rejoin Thiago right as Derek wanders over, his hair sticking up on one side and his eyes bleary. “Morning,” I say to him, hoping I don’t start laughing at the sight of him so disheveled. But I can’t help but add, “The river is a good look for you.”
Yawning, he halfheartedly runs a hand through his hair a few times before giving up on taming it. “Thanks. Can I help?”
I’m pretty sure my answer will always be yes, even though I spent a good hour last night telling myself that I need to stop liking this man. Attractive as he is, he’s not the kind of man who will stick around when the trip is over. If I’ve learned anything in my years as a river guide, it’s that there are few people who would choose my life. A summer is one thing, but who would stay outside with me for the bulk of the year?
Not Derek Riley.
And yet my mouth tells him to help Thiago with the hash browns before my brain can tell it to keep quiet.
“What is it we’re making?” he asks as he begins dumping the potatoes into the dutch ovens.
“Pops calls it ‘Trash’,” I reply. “It started as all the leftover breakfast food thrown together instead of being thrown away. Eggs, hash browns, bacon, and enough cheese to clog your arteries.”
Derek chuckles. “Sounds great.”
“It’s my favorite,” Thiago says.
“Which is why he gets a dutch oven all to himself,” I tease.
Thiago says something in Spanish, making Derek laugh again, and I spend a couple of minutes listening to their back and forth with a grin. Thiago will talk to Mason okay, but most of the time he’s quiet and self-conscious. It’s nice to see him opening up to someone.
