It was a challenge. A vindictive one. His way of getting back at her for making him look foolish over the blister and bearincidents. As if it were her fault he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—follow directions!
“Fine,” she said. This was one drawback of never showing weakness. She wound up doing dumb, potentially dangerous stuff just to prove she wasn’t afraid.
Without actual oars—she ended up using potlids to paddle—getting out onto the lake took forever. She’d stripped down to shorts and a T-shirt, telling the guys it was to work on her suntan. In reality, it was in case this ramshackle piece of junk fell apart and she had to swim back.
Which was exactly what happened not thirty minutes later. She dragged herself out of the water, sopping wet, freezing, and angry. Overhearing someone use the phrase “old wet hen” did nothing to tame her temper.
“Y’all fail knot-tying class,” she said.
They masked laughter with disingenuous apologies.
While she’d been fighting the raft, Logan had caught two fish and Grayson one. After she changed into dry clothes and sun-dried her hair, she and Carter hiked to the river.
“Sorry about the raft, Tess,” Carter said. “It might have been my knots that were faulty. I’m not very good at this camping stuff.”
“It’s fine,” Tess said. “It was a long shot anyway. We should be able to catch something here.”
“Well, if nothing else, I’m glad to have some time alone with you. It’s almost like a date.”
“If this is your idea of a date, no wonder you’re single.” She returned his smile.
“When we get back, I’ll take you out for real. Show you a good time.”
This had happened before—a camper asking her out. And while she had made a few exceptions over the years, she’d never been so tempted to say yes.
“It’s an enticing offer, “Tess said. “But one that rarely ever ends well. Let’s see how the rest of the campout goes and revisit.”
“In the meantime,” Carter said, undeterred. “We could make out while we wait for the fish to bite.”
Tess choked out a laugh. Confidence was not a problem for this guy. She had her boundaries though. “Not gonna happen,” she said.
They bagged four trout and picked a small bucket of berries on the way back.
When they returned to camp, the other three had caught a few more fish.
“Tonight, we eat like kings,” Grayson called triumphantly.
Ashton had baked a coaster-sized ash cake and set it aside to make another. Tess had just turned away to pour hot water into five mugs when he screamed.
“What happened?” Tess asked, putting down the kettle and coming to his side, thinking he’d burnt himself.
“That critter took my cake,” he wailed, pointing to a squirrel who was absconding slowly under the weight of Ashton’s treat. “I only looked away for a second. Where did he even come from?”
Tess heaved a sigh of relief, glad no one was injured.
“Forget that.” Ashton stood and started after the animal. “Give that back, or we’re having roasted squirrel too.”
The others heard the hubbub and came to stand around Tess. As a group, they watched the scene unfold.
“That’s something you don’t see every day,” Tess said.
“This feels like a panic move,” Grayson added.
Ashton’s feet must still have been sore from the unhealed blisters, because he wasn’t running so much as hopping stiffly from toe to toe.
“He’s never gonna catch that thing,” Logan said, and they all agreed.
The squirrel darted left, then right, zig-zagging toward the woods. Even with the burden of the stolen snack, he managed to outpace Ashton. The little thief kept sneaking glances back at his pursuer, and Tess would swear it was grinning.
