“She hasn’t talked to anybody,” Willow said. “Not even Aunt Chelsea. Racked with guilt still.”
“Yeah. I can’t even imagine what she’s been through,” Drew said. “Or you either, for that matter.” Willow was the only one without a paddle. Drew had one in front, for steering, and Maria in the rear for power. They had to coordinate, paddling on opposite sides. The guide had a paddle “just in case.” But Drew thought she and Maria-Michelle were killing it.
Willow said, “This part is kind of beautiful. And I have to admit it’s nice to get away.”
“Your destination’s just around this bend,” their guide, Lupe, said. She was pretty and she obviously loved her work. She hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d pushed off.
“Follow the other boats,” she said.
They paddled their canoes into the corner between a tributary and the mother river. Further ahead, whitecaps appeared, and the river narrowed. “Rapids up ahead,” the guide in one of the other boats called as he dipped his paddle to help Baxter and Ethan steer their canoe in.
Soon all three gleaming wooden canoes were lined up on the bank, and the cousins and guides were standing around in a wild and untamed spot. There were scrubby bushes around, and disappointingly, she could see litter in the still water of a smaller branch up a little ways, collecting in the shallows. The tall stone cliffs had given way to more level ground, with trees, red-brown dirt, and boulders. Taller rock formations stood like soldiers in the background.
“This is the spot?” Drew asked Lupe.
“This is the spot you described, yes,” she said. “You said something was found near here? That would make sense, as the current dumps refuse near here all the time.” She nodded at the spot a little further upriver. Its shore was brushy, no clear finger of ground like there was here.
“They say the river takes its garbage out here,” said one of the other guides.
Drew winced a little at that description and sent a worried look at Willow.
“Even if he somehow survived this far,” Willow said softly, giving voice to what they were all thinking, “he couldn’t have made it much farther.” She looked at where the water became raging white-water rapids, with boulders winking in and out of the depths.
“What’s out here?” Drew asked, looking inland.
“Big Bend National Park.”
Drew looked at Willow, and their eyes held for a moment before Will gave her a subtle nod. This was the spot then. “If you guides could give us some privacy?” Drew said, “I’ll text you when we’re ready to move on.”
“No signal,” Lupe said. “We can come back in twenty minutes. Is that enough time?”
Again, Drew looked at Willow, who already had tears in her eyes. Then she said, “Twenty minutes should be fine,” in a gruff voice.
“Okay. See you in a little while.” The guides peeled away from the little group of cousins. Drew watched as Willow opened her backpack and took out a small pouche, a bundle of herbs, a lighter, and an eagle feather.
Wolf, Big Bend National Park
Wolf steered the pickup through the campground’s entrance. They’d stopped off at a grocery store nearby, where everythingwas overpriced, and got a few supplies—boil-in-the-bag meals and drinking water among them.
They drove up to the gatehouse, and a uniformed woman with curly orange hair and a friendly smile said, “Welcome to Big Bend. Can I see your reservation?”
Camellia passed her phone to Wolf, and he held it out the window. “Oh, nice spot. You’ll have a view of the river from there.”
“I thought it wasonthe river,” Camellia said. She leaned across Wolf to say it, and his hand rose without his permission. He stopped it halfway to stroking her hair. What the hell kind of an impulse was that? They werefriends. He’dpromised. She was afraid of men, thanks to Earl. One false move on his part, and she’d tell him to hit the road. Even now, she didn’t trust him. Not really. He recognized it, because he’d been raised by a woman who trusted no one, and he trusted very few people himself.
Camellia and her mom were a rare exception to that. He wasn’t sure why. He hadn’t decided to trust them; he just did. It was a gut-level thing.
And not the only one. The more he was around Camellia, the more he wanted to be around her.
“Mmm, it’ssort ofon the river,” the ranger said. “Great site though, as long as neither of you sleepwalk.” She laughed softly as she handed a one-sheet map out the window. “I marked your route.”
“Thank you, um, Sally,” Wolf said with a quick glance at the ranger’s name badge. He took the map and passed it to Camellia, who’d returned to her own side of the car. Sadly.
Stop it.
“You have a great stay, folks.” Ranger Sally waved them through the open gate. He drove slowly over the paved paths, following directions to a parking area with a sign: “No motor vehicles beyond this point.”
“Guess we walk from here,” Wolf said as he parked the truck.
