His voice shook, though, and when she looked up at him staring at that cairn, she thought she saw fear in his eyes.
Willow Brand, Big Bend National Park
They’d beached their boats at the end of the river ride. Then the canoes were loaded onto a trailer, and Willow and her cousins were all herded into a van and driven back to where they’d started.
The entire time Willow had stayed quiet, and if her cousins seemed uneasy, it was probably because they weren’t used to seeing her so shaken.
Then again, they’d just held a memorial for the dead brother she never knew she had, so she supposed some grieving was to be expected.
Back at the tiny square building that housed the offices of Big Bend River Rides, they stood around their rented van talking while Drew went inside to settle up.
Ethan said, “I felt good about this. Willow, I’m glad you had the idea.”
“Yeah, this was great, Will,” Maria added. “Your brother would be?—”
“I’m not goin’ home.” Willow blurted it just as Drew rejoined them. She’d been ready to blurt it for a while now. “I’m staying close.”
“But Willow, why?” Maria-Michelle asked.
“Because…” Willow looked around at all her cousins, then closed her eyes, gathering courage before she spoke again. They were all going to think she’d lost it. “I think he might still be alive.”
Ethan said, “Oh, come on, Will.”
At the same time, Maria said, “Seriously?”
“I think there’s a chance. I’m going back there to that inlet with the refuse, near where we did the ceremony, and I’m gonna find proof, one way or the other.”
“Honey, be logical. What proof could there be after twenty-eight years?” Maria asked.
“Sometimes you have to put logic aside,” said Orrin.
Orrin was the quiet, brooding cousin. Bubbly blond Drew’s equally blond but far less bubbly brother. “I’ll stay with you, Willow,” he said.
“Me, too,” Maria said quickly. “But um, we didn’t bring any camping gear, did we?”
“I texted a friend with a hunting cabin right up against the park’s boundary,” Willow replied, turning her phone face-out to show a shot of the little log cabin her friend had texted her. “It’s even on the side of the park we want. How many are coming with?”
She looked around at each face. She saw worry in their eyes, yeah, and doubt too, but mostly resignation. If one Brand was staying, they were all staying. She hadn’t even needed to ask.
Wolf
Wolf laid on his back, the sleeping bag tight around him. He was cold. His tent mate, however, was shivering. He could feel her shaking right beside him.
“You’re freezing, Camellia.”
They had returned to the tent, soaked and frozen by the time they got there, then quickly put on dry clothes and zipped themselves into their respective sleeping bags. “I h-have a p-portable h-heater somewhere.”
“We didn’t expect it to b-be this cold.” He got out of his sleeping bag, found the small heater, and turned it on. Nothing happened. “I thought we got batteries.”
“Shoot, I f-forgot. That one’s rechargeable,” she said.
And uncharged, so he dove back into his sleeping bag.
They had not discussed their passionate, river-soaked kissing. He didn’t know what to say about it, and he hoped shestill felt safe with him after all that, because he was about to put it to the test.
He sat up fast, unzipped his bag, and said, “Come on, we have no choice but to double up. I promise I won’t turn into a Neanderthal in my sleep. You can trust me.”
“It’s n-not that,” she said, but she sat up, unzipped, and offered him the end of her sleeping bag.
