Sweet Serenade (Riverbend Romance 3) (10 page)

“Carly, don’t give up on us.”
Don’t tear my heart in half
. “Please.”

His feet rooted to the asphalt parking lot as she walked away. She rounded her car and unlocked it then looked across the roof toward him. “Goodbye, Reed.”

He stood and watched his life, his hope, his future drive away.

Empty.

~*~

Carly parked her car in the Riverside Park lot. The full moon hung high in the sky, casting a long, glittering band of light over the Sandon River. There was no way she’d get any sleep that night. She might as well walk the park.

A bitter laugh erupted as she locked the car. Riverbend was such a safe town she didn’t even need to worry about some stranger mugging her. Her own cousin had done a good enough job.

It wasn’t Brittany’s fault. Sure, she’d been the catalyst, but telling the group Carly and Reed had kissed wouldn’t have created this disaster if there hadn’t been more underneath.

Carly crossed to the gazebo, where the aroma of roses filled the night air. She stood inside, elbows against the railing as she stared out at the river.

“God?” she whispered. “What do I do now? Where do I go from here?” She’d moved from Jasper to leave her past behind, but it had followed her. It would be her constant shadow for the rest of her life. She could give in to it, like Brittany. Just accept that people had sex, and it wasn’t a big deal. But Reed...

Two months of dating Reed had spoiled her. She’d learned what it was like to put God first in a relationship, to talk and spend time together without the pressure of the physical. To be cherished. To feel such a deep attachment—love—and allow it to grow organically.

Would things be different this minute if he’d tried one more time to take her into his arms there in the Best Western parking lot? Would she have let him?

Carly stumbled out of the gazebo, following the path to the river.

The fact was, he hadn’t tried again. He hadn’t followed her when she left. Yeah, she’d turned south off the highway—in case he watched her taillights—before crossing north again a few blocks over.

She’d done a good job of pushing him away. Should she have listened to him? Let him keep saying the words he’d started to say? Never before tonight had he said, “I love you.” She’d longed to hear those words, but deep inside, she’d recognized that the longer he waited, the more real the sentiment.

But they seemed like a sham. It wasn’t the real Carly he loved, but the woman she’d pretended to be.

She dropped onto a bench overlooking the Sandon. Yes, the stream of light glinting off the river was solid even while it wavered on the edges from the current. Peaceful on top, but barely concealing the turmoil beneath the surface.

Like her. She’d almost kept it all together. Would she ever have told Reed, or would she have kept her secret all the way to the grave? She’d put on a good cover with barely a ripple. But underneath...

Her phone chimed with an incoming text, and her heart leaped. Would he give her another chance? Was it even wise?

She fumbled as she pulled the device from her pocket, dropping it in the grass. A little more force and it would have tumbled into the river. She steadied her breath as she picked it up and swiped it on.

Brittany.
Where are you?

Not Reed. Of course, not Reed.

She tapped out a message.
Don’t worry. I’m out of your way.

A text chimed back.
Don’t take everything so seriously.

Yeah, her cousin had liked having help with the rent. Brittany should’ve thought about that before cat-fighting in front of everyone. Carly stared at the screen and swiped it off without replying.

It pinged again.
You’ll thank me later.

How much later? Fifty years? No, she was done with her cousin. Done with Riverbend. Done with Reed.

Another text. It took all Carly’s willpower not to heave the thing in the river. Only the thought of paying for a replacement without a job stayed her hand. She shoved it back into her pocket and dropped her head into her hands. “Jesus? Do you really care? I’m at the end of my rope.”

~*~

Reed paced his apartment above the boatbuilding shed. He’d texted her three times with no reply.

He’d blown it.

If God could forgive and forget, what made him think he could hold back from Carly? He wasn’t better than her. There were a bazillion ways to break God’s commandments, and he’d done a bunch of them. Just because they were a different set than Carly was no excuse. God didn’t put sin in categories.

The Carly he knew was beautiful inside and out. Over the past two months they’d talked so much. He thought he’d known the significant stuff in her life. They’d read scripture together. Prayed together.

Fallen in love together.

Reed stared out the window toward the river. The moon gleamed across the watery surface. Carly was out there somewhere, maybe driving away from Riverbend. There’d been no available room. Maybe she’d spend the night in her car.

Would she get any sleep? He knew he wouldn’t.

He’d been debating when to ask her to marry him. How he’d do it. What he could offer her for a future. If he should buy a ring first or let her pick it out.

Reed crossed the apartment. Out the other side, the trees filtered the moonlight, allowing weird-shaped streaks to light the lawn. He went to the tap for a glass of water. Back to the window overlooking the river.

Were all his hopes and dreams to be dashed in one wicked wave of Brittany’s hand? But that wasn’t all. Carly had had sex. Willingly, by the sounds of it. But it was past. God had forgiven. Reed could, too.
 

He could.

Only, where was she? He stared at his phone, where his texts lay unanswered.

Where was she?

Chapter 12

Dawn still came mighty early, even at the beginning of August. She’d dozed off a little over the hours and wakened when the first hint of light warmed the sky. Carly stretched, trying to relieve the stiffness that seized her. It wasn’t just the wooden-slatted bench to blame, but her heavy heart. It was tied in a knot, and all her muscles had joined it.

She ran her fingers through her hair several times then French-braided it loosely. The wildlife photographer she’d be meeting in a few minutes wouldn’t care if she’d had a shower this morning. Last evening’s swim in the river would have to do.

Reed, cannonballing off the rock, creating a wave that soaked everyone. He’d been so carefree. So happy. Until—

No. Carly shoved his image out of her mind and strode back to the car across dew-soaked grass. She drove down to Base Camp Outfitters and pulled into the back lot, her headlights catching the company van. Good. Neil had loaded the canoe for her.

A car pulled in beside her and a 40-something woman got out.

Carly pulled on her professional face. “Ms. Daughety? I’m Carly Thorbergsen, your guide today.”

The woman took her proffered hand. “Please, call me Linda. Nice to meet you. Thorbergsen is an unusual surname, but I’ve heard it somewhere before.”

Carly unlocked the van and double-checked that paddles, life vests, and bottled water were in the back. Linda loaded her gear and they hit the road.

“You may have heard of my dad, Erik Thorbergsen. He wrote a bunch of adventure novels for boys ten or fifteen years ago.”

Linda’s face brightened. “Yes, that’s it! My son loved that series. I always wished there were more books.”

“My father died of cancer about six years ago.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Not as sorry as Carly had been, for sure. Would she have made fewer stupid mistakes if her parents had lived? No way to know. She turned the vehicle onto the gravel road toward the lake.

She glanced at the woman in the other seat. “You know there’s no guarantee we’ll see the moose this morning.”

Linda nodded. “I know. But it’s been sighted so many times from what I hear that it’s worth the chance. Besides, it’s going to be a gorgeous morning with terrific light. I’m sure I’ll get some great shots no matter what we see.”

Carly offloaded the canoe to her shoulders in the parking lot, remembering once again how good Reed looked carrying his cedar-strip. She needed to stop that. She set it down at waters-edge with a twist that reminded her how tight her muscles were.

Half an hour later, she finally began to relax. Linda wasn’t given to much conversation and was a fair bow partner. The canoe skimmed across the glassy surface of the lake as the first streaks of true dawn shafted through the trees lining the east shore.

She heard the roar and the answering bellow long before her eyes could make out the figures in the distance. “Get your camera ready, Linda. Don’t worry about the canoe. I’ll bring us in.”

“What’s going on, do you think?” The photographer’s voice hitched with excitement as she rested the paddle across the gunwales.

“Not sure. But we’ll be careful. I’m not taking any risks for a glory shot.”

“That’s what telephoto lenses are for.”

“Good.”

The bellow had to be the moose. The roar? It sounded like a bear. The elusive grizzly? Could they be lucky enough to see both in one tour?

She drew the canoe through the water with the barest of ripples. She wasn’t going to miss Neil Maddrey when she gave her notice later today, but she was certainly going to miss this lake. The river. Reed.

Focus.

Linda had her binos trained on the shoreline ahead. She gasped and dropped them. Her hands shook as she lifted her camera and fiddled with the adjustments.

“What do you see?” Carly whispered.

“A bear just took a swipe at a moose. I’ve never seen such a thing.”

Carly strained her eyes. There was enough daylight now to make out two distinct creatures up ahead, still too distant to see clearly.

The camera began to click. “You never know when it will be the last chance,” Linda murmured. “Something could spook them out of the water and up into the trees.”

The last chance. Carly’d had that, and failed. But she’d make sure Linda got hers.

~*~

She was out on this lake somewhere. Unless it were Neil. Reed had driven up to catch some much-needed tranquility before going to work. The Base Camp Outfitters vehicle had been a powerfully welcoming sight.

He paddled along the shore, knowing Carly loved the north end. But it depended on what her client wanted to see. There’d been no red dot visible to give him an indicator before he started out.

The distant sounds of angry animals filtered into his awareness just as he caught sight of the red canoe in the same direction. Surely Carly knew to give wildlife a wide berth, especially if something was going on out there.

He bent to the paddle. How quickly, how efficiently could he cut through the still water and catch up? The roars and bellows increased in volume as the canoe grew larger. Reed squinted. Bear. Moose. Fighting in the shallows. The red canoe moving like an arrow toward the scene.

Carly was smart. She was no newbie in the wilderness. He could trust her to make wise decisions, but he couldn’t help himself as he powered across the water, stroke after stroke. Yes, he wanted to be certain of her safety. Yes, he wanted to witness the battle himself... from a safe distance. But mostly, he just wanted to see her again. Client or no client, he wasn’t going to let her walk—or paddle—away from him again.

~*~

“This is close enough,” Carly said to Linda, just above a whisper. “Both moose and grizzlies can swim, and I don’t want to give them any reason to turn their anger on us.” She lifted her binoculars to get a closer look as the cow moose lashed out with a front hoof and slashed the bear’s shoulder. The grizz screamed and charged, but the moose gave no ground.

Carly frowned and scanned the area. Why would the moose be so determined to keep the grizz away from the shore? She’d expected to see the bear attacking the moose, not the other way around. Her binos caught something in the rushes. “Linda...” she breathed.

Click. Click. Click. “Hmm?”

“The moose is protecting her calf. See it?”

Linda drew her breath in sharply. She angled the camera over and twisted the lens. Click.

 
The moose splashed sideways, blocking Carly’s view. Probably Linda’s, too. “I’ll get us farther over. Hang on.” Carly sculled the canoe over, not lifting her paddle out of the water until the angle cleared.

Click. Click.
 

The moose’s head surged up, her gaze focused on the red canoe. She bellowed.

“I’m getting us out of here.” Carly back-paddled a few strokes, not daring to take her eyes off the wild animals.

Click. Click.

The bear rushed the moose, claws raking its shoulder. The moose screamed in rage and pain.

Too close. Carly turned the canoe and paddled as deeply as she could while keeping one eye out over her shoulder. Only when she’d gained a hundred meters of open water did she breathe again.

A sixth sense warned Carly they were not alone. She looked around with something akin to panic, only to see a cedar-strip canoe skimming closer.

Reed. Relief warred with last night’s pain.

He spun his canoe sideways with a well-placed brace and came up beside her. “Are you okay?”

Did she look like she wasn’t? Carly straightened. “Fine, why?”

“I heard the battle and saw the red canoe. I was terrified.”

Linda turned in the bow seat. “Carly is a good paddler. We were never in any danger.”

Okay, maybe a little, but she wouldn’t tell the photographer that. The canoe had been close enough to distract the moose. If that had been enough to allow the bear access to the calf, she’d never have forgiven herself.

Carly shot a glance back to the battle. The moose seemed to be holding her own.

“I agree about Carly. You’re perfectly safe with her.”

She would not meet Reed’s eyes. She couldn’t, not when last night’s sorrow was still so raw.

“Then why were you afra—” Linda’s gaze swung back and forth between them, and her lips lifted slightly. “Never mind. I think I can fill in the blanks.”

“Need any more photos?” asked Carly abruptly. “We can come in from the east a bit if you want to try that angle.”