“I’m fine,” I manage, cheeks heating. They’re all looking at me like they were genuinely worried about me. As if I were more than just a lost tourist and a legal liability.
It makes the ache worse.
Duke and Dylan grab our kayaks effortlessly while another brother I haven’t met introduces himself as Dermot and ushers me into a van. While the others are loud and boisterous, he’s quiet and doesn’t say a word as he drives me back to the starting point.
It’s a quick ride back toJohnson River Adventures.The brothers pour out of their trucks, and I catch a brief glimpse of Dean but then I’m distracted by his family again.
Their mom, Mrs. Johnson, rushes over with towels and water bottles. She’s petite but radiates the same effortless warmth as Dean. She wraps a soft faded blue towel around my shoulders and squeezes me into a hug.
“Sweetheart, you poor thing. The boys say you handled the left branch like a champ. We’re so glad you’re both safe.”
She says it with such genuine affection that my eyes sting. I blink rapidly to keep them free of tears.
They’re just being nice. Small-town hospitality. Don’t read into it.
Mr. Johnson appears behind her, nodding at me with kind eyes.
“You’ve got grit, Paisley. Not many folks keep their head in a situation like that.”
Duke winks and says, “So, Paddles, you gonna come back and give Dean a rematch next summer?”
Dylan elbows his brother before adding, “Or maybe she’ll just stick around and keep him in line.”
They tease me mercilessly but sweetly.
I laugh because I have to, but it sounds shaky even to my own ears. Every kind word, twists the knife deeper.
I keep trying to catch Dean’s eye, to pull him aside for even thirty seconds. To ask…something.
What happens now? Was this real for you too? Can we try to make this work?
But his family is everywhere. Hugging him, slapping his back, roughhousing like overgrown puppies. Diesel and another brother grab Dean in a headlock, laughing as they drag him toward the water’s edge.
I stand there awkwardly for a moment, clutching my damp life jacket, watching them tussle.
This is my chance.
While they’re distracted, I slip away toward the parking area where my rental SUV still sits.
My heart pounds as I walk faster, feet sending loose pieces of gravel skating across the ground. Tears blur the edges of my vision. I don’t want to say a half-hearted goodbye in front of all of them. I don’t want to hear him let me down gently. I just need to go before this breaks me completely.
Behind me, I hear splashing and loud laughter as the brothers toss Dean into the river. His shout of protest turns into a laugh. It’s the happiest sound. This is his world. His people. I was never going to fit into it long-term.
I reach my car, fumble with the keys, and climb in. The engine starts with a quiet purr. I grip the wheel and stare straight ahead, willing myself not to cry until I’m out of sight.
The road back to town stretches in front of me, winding through the mountains I’ve already started to love. I put the car in drive and pull away, leaving the sound of the Johnson family’s joy behind me.
This is it. The end of the river.
And I’ve never felt more lost.
Dean
The rescue arrives faster than I expected. Dylan and Duke pull up in one of the company vans, Diesel right behind them in Dad’s truck. They make quick work of loading the kayaks, tossing us towels, and herding us into the vehicles like this is just another standard pickup.
Except they separate us.
Paisley ends up in the van with Dermot, while Diesel, Duke, Dylan and I climb into the truck. I try to argue, but Diesel just gives me that flat look and shoves me toward the passenger seat.
