She glanced up to find him near his tent, studying her with a worried expression. She smoothed a hand over her hastily pulled back ponytail and swung the backpack onto her shoulders. “I’ll go ahead to the dock. I need a little…”
Moment? Peace? Quiet? She didn’t know how to finish the sentence or how he wanted her to. He had a professional duty to Margaux. Otherwise, Emma knew he would have followed her.
“Sure. Stay safe. We’ll be along soon,” Daniel said.
She turned and left, heading directly to the lakeshore toward the dock. Proper maintenance often meant taking a dock out and storing it in the winter. Emma remembered helping the Thomases do that in the late fall with other high school kids for some extra cash. Judging by the state of the rotten boards and missing planks, the dock had remained in place for several winters.
She grabbed one of the posts and tested the wood’s strength, pushing and pulling. The timber didn’t move. She climbed onto the dock and focused on the boards, gingerly tiptoeing around cracks and over missing planks. Until she reached halfway across, and the rest of the dock vanished, only the uprights remained.
Weeds tangled into a clump at the surface, stirring up flashes of the past and jumping in at full speed into the open water beyond. While wearing life jackets, she and her sister had been invincible, splashing around and not caring that they couldn’t see or touch the muddy bottom. She peered into the dark water and recoiled. She wouldn’t be so brave now.
She glanced to the spot where life jackets used to hang. A heap of timbers stood in the spot. Surprisingly, next to it, a few canoes stood upright in the rusty, metal rack. How had the camp operated without using the lake? Did the town open the community pool to campers? Every corner of the camp only provoked more questions with no hint of an answer.
The slap of another pair of feet on the dock snapped her to attention. With her shoulders raised to her ears, she turned, preparing for the worst. Another hurtful or fake comment from an oblivious Margaux. But only Daniel appeared.
He lifted a foot onto the dock. “Are you sure this is safe?”
“No, stop!” She waved both her hands. Any added weight to the crumbling structure might collapse the whole thing. She didn’t want to drop into the chilly lake.
“Hold on, I’ll come back,” she said, holding up a hand as he set one foot on the dock.
His bigger frame would fall through the weak boards. She didn’t want him to plunge into the water by himself either. With a care for speed and lightness, she crossed to solid land on tiptoe, leaping from one spot to the next.
He reached a hand up to help her down.
She placed her fingers in his, and a jolt zinged along her skin. Being with him felt right and secure. In the midst of so much emotional chaos, he grounded her. Could the connection last if given a chance?
“Thanks,” she said, slightly breathless. She pulled her hand free as her feet hit the ground.
“What were you doing?” he asked.
“Trying to gauge if we could walk to the end and swim across,” she said. “I figured if we’re going to get soaked,” she pointed to the abandoned canoes on a stand half covered by weeds, “we might as well go in of our own accord.”
“In water this cold?” he scoffed. “I want at least the illusion of staying dry.”
She chuckled and rubbed her hands together. Her right palm still tingled from his grip. “Are you packed up?”
He nodded. “Margaux is finishing up the tent right now. Hey, about earlier…”
Emma shook her head at the pleading in his tone. Too often, she’d heard pity when someone used that voice. “Please don’t apologize on her behalf or tell me my life has value. She hasn’t shaken my self-confidence.”
“Good. And I was going to say, I’m growing concerned with her. She has sort of a wildness to her,” he said.
Emma agreed but kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t sure his opinion, acknowledging her feelings, made her feel better or worse about the situation. She wanted to hold on to some semblance of control. Taking in a deep breath, she exhaled and released the tight fists she hadn’t realized she’d curled. Control wasn’t hers. It was His. And she’d trust in Him as she always did.
“Hey,” Margaux called.
Emma fought the shudder as another nice moment ended by the brute force of reality.
Margaux used both shovels as walking sticks. “How are we going to do this?”
“We were just debating,” Emma said. “I’ll concede. If we can find a seaworthy enough vessel for the few hundred-yard paddle, we can canoe.”
Daniel fist-bumped the air.
Emma chuckled despite her misgivings and followed him to the stand. After an exhaustive investigation of the three remaining canoes on the rack, they selected a faded blue vessel that had no apparent holes. Only one oar remained intact. Emma located another that lost almost all of its handle and stem, leaving a pole.
“I’ll sit at the front with this,” she announced.
