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I’m filthy from the crash and sweaty after the hike through the forest the previous day, and from the physical work. It’s not that I’m unused to working hard, but being in a forest is very different than the city.
The thought of plunging into the cold river, being able to wash, and then changing into clean clothes sounds like heaven.
“I think I’ll take a walk down to the river,” I announce. “I’d like to wash. I’m gross.”
Reed purses his lips at me, his brow drawing down. “You shouldn’t go down there alone.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You might not find your way back again, or what if there’s a bear or something?”
“We haven’t seen any bears.”
He’s not giving up. “What if you misjudge the flow of the water and fall in and get swept away?”
Jeez, he really is imagining every possible bad scenario. I want to think he’s overreacting, but then we have recently been in a plane crash.
“I won’t go in that deep, I promise.”
Reed folds his arms across his chest, the sleeves of his t-shirt straining against his biceps. “It’s not safe, Laney. Please. I don’t want to have to worry about you on top of everything else.”
I relent, but only because I’m distracted by his arms. “Okay, fine.” I guess this means I won’t be able to strip off completely. “You won’t look, will you?” I check.
He arches an eyebrow at me as though he thinks I should know better, and I throw up both hands.
“Okay, okay. You can’t blame a girl for asking.”
“I’ll keep my back to you the whole time,” he promises.
“Though then you won’t be able to watch out for bears.” I’m only teasing him, but his expression falls.
“I’ll be fine,” I repeat, exasperated, but also a little pleased.
I’ve never had anyone care about my safety or welfare before, and there’s something about this older man wanting to watch out for me that warms me from the inside.
It seems strange to think that Reed was only reintroduced into my life a matter of days ago, and that it’s been the same length of time since my mother died. It feels like so much longer—a time period that should be counted in weeks, or even months, rather than days. I wonder if he thinks the same.
I gather my belongings—a towel I’d stolen from the hotel, some body wash, and a clean set of clothes. I can smell smoke in my hair, and I’d like to wash it, too, at some point, but I won’t do that today. I don’t know how easy it’s going to be to get clean in the river, and I feel like I’m quite literally testing the waters. If it proves to be straightforward, then I’ll go back tomorrow and deal with my hair.
That’s assuming we’re even still here tomorrow. With any luck, a helicopter will fly overhead at any minute, and we’ll be saved.
Somehow, I can’t get that scenario to sit right with me.
We leave the cabin and make the ten-minute walk down to the river. Now we’ve made a number of trips, we’ve created a clear pathway. There would be no chance of me getting lost if I came down here on my own, but I appreciate Reed’s concerns.
We reach the water, and I dump my belongings on the ground.
“I’ll be right over here,” Reed says, heading a short distance away, toward a cluster of trees.
“No peeking?” I check.
“I’ll keep my back turned the whole time.”
I feel self-conscious as I stand on the riverbank and strip out of my clothes. I keep my underwear on, though I’d have really liked to rid myself of those as well. It doesn’t feel like I’ll be properly clean with them still on.
I risk a glance over my shoulder. True to his word, Reed is facing away. He’s resting one forearm on the trunk of a tree, and his neck is bent. I don’t think he’ll try to get a look at me naked, and I’ll get in the water quickly, so it’s not as though he’ll see much, anyway.
Hesitating a moment longer, I made a snap decision and strip off my bra and panties too. I step into the shallows, sucking air in over my teeth as the cold water hits my skin, and then wade in. I have the bottle of bodywash in one hand, and, as soon as I get deep enough, I duck down, submerging my body. I gasp and splash my face. It’s freezing, but invigorating.
