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After an especially good cast, Mitchell cheers her on before moving along to check in with the others. She’s white-knuckling the fishing rod like she expects it to fly out of her hands any second. Every now and then she gives the reel a turn to keep the float moving, but otherwise, she’s as still as stone.
Good for not scaring fish away, bad for enjoying the sport.
“You’re staring.”
She doesn’t look away from the float, which is a good thing. Iamstaring. I can’t help it. I haven’t taken my eyes off of her since she walked into Horizon Hikes yesterday morning. She’s fascinating and gorgeous, and I could listen to her talk for days on end and…yeah. Ireallyneed to get this staring thing in check.
Soon.
“I want to watch a master fisherman at work.”
That gets a laugh out of her, and her shoulders relax just a touch. “I’m available for private lessons.”
“Where do I sign up?”
She shakes her head, but I’m pleased she’s loosened her death grip on the pole. Now she almost looks like she’s having a relaxing day on the lake. I’m not sure what will happen if she actually catches something, but fishing’s ninety percent about the process.
“How do you even know the bait is still on there? Fish couldhave swung by, snagged the food, and taken off again, and I’d never know.”
“That happens sometimes. It’s good to reel the line in once in a while and cast again.”
She drags her eyes away from the float to look straight at me. “Aren’t you going to fish?”
I crack a smile. “In a minute.”
She gives me a dirty look and turns her attention back to her line, but not before I catch a glimpse of the smile she’s trying to fight.
I’m still watching a few minutes later when her float dips sharply in the water.
“I think something’s happening.” She sounds like she just unlocked a new fear.
The float dips again, and I set down my pole to move closer to her. “Looks like you’ve got a fish on the line. Reel it in.”
“Uhh…” She starts spinning the reel, but when the end of the pole curves toward the lake surface as the fish resists, she shoves the whole thing toward me. “You do it.”
I raise my hands in the air. “It’s your fish, princess. You’ve got this.”
“I don’t know how!”
“This is when you learn.”
She glares, but cranks on the reel, muttering something about mountain men under her breath. By the time it’s close enough we can see the fish swimming in tight figure-eights just below the surface, Mitchell has joined us to offer advice.
I watch and wait, saying silent prayers that she doesn’t accidentally lose the fish. This might be the win out here she needs. In another minute, Mitchell snags the fish out of the water right in front of her, deftly removing the hook with a small tool.
“Well done. Gorgeous rainbow trout.” He offers it to her. “Do you want to hold it?”
She recoilsas if he just offered her…well, a writhing fish. “No way.”
“You sure?” He’s unfazed by her disgust. “It’s your first fish. Pretty big moment.”
She hesitates. Then, she reaches out to run a delicate finger down the pink line that decorates the fish’s middle. She shivers and wipes her finger on her pants. “Yeah, that feels like touching a fish.”
A tiny smile graces her mouth, though. Like she’s proud of herself against her better judgment.
“You want me to take care of it?” Mitchell asks.
“Uh, sure.”
