Page 87 of Mr. B

“Should we go back?”

“I don’t think I can eat. You go.”

“I don’t want to leave you.”

He took her hand for a moment. “I need to be alone for a bit.”

Cassandra took a step back. “Okay. I’ll go to dinner and make up some excuse for why you’re not there.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you at the fire pit.”

She nodded, then turned and left him. A pair of ducks swam in close to see if he had food for them, and he shook his head. “I’ve got nothing for you.” He continued along the path.

As it grew dark and he was several miles from camp, he checked his watch. “Dammit.” Dinner was over, and the campers would be gathering for their last fire. Tomorrow, they’d be going home. He turned around. If he hurried, he’d get there before it was over.

With the trail following the lake, there was no chance of getting lost. But without a light, there was a risk of stepping on rocks or tripping over holes. Wes went slower than he wanted to avoid either of those things.

When he’d gone at least a mile and still couldn’t see the camp’s lights, he realized he’d lost track of how far he’d come. Even with the effort of walking, he was cold in his light jacket and hungry, having eaten nothing since lunch. He stopped for a moment to scowl at the dark water, still rippling in the breeze. When he’d started, the crests of the small waves caught the sun. Now they reflected the moonlight.

“Idiot.” He started walking again. The worst part was that the walk hadn’t cleared his head much. He was just as confused and pissed off as when he sent Cassandra to dinner. Why had he blindly believed Nick back then? Why hadn’t he given Cassandra a chance to explain herself? A million questions, no real answers.

The sound of splashing broke his reverie, and he moved to the water's edge. A large trout, caught in a shallow pool between two rocks, was trying unsuccessfully to return to deeper water. It was three feet from shore, which meant wading into the lake if Wes was going to help.

“Okay, pal. The last time I rescued an animal, I ended up with Frank. But you just want to get back to living your life in the water.” He stepped into the lake and walked toward the fish. “Don’t panic. I’m going to give you a bit of a boost.” The water was up to his knees and very cold. He watched the fish for a moment, then rolled up his sleeves and plunged both hands into the water, wrapping his fingers around the slippery fish. The trout fought back and squirmed away. Wes tried again, gripping tighter this time, then tossed the fish into the lake. It was too dark to see it swim away, but a few feet out, it broke the surface, slapped its tail, and disappeared again. “You’re welcome.”

Wes turned around and headed for the shore. A foot away, his boot came down on a moss-covered rock. The world tilted sideways, and he broke his fall with his hands, landing on the damp gravel shore. He rolled onto his back as pain shot up his thigh from his knee. He lay on the shore, half in the water, half out, staring up at the star-filled sky. He sat up. The pain flared in his leg again, and he closed his eyes. “Well, shit.”

Chapter twenty-two

“Happy, singing, fine.”

Cassandra didn’t expect Wes to show up for dinner, but when the campers all gathered around the fire pit and he still wasn’t there, she began to worry. Lester sat down next to her.

“So, where’s the boss?”

“He’s not back yet.” She glanced toward the cabin to see if the lights were on. Maybe he’d returned without stopping at the fire.

“It’s not like him to miss the final campfire. Is something going on that I should know about?”

She turned to him. “We had a discussion earlier about…he was upset, but not at me. He needed to process. At least that’s what I thought.”

“You two are alright?”

“Yes. I thought so. Now I don’t know.”

“Where did he go?”

“He was following the lake trail. I left him there before dinner.”

“Well, he’s been on that trail plenty over the years. It’s about as safe a trail as any around here.”

“Exactly. I don’t think something happened. I just…” She smiled. “I’m sure he’s fine and will come wandering in any second now.”

“He probably lost track of time and went further than he thought.” He looked at the campers. “I guess I need to get things started.” He stood and whistled. “Tonight is our final campfire. The week went fast.”

Lester’s voice faded into the background, and Cassandra’s thoughts returned to the conversation she and Wes had. Where the hell are you? When the marshmallows came out and the music started, Cassandra tuned back into her surroundings. Bailey was headed toward her, and she smiled when her daughter sat down.

“Hi, honey.”