Harlequin Love Inspired Suspense March 2021--Box Set 2 of 2 by Dana Mentink (good fiction books to read .txt) 📕

one hand in a shrug. “I haven’t been that far down the river yet with the high snowmelt.” She grunted. “My scouting trip keeps getting cut short. It should be a very calm spot, but remember how easily new rapids form this time of year.”

The river had also changed right before the ride that had shattered his leg. The boulder responsible for the surgery and subsequent months in a cast had created a set of new rapids. Each year, that particular set of rapids had grown, and was now so difficult and long that Garnet Rapids was currently off-limits. Rafters pulled out beforehand. If they wanted to continue on the Sauvage, they had to walk the mile around the rapids to get back on the river that would eventually meet up with the Salmon River and the infamous Snake River.

She hitched the red bag over one shoulder, and Henry realized her own guide bag matched the one filled with drugs. “Don’t get those confused now.”

He meant his words to be teasing, but she shot him a look. She opened her bag and handed him a protein bar. “Not ready for jokes yet.”

His stomach growled at the offering, but his tongue wasn’t exactly eager for the sawdust taste of the generic brand. She grinned at his expression. “Well, I have sandwiches, too, but I didn’t think you’d be in the mood for a picnic anymore.”

“Hey, I wasn’t complaining.” He angled his position and gestured for her to mimic him, so their backs were against the rocks as he practically inhaled the bar. He paused for a second. “Sandwiches plural? You knew I would come today?”

Her cheeks flushed. “Maybe I just wanted two sandwiches. You know how hungry I get when rafting. Besides, Bobby made them.”

“The famous backpacker hoagie?” Henry eyed the bag eagerly, daring not to hope. Bobby only made those hoagies once a year as the ingredients didn’t come cheap. Layer upon layer of meats, cheeses, tomatoes and expertly portioned condiments inches deep within a toasted bun. He wrapped it so tightly in clear wrap, it compressed until you were ready to unwrap and enjoy. “There is no way you could eat two of those.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you like to think.” She pursed her lips. “After last night, I thought you might try to stop me at the dock. I like to be prepared for all possibilities. I just didn’t think you’d be waiting at the shed.”

He feigned shock. “You were going to try to bribe an officer of the law.”

Her lips twitched as if fighting a laugh. “Bribe isn’t the word I would use.”

With regret, he shoved the protein bar wrapper in his pocket. “Unfortunately, I don’t think we can afford to take the time to eat those right now.”

She tugged the opposing drawstrings and cinched her bag closed. While he kept an eye out, she secured both her bag and the matching bag of drugs inside the tandem kayak. Most of the kayaks the guides used had been fitted with a special, albeit small, storage section underneath the top of the hull. “Okay. Ready.”

He lowered himself into the back seat, bracing as Garnet Rapids came to mind again. The phantom pain in his leg wasn’t as bad as the real pain, he reminded himself. Besides, they would be off the river way before Garnet Rapids.

Nora moved to step into her own seat when she stopped, studying him. “How are you really, McKnight?”

Nora only used his last name when she switched into Concerned Teacher Mode, as he liked to call it. At one point, her dream had been to teach during the school year and ride the river during the breaks and summers. At least, that had been the plan when they’d first become engaged, but as far as he knew, she spent all year working for her aunt instead. He wondered why she wasn’t using her degree, but now wasn’t the time to ask. “Fine, Radley.” He parroted back with her last name. “Ready for the Savage.”

She grinned in response at his use of the river nickname. “It’ll be a calm ride. You can let me do all the paddling.”

“Not necessary.”

“That way you can keep an eye out.”

That actually wasn’t a bad idea. She slipped into the seat, seamlessly grabbed her paddle, and shoved off hard enough to slide through the sand and into the water. He checked the straps of his paddle stash to make sure the oar was secure against the side of the boat. “Or I could eat a backpacker.”

Her laughter bubbled up as she threw her head back, her thick braid slapping the plastic between their two seats. He couldn’t help but grin at the first genuine laugh he’d heard from her in years. His heart sped up, reminding him of what was at stake. His eyes shifted to the trees around them. The echo of her laugh hovered in the air as they entered another canyon section. The slap of water against the rocks drowned it out. The waters raced faster in the narrow channel. Nora’s shoulders rolled in rhythm as her paddle worked to keep them in the middle. Henry remembered the dangers of getting too close to the walls where the current could pull a rafter down underneath the water.

To the left, on forest land, the canyon wall disappeared again. She rounded a bend. At the next bank, a fisherman decked out in an oversize hat, still a good hundred feet away, held a pole. Henry frowned. “I didn’t think there were roads on the USFS side to there.”

“There’s not, but maybe they live on the ranch nearby. We’re close to the Sangster Creek pullout on the right.”

His eyes narrowed at the fisherman. “This isn’t prime fishing time. Salmon aren’t here yet, and he’s not an angler.”

“Steelhead, maybe? Want me to ask him about his fishing license?”

His gut twisted—maybe paranoia from traveling with evidence. But something didn’t sit right. “No, I don’t—”

The fisherman dropped his pole