Dylan handed the empty bottle back to the ranger. “She needs those knees bandaged.”
Just like that, the ache in her knees swelled, and all the energy whooshed out of her like air out of a balloon. She allowed Dylan to lead her toward a boulder to lean against. The ranger followed, glancing around the clearing, which was bereft of any gear.
The ranger said, “Your canoe capsized in the rapids?”
“Yeah.” Dylan’s stood beside her as the ranger dropped his pack to the ground to pull out a first aid kit. “We lost our phones, our gear. Everything.”
Not everything. She hadn’t lost Dylan. Now she leaned into him, staying close to the vibrant presence that had apparently been the only thing that kept her upright over the last hour, considering how bruised and battered she suddenly felt. She braced her hands against the boulder behind her so she wouldn’t lose her balance and slide off like a wet noodle.
“I found some of your gear,” the ranger said, tearing open an antiseptic wipe that stung when he swiped it across her scraped knees. “I set it aside where I found it so I could retrace the path if I had to. But your laundry bag must have torn open in the water. I followed a pretty trail along the riverbank, which led me to you.”
The ranger nudged his pack. Casey glimpsed a lacy bit of cloth peeking out…a familiar, silt-streaked thong.
She glanced at Dylan, whose smile tilted with mischief despite his pain.
“Saved by your underwear,” Dylan said, his voice dropping. “Clearly, I picked the right partner.”
She absorbed those words, soaking them in, wondering whether he meant what she thought he meant, too weary and addled and exhausted to think any further.
The ranger bandaged her knees and then pushed up to his feet. “Can you two manage a last mile? There’s a logging road not far away. I parked my Jeep there.”
“I can walk a dozen miles if there’s coffee at the end.” She met Dylan’s gaze. “But he’s got a broken rib.”
“Cracked,” Dylan countered with a wince. “Maybe. I sure as hell can walk, if the future promises a burger.”
“To the hospital first.” The ranger pulled his walkie-talkie out of his belt. “Burgers and coffee later.”
She expected the mile walk to the Jeep would be the shortest distance they crossed that day, but the combined effect of three weeks in the woods and the accident took its toll. The ranger set the pace, but Dylan kept by her side, shoring her up when she couldn’t raise her foot high enough to avoid stumbling over a root or a rock. Her lungs ached. She might have inhaled some river water while tumbling through the current. Every scratch on her skin came alive, all at once. She’d never been so happy to see the sun gleam off the hood of the ranger’s Jeep.
Dylan eased himself into the front seat, where there was more legroom. She all but collapsed in the back seat, closing her eyes at the warmth and the comfort. Peter chattered as he eased the vehicle around the ruts of the logging road. She felt the change under the tires when the Jeep left the logging road and found smooth paving. She opened her eyes long enough to see the steel rails of a bridge flying by. Below was the slate-blue water of a river.
“Look north,” Peter said as the vista opened. “You can see the border and the glint of the Saint Lawrence River from here.”
She rolled her head against the back of the seat and saw the river in the distance. Leaning forward, she gripped the ball of Dylan’s shoulder. “You did it, Dylan.”
“We did it,” he countered. He couldn’t twist around without hurting his side, but she saw a smile lift one edge of his lips. “It would have made a better picture if you and I had paddled right up to the Canadian shore. But this works. It’s still a victory.”
The ranger drove them into a small border town, through placid streets, and to an unobtrusive hospital of only a few floors. Amid all of Peter’s low chatter, he must have mentioned the name of the town, but it flew out of her head. Time was starting to splinter. Her stomach felt hollow, nauseated, the granola bar that the ranger had given her curdling. In the emergency room, they said goodbye to their rescuer, who promised to go back and collect what he’d recovered of their gear and return