Free Down River by Karen Harper Page B

been shallow and selfish—except you, of course.”
    He spun back to face her. “I came to a crisis in my life and thought I could count on the woman who said she loved me.” He blocked the path and dropped his pack. “We’ve tiptoed around the big discussion we were supposed to have yesterday, but your sudden attack indicates the time and place is now.” He crossed his arms over his chest. He looked big and forbidding, but so much had been building inside of her that she had to let it out.
    She thrust her fists to her hips to counterattack his body language. “I loved the Mitch I knew,” she insisted, “the one I thought was being honest with me about his and our future when we got engaged!”
    “Yeah, well, people change and need help sometimes, and if you, of all people, haven’t figured that out by now, I’ll have to tell Graham you’ll make a lousy lawyer in general, let alone a senior partner—or marital partner. You’ve had crisis points yourself and gotten help along the way, but evidently you can’t accept the same for someone else.”
    “Oh, now we’re to the nitty-gritty, aren’t we? Back in your element, the man of clever words—talk about an attack!” She found herself flinging gestures despite how her arms ached. That was a nervous habit she’d worked hard to conquer, yet he was making her regress—in so many ways. She spit out the wad of birch bark she’d been babying, because it did help the pain, but it was keeping her from enunciating clearly. Most lawyers knew better than to tangle verbally with Mitchell Braxton, but she was determined to finally tell him off.
    “You have no right,” she rushed on, “to blame my childhood trauma for making me sound like someone who was so devastated that she can’t give love or understand someone else’s problems. Your childhood wasn’t as hard as mine, but you’ve never gotten over being overshadowed by an older brother you thought your parents loved more! Well, that’s nothing compared to what I’ve been through, but I’ve risen above it, so—”
    “So, did someone really push you in the river?” he interrupted. He leaned back slightly on his heels, gazing down at her from his height as if he were about to pass sentence on her. “Or was that just a crazy whim of yours to get attention, sympathy from the Bonners maybe, or to make me feel bad—then, of course, it went awry, and you really did slip in. You told me once that foaming water fascinates as well as scares you. You underestimated the power of the current, didn’t you? You could have killed us both. I rest my case.”
    “Your case is flimsy—worse than ridiculous! You think I’d so much as get near that raging river after what happened to my family? You’re the one who’s crazy, not me!”
    “Evidently true, since I risked my life to come after you and am still stupid enough to care about y—Oh, hell, forget it. But you’d better be damn sure you don’t get back to the lodge and start accusing someone of shoving you in or start playing detective when this could easily be all your own fault!”
    He cut himself off, yanked the pack back into his arms, turned and started away, taking huge strides. She stood there for a moment, stunned. Her own fault…her own fault. Those words, that fear—maybe that truth—swam through her brain. What he’d said was true, partly. She had felt guilt over her childhood losses—not just survivor’s guilt, but the guilt that maybe pulling away from her mother, instead of trying to hold her on the railing, on the deck, mighthave been the jolt that sent her loved ones overboard to their deaths.
    So could she be punishing herself again by intentionally falling in, maybe even by throwing herself in the river? No, surely not, surely not.
    Mitch had stopped and was looking back at her. “We’re wasting time and strength, attorney Vaughn,” he threw back over his shoulder as he started away again. “I suggest you follow in my footsteps