Free Peete and Repeat (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries Book 3) by Karen Musser Nortman

in park, and disembarked to open a large farm gate. She left it ajar and returned to the driver’s seat, edging the vehicle forward along an even narrower track. Finally they reached an area that had been cleared out for a spacious turnaround.
    Mary Louise braked the van, trumpeting “We’re here! All out!”
    They scrambled out, retrieving their coolers and other paraphernalia. Some of the younger members of the group helped Justin and Mary Louise lift the battered aluminum canoes off the rack and line them up near a path leading down toward a small creek.
    Mary Louise explained the put-in. “This creek leads into the Burden about two hundred yards downstream. You might have to portage a little before you get to the river, but I think the water is high enough that if you get out, you should be able to float the canoes through. Just don’t let go of that rope tied to the bow.” Her laughter pealed merrily as she pointed to said rope on the nearest canoe. Justin stood by nodding his head, underlining her instructions.
    They launched the families first, kids paddling crazily and switching sides with their paddles, scooping copious amounts of water into the canoes in the process.
    Larry motioned to the other couples to go ahead. “At our ages, it won’t be a fast launch,” he said. Frannie noticed that Richard’s manner toward his companion as he helped her into the canoe was probably not appropriate if she was a sister or friend. Richard gently put the paddle in her hands, speaking quiet, reassuring words. The woman appeared cautious and somewhat reluctant as she got in. Apparently, Valerie was not the only love of his life.
    The last two canoes were dropped in for the Ferraros and the Shoemakers. Cement blocks had been embedded in the steep hillside to serve as steps. Jane Ann gingerly stepped into the bow of the first canoe while Justin and Mickey steadied it. Mickey got in the stern and picked up his paddle, pushing away from the bank.
    Justin pulled the last canoe up to the little landing while Frannie and Larry threw their soft-sided cooler and visors in. Larry turned to ask Justin about the portage as Frannie placed her right foot in the center of the bow and leaned forward to grab the gunwales with each hand. Too late, she realized that the canoe did not sink in the water with her weight but instead sat on something solid. She pulled back as it tilted sideways toward the water. Her left foot slipped off the edge of a cement block, the canoe skidded out into the creek, and, arms flailing, she landed in the water up to her neck. The corner of one of the cement blocks gouged the right side of her back just above her waist.
    She half sat, half lay in the shallow water as Justin and Larry both reached for her, firing questions the whole time.
    “How did you do that?” her husband asked in disbelief.
    “Are you okay?” Justin’s voice was filled with concern, and behind him she could hear Mary Louise: “Oh, my!” For once there were no guffaws or peals of laughter.
    With their help, she stood, sharp pain shooting through her side. At first, she couldn’t seem to get her breath and ignored their questions. After a few moments she straightened up—well, mostly— and shook her head in response to whatever questions they were bombarding her with. She lifted the back of her shirt for Larry and Mary Louise to examine.
    “No bleeding,” Larry said. “You didn’t break the skin. You’re going to have a hell of a bruise, though, and be really sore.”
    Justin began apologizing. At his age, he probably thought he had just done in one of his grandmother’s generation. “I’m really sorry—the keel must have been balanced on a rock underwater. I’m sorry….” He glanced helplessly at Mary Louise.
    Frannie shook her head again. “I’m okay…my fault, too big a hurry…”
    “We’ll take you back to the campground and to the ER if you want,” Mary Louise had regained her composure,
    “No, really, I