approval mattered. She didn’t need it. The saddle was off the horse and she’d done it without his help.
He finished unloading the camping equipment from the packhorse, putting everything to the side, then scooped up the reins. “We’ll water the horses, then see if we can catch a fish or two.”
As empty as her stomach was, it would take more than one fish to fill her, but the sooner they watered the horses, the sooner they would get to eat.
She grabbed Taffy’s reins and walked beside Cal to the river. The body of water was wide and didn’t look very deep. If she wanted, she could walk right out into the middle of it and never get more than knee deep.
She only hoped there were plenty of fish. She didn’t see any.
When the horses finished drinking, Cal staked them out so they could eat the grass but not wander off.
“Have you ever fished before?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“You’re in for a treat then.”
Hadn’t he said the same thing about milking?
Cal grabbed the poles, bucket, and a small shovel. Okay, her curiosity was getting the better of her. “What’s the shovel for?”
“To dig the worms.”
Of course-she should’ve guessed. Great, she thought sarcastically. The worms would be sacrificed to the fish, and then the fish would fill their stomachs. She had a feeling the worms got the short end of the stick. After all, they weren’t hurting anyone as they dug through the earth. Not that she cared at this point in time. She was hungry. But not hungry enough to eat a worm. Hopefully, the fish would find it a tasty treat.
She watched as he dug through the earth and brought out fat worms, dropping them in the bucket. When he apparently thought they had enough, he stood.
“Let’s see if we can catch our supper.”
“And if we don’t?”
“Then we’ll dine on a can of pork and beans and beef jerky.”
She hoped she caught a fish. At least now she knew she wouldn’t have to exist on worms if something happened to Cal. Not that she thought anything would happen to him. One never knew about those kinds of things, though.
They walked to the water’s edge again and Cal set the bucket down. He handed her a pole, unhooking the hook so the line would swing free.
“Okay, grab a worm out of the bucket and put it on your hook. Then I’ll help you throw your line out.”
She knew damned well fishing would not be the treat he’d said it would, but she refused to let him see just how squeamish she was. So, with more bravado than she was feeling, Nikki reached into the bucket and brought out a worm. It curled around her finger as if it was clinging to her for dear life, and actually, she supposed it was, but right now all she could think about was how much she’d like to throw it on the ground. As it was, it took a supreme effort on her part not to let her body convulse into shivers of repugnance.
“Here’s the worm,” she said, stretching her hand toward him, hoping he’d do the honors of attaching it.
“You have to put it on the hook.”
She took the hook between her fingers, then looked at the worm. “How does it stay on?”
“You have to thread the worm onto the hook.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re joking, right?”
He shook his head.
She looked at the worm, then at the hook. How hard could it be to ram a sharp hook through a fat, helpless worm? She swallowed past the lump in her throat and wondered if worms had pain sensors.
“It won’t be long until dark and you still have to catch a fish.”
“Okay, okay.”
She took the worm and threaded it onto the hook, knowing Cal saw that her hands shook. She wanted to whisper to the little worm that it was going to a better place but kept her lips firmly clamped together.
“Now what?”
“We cast your line into the water.” He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her, and she suddenly forgot about her empty stomach or the demise of the worm as new sensations swarmed through her.
“You bring your arms back like this,” he said close to her ear as he showed her.
“Okay.” Her words came out raspy and she wondered if he knew what he was doing to her.
“You hold this button down. That will release the line.”
He flicked the pole with barely any movement except for his wrist. The fishing line whistled as it flew through the air. There was a small plop when it landed in the water. Ripples circled out from where the sinker had landed.
Cal moved away and went to his pole. Nikki’s anticipation of what was about to happen died. Not that she really wanted to skip food for sex. Food first, then sex. But it had been nice when he held her close.
He threaded a worm onto his hook, then tossed his line out the same way he’d shown her. Now what were they supposed to do? Just wait until a fish grabbed the worm on the way by? It seemed pretty boring and time- consuming if you asked her.
“How long does it take to catch a fish?” she finally asked.
He shrugged. “We might not catch one.”
“After I sacrificed a worm? You’re telling me the worm might have died for nothing?”
He chuckled. “It happens sometimes.”
“And you enjoy fishing?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Why?”
“It’s that first tug on your line. It’s the fight. It’s landing a fish after you hook it.”
She didn’t see the enjoyment in it, and after ten minutes passed, she was having doubts that she would have more than pork and beans and jerky for supper.
There was a tug on her pole. The current, nothing more. It stood to reason that if the water was moving, she would feel movement from time to time on her line. There was another tug, but harder.
Her pulse sped up. Her line pulled again, even harder. She gripped the pole. “I have one! I have a fish! I think. What do I do?”
Cal dropped his pole and ran to her. “Hold on tight. Don’t let it get away.”
“Of course I’m not going to let it get away.” The fish was all that stood between her and starvation. “What do I do?”
“Reel it in. Turn the handle on the side. Not too fast.”
It wasn’t as easy as it looked. The fish was really putting up a fight. She was sure she’d snagged a forty-pound shark.
“Play with the fish. Drop your pole a little, then bring it back up as you reel the fish in.”
“I don’t want to play with it. I want to eat it.”
“And you want to keep it on your hook.”
“Whatever.” But she did as he said.
Okay, she admitted to herself it was kind of exciting. Who would’ve thought fishing would be this much of a thrill.
Cal ran into the water and grabbed her line. The fish flopped up in the water. He grabbed it.
“Don’t drop it!”
“I won’t.” He held the fish up for her to see.
She frowned. “That’s it? I thought it would be a lot bigger.” It had felt huge.
“It’s big enough to keep.”
Damned right it was. But it didn’t look as if it was big enough to share. She might be forced to give some of it to Cal since she had no idea how to cook a fish and there wasn’t even a black beast of a stove out here.
Cal put a string in the mouth of the fish and tossed the fish back into the water, then staked the other end firmly into the ground. It was kind of sad. The poor fish would probably think it was free.
Death Row.
Her stomach growled. But it was going to a good cause: her empty stomach.
