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When I Fall in Love(41)



Clearly Owen had done something stupid. Maybe even hit on her.

What Casper did know, however, was that he wasn’t Owen. And he would erase whatever bad impression Owen had left.

Casper heard more car doors slamming and saw more of his team arriving. Claire and Jensen, his parents with Amelia, Nathan and his wife and oldest two kids. Even Tucker Newman had shown up, taking a break from his snowboarding training.

He sat on the edge of a picnic table as they gathered round, found paddles and life jackets. No Raina. He tried not to let that bother him.

“Okay, gang. I know Darek isn’t here yet—he’ll be back once he and Ivy return from their honeymoon. But he’s put me in charge of practice, and we need to get the hang of paddling together, so we’ll start without him. I know that many of you have done this before, but for some of you, it’s new.” He picked up a paddle. “Just a few paddling basics. You start with the reach. You’ll be extending your paddle as far as you can—ideally ahead of the bench of the paddler in front of you. By doing this, you’ll maximize the amount of time you pull through the water, and thereby increase your force. The farther our reach, the stronger our pull.”

He demonstrated, reaching out. It was then that he saw Raina walk up, quietly, in the back. She had her pretty black hair in a ponytail, wore a cheerful yellow shirt. For a second, the sun broke through the clouds.

He cleared his throat. “Then you want to catch the water. This is done by digging in, like you would with a shovel, all the way to the top of the blade.”

Raina had picked up a paddle, was mimicking him.

“Now you pull back through the water. Keep your stroke as straight as possible.”

Again, he demonstrated, glancing back at her. She met his eyes but didn’t smile.

He offered one anyway.

“Keep the stroke short. This isn’t a canoe paddle action, but rather a quick stroke in front of the body. The power of your stroke is through the trunk action of your body, moving it from the reach, through your knee and thigh, and then a quick exit out of the water.”

He demonstrated again from his seated position on the table. “It’ll be easier to understand when we get into the boat. The key is to stay together, and that means we need to listen to our drummer.” He gestured to Emma, who held up a mallet.

“Let’s jump in the boat and see if we can get this.”

As his crew dispersed, he caught up to Raina. “Hey. I’m glad you made it.”

She gave him a cool smile. “Sounds fun.” But then she moved away, and he couldn’t quite ignore the unsettling stab of disappointment.

He put Noelle Hueston and Annalise Decker, his parents’ friends, at the bow, the first row. “You’ll set the pace. Listen to Emma’s call.”

“You just want us here because you think we’re the weakest,” Annalise said. She wore her blonde hair in a braid, under a hat that said Decker Real Estate.

“You won’t say that after five minutes of paddling at top speed,” he promised, but yes, he prayed they didn’t quit on him.

Emma sat at the bow, facing the crew, a barrel tom-tom between her knees, keeping rhythm with a long mallet, not unlike the coxswain of a crew team. Although Casper would be the one to steer the boat from his position at the stern.

He directed people into position, trying to balance the narrow boat for weight, then climbed into the back to man the rudder. The two empty places in the vessel would be filled when Darek and Ivy returned.

He held out his hand for Raina, but she managed to get into the boat without his help, not looking at him. Again, he couldn’t shake the odd feeling he’d done something to offend her.

“Push us off, Dad.”

After John shoved them away from the dock, Emma began to beat on the drum slowly as the two pacesetters, or strokers, led them out into the harbor.

Casper loved gliding over the water, the keen sense of flying. The quiet hush of eighteen people working as one as their paddles dipped. He steered them away from the dock, parallel with the shore, then around to the future starting line.

“When the gun goes off, we’ll start with twenty strong, fast strokes, then get into our rhythm. I’ll start us with a whistle. Paddles up—”

He blew the whistle, and as one, they dug in, surging ahead. At the bow, Emma hit her drum swiftly, then at twenty, began to slow, establishing a beat.

Except his mother, on the port side, had gotten off rhythm a half beat, and now her entire side, in order to keep from hitting her paddle, slowed, readjusting their rhythm. Instead of rowing as one unit, half his paddlers dipped down into the water while the other half lifted their paddles in the reach.