Ferryman by Claire McFall

Author:Claire McFall
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781848779631
Publisher: Templar Publishing
Published: 2013-03-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

“Well, this is nice,” Dylan said sarcastically, to break the silence and hopefully jolt Tristan into action.

“Yeah.” He sighed, looking out across the lake.

Maybe direct questioning would give a better result, she thought. “Tristan, how are we supposed to get to the other side?”

“We row,” he said simply. He reached under Dylan’s bench, causing her to yank her legs quickly to the side, and retrieved two battered-looking oars. Dylan was positive this time – they had not been there when she’d clambered into the boat. He stuck an oar into each of the rowlocks on the side of the boat – where the hell had they come from? – and lowered them towards the dark waves. They sliced through and Tristan began to row slowly, using one oar at first until he’d turned the boat round, and then powerfully with both arms. He had removed his jumper before he’d climbed into the boat and the T-shirt he wore revealed his impressive physique. He handled the dinghy confidently, hands clenched in fists around the handles, their grip firm and strong. With effortless strokes, he pulled them through the water.

Dylan stared at the way his muscles bunched and strained as he rowed, the movement pulling the thin cotton of his T-shirt tight against his chest. She felt her cheeks grow hot, and a strange urge to fidget made it hard to sit still. She swallowed, then glanced up to see him watching her. Mortified to be caught ogling, she dropped her gaze to the oars, slicing through the rippling surface of the lake.

Watching the smooth, circular motion of the paddle, Dylan had a horrible thought. “You’re not expecting me to take a turn, are you?”

He snorted. “No, I would like to get there before the end of time, if you don’t mind.”

Dylan raised her eyebrows, but as she was getting what she wanted, she didn’t argue further. Instead she stared out across the water. The hill they had just descended appeared to be the centre of a horseshoe of peaks that circled half of the lake. They curled inwards providing a measure of protection from the weather. Maybe that was why the water was so calm, the swell barely rocking the tiny boat. The landscape in the direction they were heading, however, was empty. It was as if the world just fell away. It was quite disconcerting.

Although Tristan was rowing fairly slowly, his powerful strokes were moving them quickly across the lake and Dylan could barely see the shore that they’d pushed off from. The opposite side was still not in sight either, and she experienced a momentary feeling of fear. What if the battered little boat started taking on water? Dylan wasn’t sure she would be able to make it to shore; she wasn’t a confident swimmer at all. Her mother had forced her to take lessons as a small child, but as soon as she was old enough to be aware of the fact that she had a body, she had refused point blank to keep going.

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