Gloria shivered, the temperature in the cab suggesting it had been more than a few minutes. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how nice it was to hang out with you and your brother.”
“Anytime,” Kristine replied.
“Careful,” Gloria said, turning to get out of the truck. “I might take that literally.”
Kristine laughed her valley-filling laugh. “I hope so. You do owe me supper.”
No awkwardness, she jumped out of the truck, promising to fulfill her promise soon. Inside, she scurried straight to bed, still wrapped in Kristine’s borrowed sweats, shivering as she waited for her bunk to return her heat. Her body startled awake by the cold, she thought about when she’d return the dinner and what they’d find to talk about, whether Kristine would tell her more about why she wasn’t in the backcountry when she seemed to miss the longer trips. She had to laugh at herself, wondering if her finding more pleasure in talking to Kristine than fooling around with Ocean was a sure sign of her getting old. She knew without a doubt that had she turned down Kristine’s offer for dinner and sought out Ocean that she’d be naked in a different bed, her muscles humming from an uncomplicated sexual workout, her mind only replaying sensory details.
Yet, she’d been honest with Kristine about how much she had enjoyed the evening, way more than many dates she’d endured. Her thoughts circled back to the shower, and she allowed herself a fantasized version without Kristine’s brother in earshot. She pictured Kristine’s toned body naked in front of her as she ran her hands along her own flat belly. Her hands would be more thorough, curiosity guiding them as she learned the curves of Gloria’s body the way she obviously knew the curves of the mountain road. Gloria’s own hands paused at her breasts, and she felt her nipples grow hard. She pictured Kristine’s hands following the path that the water had taken earlier and let her own hand find its way.
Chapter Thirteen
Kristine twisted around in her saddle again to assess Scooter’s pack. She watched the red crisscross of the sawbuck saddle between the mule’s ears, and as she feared, they did not return to center. Instead, they rocked steadily to the right. She swore under her breath at Nard. When she agreed to take on the Aspens with Gabe, she had forgotten about how many of Nard’s trips left out of the outpost and how often that meant she would see him.
From the moment Kristine had stepped out onto the porch to a brilliant orange-hued sunrise, the day had taken an ominous tone. She heard Sol’s adaptation of the old sailor’s adage the cowboys used, “red sky morning, packer take warning.” It felt even more foreboding to have one of Nard’s trips leaving from the outpost that morning. It didn’t help that her head was swimming with images of Gloria emerging from the bathroom pink and flushed. The way Gloria had glanced in her direction and held her eyes, Gloria must have known or guessed how Gabe was teasing her about how it would be fine with him if she wanted to wash up before supper, too. As if her own mind hadn’t stepped into the bathroom with Gloria. As if she hadn’t second-guessed asking him to stick around. She certainly didn’t need Gabe pointing out the possibility available to her. She needed him to help her keep her resolve.
In the truck, she’d limited her touch to waking Gloria, knowing how easy it would be to linger and explore. She loved how easy it had been to convince Gloria to let them take care of her after her long hike in and how well she’d fit into their evening. Around the cowboys, she felt the constant need to be on her guard, and that was certainly true this morning with Nard “helping” her pack up her animals. He’d been too close, putting himself right where she needed to be, so she’d have to step into his space to complete her ties, touching her hand when she threaded the lashrope through for a diamond hitch. With Nard, she felt like she was being stalked; with Dozer, she felt she was being judged and criticized. With Gloria, she felt none of that. Though she barely knew her, she knew she could simply be herself.
She glanced at the listing load again, resigned that she would have to deal with it before they got much further. She waited until they had reached the bottom of the steep, rocky descent into the valley and were on the River Trail where she’d have a chance to tie up her horse. Had it been Boomerang, who she’d been riding for weeks, she would have felt fine messing with the pack with the leadrope tucked into her belt, but today she had Nard to thank for having to ride one of the outfit’s new horses, so she’d play it safe and tie him to a tree to rearrange the pack.
“Sorry for the holdup folks. I just need to make a quick adjustment to this pack,” she explained to the family riding behind her mules. She tied the Appaloosa to one of the aspens by the trail, glancing at the many initials carved in the tree’s trunk. The backcountry graffiti had never made any sense to her, but she’d always ridden by it framing pictures in her head. She wished she could afford the time to pull her camera out of her saddlebag but knew with the limited light that she’d get better results with her tripod. She made a mental note to pack it the next time she traveled the River Trail with empty mules before attending to the leaning pack. Grabbing the lashrope, she picked up her feet, letting the weight of her body pull the pack back to center. As she worked, she listened to the young blond boy decked out in his Western duds complete with red checked neckerchief. He was worried about his horse. Last year, he’d been allowed to ride with his mom, but this year, he was on his own horse, and she knew given his tiny stature that the horse she’d chosen intimidated him. He was scared. The doubt she read in his round freckled face relayed how little faith he had in her explanation that big horses are actually easier to control and calmer than small ones. Each parent had begged him to listen and trust the guide. When that failed, the dad explained how he was a big boy, too big to ride double, and his mom tried threatening to cancel the trip if he could not be reasonable. The boy had yet to settle into the ride, and stopping to adjust the pack hadn’t helped anything.
“He wants to buck me!” he cried as his horse stomped a hoof.
With a tired voice, his father explained that the horse was trying to scare off a fly, not try to toss his son off.
Kristine had had enough. “Malcolm, right?” His little head turned to her. “I need your help, buddy. See this red X here?” she pointed to the back of the saddle. “It holds the two bags on the mule, but the bags aren’t quite the same weight, so the heavier one is tipping the saddle farther and farther to the right instead of rocking back to center. See, your horse can count on you to stay in the middle, right?” He nodded. “But this pack isn’t like you. We need to get it to sit right on the mule like you’re sitting on your horse. Do you see a rock about this big?” She held up her hands, and he scanned the area around them.
“How about that one?” he pointed.
Kristine picked it up and studied the weight of it, about five pounds. “Should work. You think it’s been wanting to see Rosalie Lake?”
The boy nodded earnestly. “Just like me! I’m going for my birthday!”
“How old will you be this year?” Kristine asked, tucking the rock between the tarp and the lashrope on the left side of the mule.
“Six,” Malcolm answered proudly.
Kristine pulled lightly on the pack and asked her young rider if the X came back to line up with the mule’s tail. He nodded. “Then we’re all set. I’m going to give you an important job, okay? You keep your eye on that X, and if it starts to tip funny again, you tell me.”
He nodded and kept his eyes firmly on the mule’s saddle. Kristine approached her little Appaloosa and groaned again. In front of him was a large hole he’d dug during Kristine’s pack adjustment. So that’s why your name’s Digger, she thought to herself, quickly kicking the dirt back into place and swinging onto the horse, holding him steady as her mules and then riders fell into place.
“You must’ve majored in child development,” Jack, the boy’s father, called once they were back on the trail.
“Just giving him a job to do.” She motioned to her horse and said, “Like this guy, he’ll be happier
with a task. It’s a matter of directing energy.”
“Well, you clearly love what you do.”
Kristine nodded. She couldn’t deny it, couldn’t ignore how being out in the backcountry on horseback made her heart sing. Nard’s behavior in the yard had reminded her all too vividly why she had stayed away from the Lodge for so long. A shiver went down her spine remembering how she startled when she heard his voice that morning.
He’d called her Teeny again, refusing to bend and use her full name. He’d unsaddled her horse and was holding the heavy roping saddle by the horn like it weighed nothing. “I need that Boomerang horse in the backcountry.”
She’d moved to take her saddle, realizing that there was no easy way to take it without touching him. “Throw it on the rail,” she’d said. Though she liked Boomerang a lot, she let it go. She couldn’t argue with him for not wanting to have a new horse on an overnight trip. It wasn’t his choices, it was the way he stood there waiting for her to challenge him. He’d been testing her, she was certain, seeing how far he could push her, his watery blue eyes intent on her reaction.
He’d pushed again. “There’s a number of people who can help your brother here. Dad’s having to send a cook from the café on this trip. After this, I’ve got the photography trip. You should cook it.”
“I’m a packer, Nard, not a backcountry cook.”
He’d pulled at his mustache with his bottom lip, a habit that had always made her skin crawl. She’d been proud of herself for the unemotional reply, for shutting him down.
Though she’d tried to tune him out and stay on task, the expression on his face as he lurked around her pack dock this morning had made her rush to get out of the yard. Now Scooter was stuck with the extra weight of the stone she’d added to his load, carrying it up the rocky staircase that switchbacked beside the Shadow Lake waterfall.
She paused halfway up the hill before the climb got more intense. Her riders halted on the switchback below her.
“How’s Scooter’s pack riding?” she asked the boy.
“Great!” he chirped. “I’ve been watching it the whole time!”
Kristine winked at the boy’s parents, knowing they were all glad that he’d stopped complaining about being on his own horse. She glanced ahead of her, aware that the next part of the trail would test her young rider’s bravery.
“I’m really going to need you to watch it closely until we get to the lake, okay?”
His nod and his lowered brows matched her serious tone.
“You can help out your horse by holding onto the horn of the saddle and leaning forward. We’re going to climb some pretty steep stairs, and I want that pack riding just like you are. Ready?”
“Ready,” they all agreed.
She nudged her horse forward and onto the steep staircase. The Appaloosa struggled with the uphill climb, making her even more aware of the small burden she had added to her mule. A burden much like the one she had carried since she’d left the Lodge unexpectedly, one that Nard had handed her and that she had carried ever since. As they climbed the steepest part of the trail water thundered from the lake in the valley above them, drowning out even the sound of her horse’s hooves scrambling to find purchase. She felt herself slipping back to the panic of refusing Nard, the feel of his hands around her wrists and her inability to make any noise at all, the only sound her heart thrumming in her ears.
And then the silence.
The vast, calm lake before them.
She released the breath she’d been holding and assessed the guests and the mules. All fell into line behind her. She had made it to safety. She was in control. Malcolm gave her a big thumbs-up. Kristine’s tension eased as the seven animals snaked silently along the trail, their hoofbeats now muffled by the soft earth. She gave Digger his head, liking how he’d dug into his challenge and smiling at how it fit his excavator tendencies.
Her senses still heightened, she methodically unloaded the mules and tended to the dude horses. She stood letting Peacock rub his head on her when Malcolm’s father, Jack, came to find her. “Will it be you picking us up?”
“Hard to say,” she answered truthfully.
“We all enjoyed the trip up so much. Thank you for working with Malcolm. The gentleman last year got us to Emerald, but he certainly didn’t have the gift you have. I thought you’d like to know that Malcolm invited you to his party. We’ll try to save you a cupcake.”
“Just promise me you’ve got your bear containers and won’t be attracting any other guests,” Kristine joked.
“We know the drill.” He smiled. “Hope to see you in a few days.”
“Me, too.” She strung up the horses but detoured to the lake before starting her journey back. She took a deep breath, standing on the rocks at the shore of the crystal blue lake, the dramatic backdrop of rocky mountain with sporadic pines growing from crevices. She rolled the rock from Scooter’s pack in the palm of her hand, feeling the weight of it. With all of her might, she threw it as far into the lake as she could, standing on the shore until the ripples reached her toes. She smiled, then, feeling lighter than she had in years.
Chapter Fourteen
“Gloria!” Mitchell’s voice startled her out of her chore of poring through years and years of ranger reports, collecting data on the local bears. “Anything I can help you with?”
“No, but thanks.” She bent to her work, grumbling inside when he sat down across from her.
“Boss man says you’re picking up camp.”
“I just moved the camper to the Aspen Grove Campground. I want to talk to the campers and hosts at both campgrounds, get a read on whether the Lodge is attracting more problems.” Gloria left out that being at the Aspen camp would mean she could easily walk over to the outpost at the end of her day. More days than not, she found herself joining the Owenses there, if not for dinner, then to share a few beers out on the pack docks, listening to the valley settle for the night.
“Doing any research in the backcountry? I cover the Thousand Island section, and my camp up there is suh-weet. You’re welcome to stay anytime. Plenty of room in the tent for you, so you don’t have to carry that in. I’ve got a bear box, the works.”
“I’ll be doing some day hikes into the backcountry to set up some barbed wire to collect hair samples. We check the DNA back at the lab in Sacramento to determine whether it’s the same bear turning up at multiple camps. If I end up needing to stay out there longer, I’ll keep your camp in mind.”
“I just finished my report for Scott, so I’m a free man for the next four days.”
“Great.” Gloria was starting to feel uncomfortable with his continued conversation given that she had done her best not to encourage him. He certainly smelled like he’d come in from his ten days out, and she was anxious to have the workspace back to herself.
“I was thinking of driving out to Mono. Have you been?”
“Nope.”
“It’s truly awesome. How can I describe it?” He tipped his head back, his scraggly Adam’s apple protruding and bobbing as he swallowed. “The lake’s full of these weird-shaped spires that make it look like an alien landscape. The saline content is so high that you float like you’re sitting in a chair. You want to check it out?”
“No, thank you. I still need to settle into my new camp.”
Mitchell studied her. “Is this a PhD thing?”
“Sorry?”
“I’m a lowly seasonal employee, and you’re this expert research scientist. Is that why you’re blowing me off?”
Gloria set down the reports she’d been reading and took a deep breath. “I’ve dated plenty of rangers,” she said.
Mitchell’s eyes lit up.
“Female ones,” she said.
“Oh, dude. I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry?”
“That came out wrong. I just meant…ugh. I just feel so stupid. I just assumed…It’s not like we get much gossip to key us in.”
“No sweat, Mitchell. As
long as we’re clear, we’re good. We’re good?”
“You’re still welcome up at my camp by Thousand. While you’re here, you should see some of the backcountry. It would be a shame not to. And Mono really rocks.”
“Thanks, Mitchell. If I do decide on some sightseeing, I’ll track you down.”
After he left, she’d tried to get back to the reports again, but she couldn’t get her mind off her move. Being able to get to and from the outpost on foot instead of having to rely on the shuttle and Kristine’s kindness was certainly the main motivator for her move, but she was also thinking about how one-sided the arrangement felt. She wanted to be able to reciprocate dinner casually.
She checked her watch and decided to head back home. She’d found the perfect campsite located between the outpost and the trailhead for the River Trail. She was certain Kristine would often pass through there on her way home when she wasn’t using the High Trail. Though it was early, she couldn’t concentrate on her work, only on what she’d planned for dinner and how much she hoped to be able to share it with Kristine.
Back home, she threw some steaks in a marinade, chopped veggies, sliced and buttered bread and built a fire for coals. She grabbed a novel from the camper and settled in to wait for Kristine to come through, hoping that her assignment for the day would bring her home through her campsite. She paused, wondering whether Kristine would read her presence as a come-on which wasn’t her intention. She simply enjoyed Kristine’s company, Gabe’s too, for that matter. The more time she spent with the Owenses, the more she admired Kristine’s pursuit of her goals. Kristine came alive talking about her dreams of traveling as a photographer and the places she wanted to explore through her lens.
The sun was starting to set, and still no sound of hoofbeats. She felt disappointed, like a girl stood up for a date, which was totally unfair given that she hadn’t even made one. Resigning herself to the fact that Kristine must have used the High Trail, she set aside her book. Time to cook. Probably for the best, she decided, ducking into the camper to get her trays of food. She didn’t want to cook in the dark.
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