by Lisa Plumley
So hurtful.
Closing her eyes tight so she wouldn’t cry, Alexis rolled over and grabbed the Cosmo. She wanted to read more of that “Fifty Ways To Look Hot” article. She wanted to return to school after spring break looking so amazing, Brendan would beg her to take him back. She wanted to make him so sorry.
She wished she weren’t alone. She wished her friends were here. Her great-grandmother had guessed something was wrong when Alexis had arrived over the weekend, and she’d tried to help, but she didn’t really understand. She’d been married to Gramps for decades. Nana didn’t know what it was like to have a broken heart, and Alexis did.
No matter how much she wished she didn’t.
Heaving herself upward, Alexis hit the play button on her CD player. The latest dance hit from J.Lo thumped its way through her room. If she closed her eyes, she could almost pretend she was back home, with her mom and her stuff and her cell phone nearby.
But her cell phone didn’t work out here in the boonies. The canyons messed up the signal. Her stuff didn’t matter as much as being without her friends did. And her Mom was busy in Rocky Point, Mexico, vacationing with her latest male “friend.” So that left Alexis alone, with a whole week of aloneness stretching ahead of her.
A movement outside her window caught her attention. Pulling aside the curtain, she peered out. The anti-heartbreak book author strode past, wearing a dress-and-heels outfit straight out of Elle…but with an attitude straight out of Woman Power. She kept her head high, her back straight, and her eyes on her destination—the edge of the lodge’s back deck, where Gramps stood smoking a cigar. While Alexis watched, the author—Jayne, she remembered—approached Gramps. They turned to each other, smiling and exchanging a greeting Alexis couldn’t quite hear, even though her room overlooked the deck.
She let the curtain fall back and flopped onto her bed again, still feeling misunderstood. Jayne probably knew all about broken hearts, she reflected. She probably knew all about getting over them, too.
According to Nana, Heartbreak 101: Getting Over The GoodBye Guys was a pretty good book. Not that anyone had let Alexis read it for herself. Her family still treated her like a kid—look at the Cosmo incident. But Jayne…Jayne was a different story. She’d talked to Alexis in a woman-to-woman way when they’d met earlier. She’d been nice and pretty and so not trying to “get down” with teenager “slang.” Alexis appreciated that.
She’d have bet anything Jayne had interesting things planned for those women Uncle Riley would be trail-guiding. Things to help them get over their broken hearts. Things that…might help Alexis, too.
Hey! Filled with new energy, she sat bolt upright on her bed. The answer to her troubles was plain: she had to go on that heartbreak cure trip. No matter what.
Jayne watched as Bud Davis tapped his cigar into the ash tray balanced atop the deck’s tumbled-stone wall. He gave another thoughtful drag, then looked at her.
“I’m sorry you’re havin’ a problem with Riley,” he said. “I’ve had my share of tussles with him myself, but I know he means well. If he’s offended you—”
“No, it’s not that.” He’s seen me naked, sir. Again. And I’m mortally embarrassed that he goaded me into a show-all bath accessories battle, too. “Riley and I…I just think it would be better if another guide were assigned to my group.”
Bud squinted toward the desert landscape. “How many people are in your group?”
“Six, including me.”
“How many days will you be stayin’?”
“Six. Until Sunday.”
“And how long did you and my grandson date?”
“Six months, give or take a—hey!”
The older man smiled. Too late, Jayne glimpsed the wiliness in his eyes. Until just this minute, Bud had seemed merely a good-natured older gentleman, white-haired and countrified in his flannel shirt. Now, all of a sudden, the rest of the story was revealed. This was a man, she realized, who loved a good adventure—whether it was a trek through the wilderness or a fact-finding mission to uncover his unsuspecting guest’s secrets.
No wonder Riley had grown into the wanderer he was. If his grandfather were any indication, seeking out uncharted territory was in his blood.
“I thought so,” Bud said, nodding. “And how long since you two split?”
She couldn’t resist the gruff understanding in his face. “Not quite two years. I guess Riley didn’t…tell you and Gwen about me?”
At Bud’s head shake, Jayne’s spirits sank. A part of her had hoped Riley had been compelled to talk about her, had been unable to resist confiding news of the woman he’d met in San Francisco and the whirlwind romance they’d shared.
“I’m sorry,” Bud went on. His lined hand covered hers, squeezed, moved away. He gazed at a distant red rock formation. “I shouldn’t have pried. But the truth of the matter is, Gwen and I are pretty close to Riley. It was obvious something about you got to him, even before the rest of your ladies ambushed him.”
At the memory of the way her breakup-ees had leapt to her post-breakup defense, Jayne blushed. She’d have to tell them to lay off Riley. He was her problem, and she’d handle him her way.
By avoiding him.
Which brought her back to…
“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” she said. “Riley and I have already talked about it.” While I was naked. “We’ve come to an understanding, believe me.” After he returned to consciousness. “So about that reassigned guide—”
“Can’t,” Bud said succinctly. “There’s nobody else to go.”
He seemed aggrieved by that fact. Yet strangely stoic, as though resigned to it. Jayne didn’t understand his reaction.
“But surely in an outfit this size—”
He shook his head.
“My publicist led me to believe—”
“Riley’s your man.”
Jayne sighed. A silly, schmaltzy, impossible-to-silence part of her still wished that were true. Riley’s your man.
At the sympathetic look Bud threw her, she forced a smile. There was no point letting this very nice man know how undone she was by this news. By being stuck, here, with Riley.
So the Hideaway Lodge wasn’t the New Age spa retreat Francesca had led her to expect. So her ex-lover was about to guide her deep into the middle of nowhere. Did that mean, Jayne asked herself as Bud went back to smoking his cigar, that she had to panic?
Yes! Yes, it did.
She’d already begun doubting the wisdom of taking five distraught breakup-ees into the Arizona wilderness, far from *69, cookie-dough ice cream, and DVDs of An Affair To Remember. This new development—The “Ex” Development—cast her plan even further into question. Her anti-heartbreak workshop attendees, chosen to participate as they had been by a Snap Books publicity contest, had every right to expect a quality experience. Mitzi, Carla, Doris, Donna, and Kelly would be looking to Jayne for guidance…guidance she feared she couldn’t give, when paired up with the one man she hadn’t quite gotten over.
The one man who, as it happened, had inspired her Heartbreak 101 book and its strategies: Riley.
“Don’t worry,” Bud said, breaking the (panic-filled) silence. “I’ve never known Riley to go back on his word. If you say you have an understanding with him, then I’m sure that’s all you need.”
Sure. That, and a big padlock for her heart—so Riley wouldn’t be able to slip past her defenses again. No problem.
Bud offered a reassuring pat to her shoulder, as though Jayne were a delicate woman, easily bruised by life’s ups and downs. She guessed he’d already seen past her tough, take-charge-woman cover. The realization didn’t engender confidence. Because while Jayne was perfectly capable and usually quite self-assured, the big chink in her armor was her susceptibility to Riley Davis.
When it came to him, she was on shaky ground—and her favorite pair of leopard-print marabou-trimmed mules had nothing whatsoever to do with it. Jayne had her vulnerabilities. Evidently, love ‘e
m and leave ‘em types like Riley were tops on the list.
Or at least he was.
Gathering her courage, Jayne squared her shoulders and faced her host. She’d tried to secure a trail guide reassignment. She’d failed. The only thing to do now was move forward.
“Thanks for all your help, Bud.” Impulsively, she hugged him, feeling his flannel shirt soft beneath her cheek. “I’m sure you’re right about Riley. Things will be fine.”
He chuckled. “Atta girl.”
A bell chimed, scattering the birds who’d been pecking at the ground near the deck. It chimed again, louder.
Bud released her. “Lunch bell. We’d better get a move on. Gwen’s grub doesn’t last long around here.”
Hungrily, Jayne followed him from the deck into the lodge again. Maybe things really would be fine, she told herself. She and Riley were both adults. Surely they could behave responsibly for the duration of one measly weeklong trip…couldn’t they?
After all, her new book contract, her belief in her “gift,” and her faith in herself were all at stake. If Jayne couldn’t resist Riley long enough to conduct a successful series of workshops for her breakup-ees, then she certainly didn’t deserve to consider herself over him. And she probably didn’t deserve the tongue-in-cheek label of “self-help guru” bestowed so often on her, either.
Not that Riley knew about her expertise, she remembered. He thought she was merely a workshop participant, not the workshops’ leader. A spark of curiosity flamed to life inside her as she caught sight of him at the far end of the lodge’s communal dining room. What—exactly—would he say when he learned her secret?
Shortly after lunch—a chatty exercise in diet-regimen comparisons Riley never hoped to repeat again—he gathered the women in the lodge’s common area, a twenty-by-thirty room furnished with Craftsman-style chairs, two sofas, assorted side tables with lamps, and a yawning fieldstone fireplace. Beside him was Alexis. Beside her, stacked on the table to the left of the fireplace, were the supplies the Hideaway Lodge provided its adventure travel guests.
“This is your gear.” He gestured toward the backpacks, two-person tents, and other items, having already dispensed with a welcome and his usual pep talk about the beauty of the surrounding countryside—a pep talk Riley believed in. “These are loaner items, yours for the duration of your trip. Some of these supplies may be unfamiliar to you, so stop me if you need an explanation as I hand things out. I don’t want to go too fast.”
“Smart fella,” Doris piped up from the second row. “A woman likes a man who takes it slow.”
“Nonsense,” Donna rebutted, shaking her steel-colored curls at her sister. “There’s room for a quickie now and then, too.”
“Yeah!”
The other women chimed in. Within seconds, the atmosphere devolved into a debate over “slow and steady” versus “hard and ready.” Riley could hardly believe his ears. This was the fairer sex?
“Hey!” He slapped his hands over Alexis’s innocent ears, lest she hear something she wasn’t prepared for. His niece had volunteered to help him outfit the group—not receive an X-rated play by play of the various ways to get funky. “Can we get back to business, please?”
One by one, the women quieted. Carla, the last one talking, closed her mouth with an abashed look. “Sorry,” she mumbled.
“Okay.” He uncovered Alexis’s ears. “As I was saying—”
In the front row, Jayne crossed her legs. Her baby blue dress parted beneath its row of buttons, revealing a curvy length of bare leg. Riley lost his train of thought completely. In fact, he was pretty sure his train of thought careened into an entirely different station.
Woo, woo! Woo, woo! All aboard! Next stop: see what you’ve been missing!
He tried again. “Uhh, about these supplies—”
Now she was swinging her top foot back and forth, in a slow arc that called his attention to those sexy shoes of hers. Shoes that were made not such much for walking on as for being seen in, as far as Riley was concerned. But when he swept his gaze upward, her face gave away nothing. Only the merest hint of an arched brow suggested Jayne realized her actions had had any effect on him.
Fine. Two could play at that game.
He cleared his throat and addressed the expectant group. “These supplies have all been field tested and will see you through every adventure in the coming week.”
Absently, Jayne ran her fingers up and down her pendant’s chain, drawing his eye to the subtle cleavage it adorned. Riley watched her fingertips graze the bare skin at her throat, move lower, lower….
He blinked. Desperately, he summoned the next part of his beginner’s orientation. “There are ten essentials you’ll need on the trail. First, a map.”
At his side, Alexis selected a 7-1/2-minute USGS Northern Arizona map and held it in front of her, gesturing toward it like a smiling game show hostess.
“This is a topographical map,” Riley explained. “Topos are the wilderness traveler’s most important navigational tool. They show roads, rivers, trails, and, most importantly, the lay of the land. These contour lines—” Alexis unfolded the map and pointed to the series of squiggly circles and wavy lines on its face. “—show cliffs, passes, mountains, ravines, canyons—you name it. If we’re going to cross it, descend it, or climb into it—as in the case of Catsclaw Canyon, our primary site—it will be on this map.”
Mitzi raised her hand. “It looks like my mom’s wallpaper.”
“I once made a tie-dyed T-shirt that had exactly that same pattern,” Donna volunteered.
“Oh, it did not,” Doris said. “Your T-shirt wasn’t nearly so attractive as that map.”
“The green is pretty,” Kelly said shyly.
Riley nodded, seizing on the first comment he felt qualified to address. “Dark green indicates tree cover. Forested areas. Light green shows scrub brush cover. As we climb into the canyon, we’ll see plenty of both, along with some high desert plants like cholla and yucca.”
“There’s yucca in my conditioner,” Carla said. “It really makes my hair feel soft.”
Instantly, an animated conversation ensued about shampoo, split ends, and hairspray. Completely befuddled, Riley stared.
This was going to be a far different group than he usually led.
Jayne kicked off one shoe. Sensuously, she ran her toes along her shin. Riley looked at her abandoned pink stiletto and couldn’t help but imagine her kicking off its mate. Unbuttoning her dress. Giving him a smile while she—stop it.
He put his thumb and middle finger in his mouth and whistled. The women quieted in surprise.
Smiling, Riley moved on. Unique as this group was, he had the patience to deal with them. Impatient adventure travel guides tended to wind up dead, unemployed, or both. Even though his primary career was photography and he loved it, he loved the outdoors just the teensiest bit more. Taking pictures only subsidized his travels—kept him in trail mix and Gore-Tex.
“Next is your compass,” he said as Alexis held up a basic model. “Combined with your topos it will keep you on the trail, enable you to identify landmarks or follow a bearing. With this, you won’t get lost.”
“I got lost in Nordstrom once,” Carla said. “They moved the cosmetics department to another floor, and it, like, totally discombobulated me.”
Heads nodded all around. “The Estée Lauder counter is my touchstone,” Jayne said. “I start from there and just fan out.”
“Doris has no mall sense at all,” Donna said, angling her head toward her sister. “She’s been known to ride the escalators up and down, just hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever store she’s after.”
“That’s not true,” Doris argued. “I was checking out the mall security guard. He was cute!”
Donna shook her head, clearly unconvinced.
Riley made a mental note to consider tying the group together on the first day, chain-gang style, so they wouldn’t get lost.
“I accidentally followed a UPS guy
into the men’s room at my office building once,” Kelly said, glancing down with pinked cheeks. “He looked so good in his uniform, I forgot where I was.”
They all sighed in commiseration. Even Jayne nodded.
Rolling his eyes, Riley waited for their attention to return to him. He would never, in a million years, understand women’s fascination with UPS men. Delivery guys in ugly brown shorts and matching shirts. What was the big deal, anyway?
“I don’t go to the mall at all,” Mitzi said. She popped her gum. “All those different entrances and color-coded parking lots confuse me, so I go to Target instead.”
Okay. He was definitely bringing a long length of rope for the first day. This group was directionally-challenged.
“Next up,” he said. “Water.”
Expertly, Alexis held up a liter bottle and pantomimed taking a drink. Grinning with the kind of enthusiasm only a thirteen-year-old girl could muster, she rubbed her skinny belly. Riley winked at her. “Nice job,” he mouthed.
He turned toward the group of women. “You need to stay hydrated. Water is—”
“Excuse me.” Jayne raised her hand. “I’m sorry. Is Evian okay?”
He smiled. Next she’d be asking if she could pack in an espresso machine. “It’s fine. But since a gallon of water weighs about eight pounds, there’s a limit to how much we can realistically haul in. So while we’re on the trail, we’ll use a combination of bottled water, filtered water, boiled water, and chemically treated water. I’ll go into the details tomorrow.”
She nodded and went back to fiddling with her necklace. Up, down went her hand on its gold chain. Gently, her fingers curled around the heavy pendant between her breasts. Rubbed. Riley briefly closed his eyes and made himself think about something besides how much he’d like to follow that same path.
He definitely had to get to the “two could play at that game” portion of this presentation.
“To go along with the water,” he said, watching as Alexis held up two foil packets, Vanna-White-style, “you’ll need food. Hiking and camping require plenty of energy.”
