Red Paws Inn

by Robin Roseau

  “You have beautiful dogs,” Alyssa said. “I was never a dog person. Fur.” She made a face. “It gets everywhere.”

  “Pshaw. Labs are amateurs when it comes to fur,” I said. “These two are professionals.” I pulled Henry’s head down to kiss his forehead, deftly avoiding his attempt to trade the favor.

  She laughed. “I bet they are.”

  I looked over at her. “Thank you for my surprise.”

  “You’re welcome, Janis. How about we get me settled?”

  * * * *

  Twenty minutes later, Alyssa’s things carefully stowed in Cabin Three, we sat down in a couple of chairs in the lodge. Alyssa had brought wine, and I had a couple of glasses. “Mosquitoes are your only flaw. This would be better outside.”

  “I know,” I said.

  “They’re not so bad during the day. Why is that?”

  “They prefer calmer air,” I replied.

  “Maybe you need a big fan at one end of the deck.”

  “Maybe you’re right.”

  She held her glass out, and we tapped rims, then sipped, watching each other. “God, you’re beautiful,” I told her.

  She smiled broadly, which only enhanced the picture. “I just drove five hours in a car.”

  “And yet, you look ravishing.”

  “I should. I stopped ten minutes away and fixed everything.”

  I laughed. “Were you nervous?”

  “Yeah.” She set her glass down. “I want to talk business.”

  I snorted. “You know, with other women, that might be a turnoff.”

  “And yet, this is your life,” she said, making a gesture to the lodge. She lowered her tone and smiled again. “Does it turn you on making me a part of it?”

  “It does now!” I replied. I shook my head. “I never even thought about that.”

  “I brought my gear,” she said. “I’ll be taking a lot of photos and some video, and not just of the resort. If people want a fancy resort, they’ll go to some all-inclusive somewhere. So we need to remind people why they want to come here. Do you have time to show me?”

  “I can make time,” I said.

  “We’ll need to take some day trips. Are there any really good lookouts?”

  “All over,” I replied.

  “All right. Good. We’ve got good weather for a few days, but next weekend is supposed to storm, and you’re letting some posers use my cabin.”

  I laughed. “Sorry?”

  She waved a finger. “I want to be clear. Rentals come ahead of me.”

  “And you’ll pitch a tent if I kick you out of all the available rooms?”

  “No. I’ll go home. But Janis, I’ll come back.”

  * * * *

  We talked for hours, sharing the bottle and for much of it, holding hands. But eventually we grew quieter and quieter until finally Alyssa said, “I wonder what time it is?”

  “Really late,” I said.

  “Walk me to my cabin,” she ordered.

  I didn’t fight her. “Okay.”

  For the walk, we wrapped arms around each other. The dogs had long been sleeping, but they woke up as soon as we moved. Flapper looked at me with a look that said, “Are we finally going to bed? Oh, we’re going outside! Well then.” Still, they were played out, so although there was a lot of sniffing at bushes, they were fairly subdued.

  We reached Cabin Three. We’d left a light on, so it wasn’t utterly dark. But we stopped on the deck, turning to the lake to listen to the loons for a minute. But then Alyssa opened the door. The dogs ducked in ahead of her. She grabbed my hand and pulled me in behind her.

  “I’m not seducing you tonight,” she said. But she pulled me to her, and we wrapped arms around each other and stared into each other’s eyes. Alyssa brushed a wayward lock of hair from my face. I smiled. And then she pulled me closer.

  We met, and the resulting kiss was long, slow, lingering. It wasn’t the sort of kiss that said she was taking me to bed, but perhaps the sort that said she was thinking about it.

  We hugged tightly. “Thank you for coming,” I whispered.

  “It’s your busy season,” she said. “How much time do you have for me?”

  “Jenna is leading a trip on Wednesday. I’ll need to cover the lodge and boathouse while she’s gone.”

  “You run pretty lean and mean here. What did you do while both of you were gone the first time I was here?”

  “During the summer, Jenna’s mother is flexible,” I explained. “She doesn’t do trips, but she’s a better fisherman than I am.”

  “So tomorrow?”

  “I’m yours.”

  “Excellent.” She gave me a peck. “Go. And take your hounds with you.”

  “I think all of them are on your bed.” I smiled. “Flapper. Henry! Let’s go.”

  I heard a grunt and a couple of thumps, then the two dogs appeared. Yep, they’d been on the bed.

  * * * *

  “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

  “Go away, Jenna.”

  “It’s not Jenna.” Lips brushed my ear.

  I opened my eyes and smiled. “Good morning, Alyssa.”

  “Ah, you remember my name,” she said.

  “Where are the dogs?”

  “All three are down at the water chasing tennis balls. Jenna says she’s pretty sure the two of us can drag you to the lake if you don’t get up.”

  I sat. “I’m up. I’m up.” I blinked at her. “What time is it?”

  “Nearly noon.”

  “It is not!” I said. “Oh shit!” Alyssa began laughing. I narrowed my eyes. “You’re a shit.”

  “I’ve been called worse,” she said. “It’s a little after eight. Get dressed. Have breakfast with me. Then you’re taking me to your favorite overlook.”

  “My favorite is a drive and a hike,” I said.

  “Dog friendly?”

  “I put tracking collars on mine, in case they take off. They never have, but I don’t want to risk it.”

  “Tracking collars?”

  “They have integrated GPS units, and they report back their location.”

  “Oh wow,” she said. “Seriously.”

  “The range is limited. They make a kind that talks via cell tower, but that’s pretty hit or miss up here. I’m sorry, but I only have two.”

  “That’s okay. Blues will stay close.”

  I hoped she was right.

  * * * *

  I showered and dressed then met Alyssa in the dining hall. Two other tables held guests, and so I offered greetings before sitting down across from Alyssa. We smiled at each other, and then she poured coffee for me. I doctored it and took a gulp, then smiled again.

  I found myself doing that a lot around her. And I liked it, but at the same time, it had me nervous.

  The writing was on the wall. It was definitely on the wall, and I felt helpless to events. I was sure I was going to get my heart crushed. My heart, and indeed, my entire body – was telling me, “Deal with it.”

  But I definitely felt like I was along for a ride I didn’t control. I wasn’t sure any longer whether I wanted to control it.

  “Like my new boots?” She presented a foot.

  “Very nice,” I said.

  “There was a very wholesome saleswoman at REI,” Alyssa explained. She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “She wanted me, but I told her my heart was stolen by a ravishing resort owner.”

  “She did not, and you did not!” I complained.

  “I might have taken her up on the offer, but she was sixteen if she was a day.”

  I laughed. “I would not have expected to say this about you, but you’re a goof.”

  “I feel like a new woman,” she explained. “I’ll never stop missing Caroline, but once I decided it was time to move on, things changed.”

  “I suppose they would,” I said.

  “I was the serious one,” she added. “She was the fun one.” She smiled. “I’m trying that on for size. What do you think?” />
  “It suits you,” I said. I gestured at the boots. “New boots. It’s not too long a hike, so you should be okay.”

  “I’m not sure what you’re saying.”

  “The child at REI should have talked to you about breaking in the new boots,” I explained. “Wear them a little a day, but change into something else when we get back.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Unless you like blisters.”

  “You’re the expert,” she said quickly.

  * * * *

  We made small talk over breakfast. Then we collected three dogs, made sure Jenna knew our plans, and hopped into my car.

  “It’s so beautiful up here,” Alyssa said, five minutes into the drive. “I suppose this is the best season.”

  “My opinion?” I prompted.

  “Always.”

  “I love all the seasons,” I told her. “They’re different. They’re very different.”

  “I suppose it’s beautiful in autumn.”

  “Yes,” I agreed. “No mosquitoes, and the cooler temperatures make it easier to be more strenuous. And no crowds.”

  “Winter?”

  “Cold, but the snow is white and crisp.”

  “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas,” she sang.

  I smiled and nodded. “Absolutely,” I said. “And while I don’t like the bare trees, we have enough evergreens that it isn’t all grey. There’s still green. It’s stark, but beautiful. I actually think it’s the most attractive time for the lodge. There’s something inviting about the lodge lit up, and a toasty fire going.”

  “Oh, I bet,” she agreed. “Spring?”

  “It arrives later here than in the cities,” I pointed out. “We can get canoers as soon as the ice is out, although it’s not my favorite time. We discourage some of the routes. The conditions can be poor. It’s a busy maintenance time for us. We go through each cabin and make sure it’s perfect.” I smiled. “I love when the birds start coming back.”

  She returned my smile then reached over and took my hand. I turned back to the road, but it was hard to keep my focus when she lifted my hand to her lips and kissed the knuckles. “I love your passion, Janis.”

  * * * *

  It was a good hike, but I was watching Alyssa as we stepped from the trees. Her eyes looked like they would pop from her head. “Oh. My. God.” She stepped forward, holding out her hand towards me. I took it, and together we came to a stop. “Oh. My. God.”

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  She pointed to the lake at the foot of our amazing view. “Is that Little Bend?”

  “No. That’s Lower Kraft Lake,” I said. “Let’s orient you. We’re facing northwest. You can tell by the sun and the time.”

  “The sun is there.” She pointed to a point behind and overhead.

  “Yes. And that way,” I gestured to the southeast. “We can’t see it from here, although you could from a pretty low airplane. That’s where Lake Superior is. This lake,” and I gestured to Lower Kraft, “Is actually outside the BWCA. You can’t see from here, but that end,” I gestured towards our left. “There’s a stream that empties into the lake. It’s actually a shallow rapids that turns pretty dry by the end of the summer, unless we get a lot of rain.”

  “How does a stream turn dry?”

  “Most years, most of the lakes are highest in the spring, full with spring runoff. They can be anywhere from a few inches to a foot and a half lower by late autumn, if it’s a dry summer.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep. Lakes are fed from a variety of sources. Springs, but that water is just a delayed version of the others, although probably steadier. Streams, which is really just water from another lake, and runoff, both from winter snow and rain during the rest of the season.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  “So that rapids. It’s about three quarters of a mile to Upper Kraft Lake.” I gestured. “About there, to the north.”

  “Okay.”

  “And Little Bend is there.” I gestured further west. “There’s a portage between the two lakes. It goes through lowlands and can be difficult when wet but pretty easy when dry.” I made a sweeping gesture to the view before us. “This is my favorite lookout that’s easy to get to. There are better views, but they’re overnight trips.”

  “Can we sit?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Not too near the edge. It can be crumbly.”

  We sat down, leaning against each other, still holding hands. Alyssa laid her head on my shoulder. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  “You’re welcome.” I squeezed her hand.

  We sat quietly for several minutes, and then I said, “And that’s one of the reasons I love coming here.” I pointed with my free hand.

  She lifted her head and turned. “What am I looking for?”

  “The eagle.”

  “Eagle?”

  “You know. The national bird?” I prompted with a smile.

  “I know what an eagle is,” she said. She leaned forward a little. “That’s an eagle?”

  “You haven’t noticed them before?”

  “I wasn’t paying sufficient attention. What’s it doing?”

  “Making breakfast.”

  “Toast and bacon?”

  “More like fish,” I said. “They’re also fond of ducklings and baby loons.”

  “No!”

  “A bird has to eat,” I said simply.

  “Not baby loons!”

  “You prefer they stick to ducklings, then?”

  “I prefer they went vegetarian!”

  I laughed. “Hypocrite.”

  “You don’t see me swooping down on baby loons, snatching them from their mothers’ feathers.”

  “Tell me you’ve never had lamb,” I said. “You do know what a lamb is, right?” I made a baaa sound.

  “That’s different,” she said, sounding offended. I didn’t think she really was.

  “Why is it different?”

  “Because I’m not the one doing the swooping.”

  I laughed again. “Hypocrite,” I repeated. I continued to chuckle.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Well, I was, now I’m laughing at something else.”

  “Do tell.” Her tone was cold.

  “Four or five years ago, I had to break up a fight.”

  “Before you owned the place?”

  “Yeah. I was up helping Grams with Memorial Day. And a woman went insane on her husband.”

  “Oh, shit.”

  “She was beating the crap out of him. He was standing there laughing, covering his head with his arms, but otherwise not doing a thing to fend her off.”

  Alyssa narrowed her eyes. “I bet he deserved it.”

  “You’d be right.”

  “What had he done?”

  “You know the opening scene to The Lion King, where the monkey holds up Baby Simba?”

  “He was holding his kid that way?”

  “No, no.” But I lifted my hands as if I was holding something up to the sky. “Shitty little dog,” I said. “Here, eagle, eagle, eagle.”

  Alyssa began loudly laughing. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It was his wife’s, and it really was a little shit of a dog. Not even Henry liked him, and Henry likes everyone.”

  “The guy or the dog?”

  “Oh, Henry loved the guy, and the guy loved Henry and Flapper. He’d throw tennis balls for an hour. No, the dog. Didn’t play well with others.”

  “Still, that’s pretty shitty.”

  “Well, I did agree he deserved his wife’s reaction.”

  We sat there for the next several minutes. Alyssa chuckled a few times, and even held her hands up once, cradling an imaginary tiny dog, and said, “Here, eagle, eagle, eagle.” She turned to me. “That’s terrible.”

  “And we’re laughing about it,” I pointed out. “In fairness, the dog was fine, and I got the impression the wife was accustomed to her husband’s twiste
d sense of humor. They’d been married for a decade, but they treated each other like new lovers.”

  “That’s sweet,” she replied. She turned and looked into my eyes. “That sort of relationship takes work.”

  “I don’t think it’s work. I think it’s devotion. It’s finding ways to keep it fresh.”

  “Yeah,” she said. She offered a smile then turned back to the view. “I’m going to take photos.” She pulled out her camera, a rather fancy affair, checked the settings, and then began taking photos. She was slow and deliberate about it. The eagle flew closer, and she shifted her focus, but then she pulled something else from her bag. It took a minute before I realized she had a monopod for the camera. She attached it then looked for the eagle. After a moment, she had her eye back to the viewfinder, and then she took a series of photos. When finally she looked at me, she was smiling broadly.

  “Good photos?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “What else can you show me today?”

  * * * *

  With grunts, the dogs plopped down on the floor of Alyssa’s cabin. It was dusk, and we’d had a full day. I’d eventually had duties, but Alyssa stayed with me, encouraging me to teach her how to do whatever I was doing.

  “Grab a seat,” she said, gesturing to the dinette table. I took a chair and watched as she pulled out her laptop and camera. She opened the laptop then removed the card from her camera and inserted it into a slot in her computer.

  It took time. I spent it watching her.

  Even like this, even after a day of what was unfamiliar activity for her, she looked amazing, and I couldn’t take my eyes from her.

  I could tell when the photos had uploaded, and she began browsing through them. Her face went through a variety of expressions. I couldn’t really describe them, but there were clear shifts as she went from photo to photo. Then she stopped and stared for a while.

  “What?” I asked. I leaned forward to try to peek at her laptop screen, but she pulled it away from me. “Hey!” I complained.

  “It’s nothing.”

  “It isn’t nothing,” I said. “Show me.”

  She clicked twice then turned the machine around to a picture of the dogs playing. “Click back,” I ordered. So she clicked, and then again, and I was sure she was going the wrong way.

  I folded my arms. “I thought we were being honest with each other.”