Sandra Field - Untouched

‘Can’t,’ said Ryan. ‘Takin’ Grace to the bingo social on the weekend.’

There was a small silence, during which Finn Marston’s gaze locked with Jenessa’s and Ryan filled the kettle. Hugging her bare knees, Jenessa refused to let her eyes drop. Consequently she was the first to see in her adversary’s face something that could have been the beginnings of respect. He let go of the ladder and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘How about if I take back everything I’ve said so far and start over? Will you listen? At least give me a fair hearing?’

‘I might,’ she said, raising her chin.

It was not an overwhelming endorsement; but plainly he realized it was all he was going to get. He paused, searching for words. ‘I live in a man’s world, Jenessa Reed. It’s a tough and dangerous world, and I’m at the top of the heap—I’m the one who gives the orders and I expect instant obedience. Because if you don’t obey you can end up dead. I’ve had very little to do with women the last few years, and I’ve never had a whole lot of respect for them. So the thought of being guided through the wilderness by a woman didn’t—and still doesn‘t—fill me with joy. Although I was tired last night and less than diplomatic, my feelings are the same today. I’d much prefer you to be a man.’

He gave her a smile that was a mere movement of his lips. ‘It would also seem that I have no choice—you’re the only guide available. So I’m asking you to reconsider.’

‘You’re honest,’ she said slowly, ‘I’ll give you that.’

‘I’ve never had much use for lying. Honesty saves trouble in the long run.’

A pragmatist rather than a moralist, Jenessa thought. The workings of Finn Marston’s mind were beginning to interest her rather more than she liked; simultaneously her intuition was warning her to run a mile. She said, ‘I’ll be equally honest, then. I’m not really in a position where I can afford to turn down a week’s work; the winters are long around here. But I won’t take a penny more than seven hundred a week, and if we’re in a tight spot out in the woods and I tell you to do something I’ll expect you to obey me. No questions asked. We can have a lovely argument afterwards about male dominance—but at the time you’ll do what I say.’

‘Because it’s your territory.’

‘That’s right.’ She smiled suddenly, a smile that lit up her face. ‘I’ve never lost a client yet, and I don’t plan to start with you.’

While he didn’t smile back, his face did relax slightly. ‘Eight hundred a week.’

‘Seven.’

The kettle screamed on the stove and Ryan banged three pottery mugs on the table. Spooning instant coffee into them, he said, ‘Quit fightin’, you two. If you’re hell-bent on overpayin’ her, Marston, tip her at the end of the trip.’ His grin was frankly malicious. ‘Let’s drink to the partnership, eh? One thing’s for sure—I doubt it’ll be dull.’

Finn Marston turned away from her and Jenessa scrambled down the ladder. Somehow, in the last ten minutes, she had agreed to go to an undisclosed destination for an unknown length of time with a man who set off all her alarm bells. She put a healthy dollop of honey in her mug and watched as Ryan sloshed in the boiling water. ‘You haven’t told me yet where we’re going or for how long you’ve hired me, Mr Marston,’ she said.

‘I’ve got all the maps back at the motel. Maybe we could go there next and I can show you; it’d be simpler than trying to explain it here. I don’t have any idea how long it’ll take. I do know I don’t have any time to waste—I probably shouldn’t be here at all. So we’ll be moving as fast as we can.’

‘At least tell me if we’re going into the interior.’

‘That’s the understatement of the year,’ he said, his voice holding an edge of bitterness.

‘Do you have knee-high rubber boots?’

‘Not with me.’

‘We’ll go to a supplier in town and get you a pair,’ she said. ‘Leather hiking boots are useless in a bog.’

‘All right,’ he said.

For the first time she saw a flash of humor glint in his eyes. She chuckled, beguiled by the way it had lightened his features. ‘Instant obedience,’ she remarked. ‘You learn fast.’

‘You’re the only guide available—right?’ he said drily. Turning to Ryan, he asked, ‘What kind of duck is that?’

Ryan loved to talk about his decoys and was soon launched on one of his many hunting stories. Jenessa drank her coffee then pushed back from the table. ‘I’m going to change; I’ll be back in a few minutes,’ she said.

Ten minutes later, showered and dressed in jeans, a plain short-sleeved safari shirt and sandals, she was back in the kitchen, her over-long hair clinging damply to her neck. Finn Marston stood up as soon as she entered. ‘Thanks for the coffee, Ryan,’ he said.

‘Any time.’ Ryan gave an uncouth cackle. ‘Don’t run from a black bear and don’t let the stouts bite ya.’

Jenessa raised her brows and led the way out of the kitchen. ‘A black bear can run forty-five miles an hour out on the barrens,’ she explained, leading the way to her red van. ‘So there’s not much point in trying to run away from one. And a stout’s the Newfoundland version of a deer fly—unceasingly hungry and oblivious to any brand of fly dope that I’ve ever tried. They’ve been known to drive caribou crazy in the early summer.’

‘Are you trying to discourage me?’

‘And talk myself out of seven hundred a week?’ she said limpidly, starting the motor and steering the van between the potholes in Ryan’s driveway.

‘You don’t work just for money.’

‘I work because I love being outdoors,’ Jenessa said with sudden intensity. ‘I couldn’t bear to be cooped up in an office all day.’

‘I suffer from the same problem,’ he said. ‘What’s your relationship to Ryan?’

His change of subject made her edgy. ‘He was my father’s best friend, and he taught me just about everything I know about the woods. I’ve lived with him since I was sixteen.’

‘But your father died when you were thirteen. Did you live with your mother for the next three years?’

That three years had been the worst time of Jenessa’s life. Braking at a stop sign, she said carefully, ‘Would you be asking me these kinds of questions—personal ones, I mean—if I were a man?’

‘You’re not.’

She crossed the street, driving past a row of small bungalows and deciding that two could play that game. ‘Why don’t you have much respect for women?’ she asked.

He gave a short laugh. ‘There are no flies on you, stout or otherwise. By the way, I didn’t bring any fly dope—maybe we could buy some.’

‘I’ve got lots. The flies aren’t that bad now; we’ve had a few cold nights.’ She swung round a corner, aware that he hadn’t answered her question any more than she had answered his. ‘We’ll get the boots from my friend Stevie; he’s the only one in town who carries them. Have you got rain gear, Mr Marston?’

‘As we’re going to be spending the next few days together, why don’t we go with Finn and Jenessa?’ he said impatiently.

Normally Jenessa preferred being on a first-name basis. But for a reason she couldn’t fathom, hearing her name on Finn’s lips made her feel as though he was laying claim to some part of her, a part that was strictly her own. Chiding herself for being overly imaginative, she said coolly, ‘Fine. Rain gear?’

He nodded. Efficiently she ran through a list of personal gear he’d need, finishing, ‘We supply tents and sleeping-bags and all the food. Here we are... Ruth’s home, by the look of it, but not Stevie.’

Ruth greeted them cheerfully, clearly impressed by Jenessa’s latest client. She led them to the room in the basement where she and Stevie sold a wide array of hunting and fishing equipment, and pulled out a stack of boxes. ‘Your size should be here,’ she said to Finn. ‘Try them on and feel free to walk around outdoors in them.’