Broken Trails

Scotch sat down across from her. “Doesn’t matter. You can use your sleep clothes. All you need are shorts and a t-shirt. That’s what I do.”

“Who’s going?” Lainey asked, more to keep her talking than to get an answer. She enjoyed hearing the woman’s voice, enjoyed the undertone of happiness there.

Scotch’s face became even more animated. “Pretty much everybody. You know the trail near the river?” At Lainey’s nod, she said, “About a hundred feet around the bend there’s a cove. We swim there every summer.”

Lainey looked at her article, chewing her lip. “I don’t know. I’ve really got to get this done…”

Scotch leaned forward, elbows on the table that showed its age as it wobbled from her weight. “There’s a rope swing,” she said, a slight wheedling tone coming into her voice.

Looking at her, Lainey could see flecks of dark mixed with the light blue of her irises. At this range, the freckles dusting Scotch’s slightly crooked and peeling nose were adorable. She felt her resolve waver, the call of playing with this woman far louder than the professional demand to get the job done and in early.

“You’re evil,” she finally said.

Realizing she had won, Scotch jumped up with a whoop. “All right!” She headed toward the stairs. “You can change here or at the river.”

Lainey stood, refusing to look at the article lest it cause her to change her mind. “Where do you change?” she asked.

Past the door and almost to the loft, Scotch grinned down at her. “At the river. Nothing like getting nekkid in the great outdoors.” She disappeared into her half of the sleeping loft.

Staring after her, Lainey felt alternating hot and cold. Surely Scotch was joking, not flirting. Wasn’t she?

She carefully put the very vivid image of a naked Scotch out of her mind. Her skin remained flushed, and she muttered under her breath, “God help me. Seven more months of this.”

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE DOGS WERE not pleased to be left behind. As the ATV roared away without them, they set up a clamor loud enough for Lainey to hear over the engine. She held on for dear life, as Scotch played dare devil, accelerating along the familiar trails at speeds Lainey had not attained. Not that holding Scotch was such a hardship on Lainey’s part. Had she known she would be allowed to cuddle against Scotch’s back, arms about her slim waist, she would have leapt at the chance to go to the swimming hole long ago.

As they traveled, Lainey tried to keep her lascivious thoughts in line, though her success rate left much to be desired. She mentally followed the trail, noting familiar landmarks, known distances, and turnoffs to other paths. Never mind that Scotch’s belly held just the right amount of give to it, indicating a muscled figure with the proper amount of curve to be interesting; or that even with the wind whipping by, the smell of Scotch’s hair was strong enough to induce Lainey into hyperventilation as she inhaled as deeply as possible again and again.

The vibration through the seat made thinking of anything else difficult, too.

Feeling deliciously illicit, Lainey leaned her cheek against Scotch’s back, soaking in her proximity. Without thought, she gave Scotch a gentle hug, only realizing what she had done when Scotch responded with a squeeze of her arm on Lainey’s. Horrified at her faux pas, Lainey attempted to release her, but was held firmly in place.

“Hang on!” Scotch called back.

Lainey, her insides as jittery as her emotions, signaled her understanding with another hug. Scotch patted her arm and returned to driving the ATV.

She closed her eyes, adding this latest interaction to the host of others she had gathered over the last month and a half. Sometimes it seemed Scotch was definitely gay. The woman often made comments that could be misconstrued in a certain way if she were so inclined. But, if she were straight, her remarks would seem normal in every day conversation. Even Howry had noticed, and the two of them had spent quite a bit of time comparing notes.

It was enough to make Lainey cry.

“Almost there.’

In an effort to distract herself, Lainey returned her attention to her surroundings. She recognized the trail though she had not taken the turn that Scotch drove toward. They dropped fairly fast down an incline, and she clutched at Scotch, feeling a rumble of laughter through her arms. The air become cooler almost immediately as they leveled off onto a trail that paralleled a river.

“When the river’s frozen, we take the dogs through here,” Scotch yelled. “There are more trails on the other side.’

The trees seemed to draw back as they pulled into a clearing already occupied by most of the Fuller clan. One of the trucks, sans dog trailer, sat off a dirt road with its tailgate down, its bed filled with a couple of coolers, an assortment of towels and Bon playing with a beach ball. His mother rummaged through one of the coolers for drinks. The clean smell of fresh water was disturbed by mesquite charcoal smoke as a barbecue squatted nearby, manned by Miguel. Two folding tables and a number of deck chairs clustered together, various picnic items scattered on their surfaces.

Scotch drove up to the truck and turned off the engine.

A whoop of sheer joy exploded into the sudden quiet. Lainey turned to see Howry, wearing a pair of shorts and ratty tennis shoes, swinging on a rope that hung from a tree looming over a small cove. At the apex of his swing, he let the rope go to fly a short way before hitting the water like a cannonball. Irish and another girl her age were already swimming, and yelled at his boisterous arrival in mock indignation.

Lainey’s brow furrowed at seeing the strange girl. She reluctantly released Scotch and dismounted the ATV, taking a closer look at the clearing.

The rope moved of its own accord. Lainey followed the action with confusion until she realized there was another rope attached to it, and someone was hoisting it back up the embankment for another round. A young man about Scotch’s age stood there, long brown hair tied back in a tail and a light beard adorning his jaw. He wore less than Howry, who had surfaced with another shout.

“Who’s that?” she asked, nodding toward the man, not too pleased with his physique. Obviously he worked out with regularity, and his tight swim trunks left little to the imagination.

Scotch, who had begun rummaging in a carry sack she had cradled between her legs for the trip, looked up and smiled. “That’s Martin Schram. His family lives right over that ridge.” She waved. ‘Hey, Martin!’

The man turned toward them and smiled when he saw Scotch. He waved back. ‘Get up here, Scotch! Let’s show these chechakos how to swim in Alaskan waters!’

Laughing, Scotch nodded and returned to her bag, pulling out her swimming gear.

Disgruntled, and trying not to show it, Lainey asked, ‘Chechakos?’

Scotch chuckled. ‘Newcomers, greenhorns, people who haven’t lived in Alaska before.’

“Oh.’

“Where’s Dad and Rye?” Scotch asked her mother.

Helen, playing catch with her youngest son in the back of the truck, said, ‘Soaking around the bend. Phyllis is with them.’

Scotch saw the question before Lainey could utter it. ‘Martin’s mom. And the girl with Irish is his sister, Teresa.” She scanned the vegetation a safe distance from the river. ‘We can probably change over there. If the others are soaking, they’ll be on the other side of those boulders.’

Lainey ignored the stab of jealousy as she watched Martin sail gracefully through the air to splash into the natural pool. It was not as if she had any claim to Scotch’s attention. Hell, she still had no true idea if Scotch was straight or not. It looked like the question would probably be answered here and now.