Though beat from her all-day hike in from Fish Creek, Gloria's pace quickened for the final uphill push into the yard at the Lodge. She was exhausted, having spent five nights a.s.serting her dominance over last year's orphan yearling which could very easily become a problem bear. The first three nights, she'd chased him out of her camp making as much noise as she could. She'd shot him with rubber bullets so he'd a.s.sociate pain with humans and start looking for food elsewhere. The gangly black bear was already drawn to her food canisters, which told her that he'd been lucky visiting camps the year before. She was fairly pleased with her progress-he had not visited her camp the last two nights. Maybe it wasn't too late to turn him around. If only she could trust all of his encounters with humans to be consistent.

The ignorant and lazy tourists could very well drive her insane. They were worst in Yosemite. People who covered their food in their cars imagining they could hide the meal from the bear, not understanding that their paws worked just fine as can openers on any vehicle. That big metal box that the state had installed at the campsite? No, please don't use it. Take your chances leaving your food just outside your tent. Better yet, have that late-night snack of an apple or banana and leave the core or peel just outside the door of your tent.

Then, when a bear damages your property, certainly DO freak out and blame the Forest Service or Fish and Wildlife for not doing their job to protect you and your family during your time in the park.

Gloria steamed but tried to remind herself to let go of the frustrations of her job. She tried to see herself as the mediator. She just wished that she could train some of the humans with her rubber bullets instead of turning them toward the bears.

Now she was thinking about Kristine again. Lovely Kristine who refused to bottle her frustration, at least with Dozer. The thought of Kristine's hoot of laughter when they'd recalled her shot again brought a smile to Gloria's face. Then she froze. That wasn't just the thought of Kristine's laughter. It was Kristine's laughter, rich and booming, flowing down the trail to her. She slowed as she walked parallel to a corral full of mules and spotted the cowgirl sitting in front of the store. Three young girls sat with her, all laughing, all riveted by Kristine.

She sure has a draw, Gloria acknowledged, wishing she'd heard what made them all laugh so hard. She looked down at her filthy self, days of sweat caked onto her skin, her Fish and Wildlife tee and trousers slept in, scrunched into her pack, pulled back on again, far from how pressed they'd been when she left. She'd hoped to run into Kristine but not before she'd had a chance to shower and change into a fresh set of clothes.

As she dithered about walking across the yard, she noticed the wattage of the smile the girl sitting on Kristine, well practically on, okay, on a closer look, next to, but really close to, more so than a casual acquaintance would sit, next to Kristine. Kristine returned the smile, and Gloria felt a flash of anger. Had she been playing with Gloria with her talk of friendship? She'd seemed so frank about it that it hadn't occurred to Gloria to think that she just wasn't attracted to her.

Gloria scolded herself for the emotional reaction, reminding herself that she had accepted Kristine's invitation of friendship. Thus, she told herself, no reason to be jealous or angry, and no reason to think that she needed to clean up. Friends didn't need to look good for the other. Chin high, she strode into the yard.

"Gloria!"

Gloria's traitorous heart jumped when Kristine called her name. She was already waving off the three girls and jogging toward Gloria with a smile brighter than the one she'd just seen plastered to her face. Today she wore no riding gear, just her skintight jeans and an untucked tee with The Lodge's logo blazed across her chest. Gloria tried to keep her eyes trained above it.

"Hey," Kristine said.

For a moment, Gloria thought Kristine wanted to hug her. Her arms came up but then she quickly tucked them into her pockets, her thumbs hanging out adorably. Gloria realized she still had her heavy pack on her back. Once she was out of it, she would hate to have to put it back on again. She glanced toward the road leading down to the campground.

"Hope I'm not looking like a creepy stalker right about now. I really did have to come down for hay cubes for a trip that's going out tomorrow." She motioned to her truck parked by a metal feed shed. "I got to chatting with the day-ride crew and thought maybe you'd be up the trail today. Let me take your pack, drive you home?"

Gloria laughed at her babble.

"What?"

"You're the one chattering away like you've been your only company for five days."

"Yeah? Well." That same bright smile swept across her face. "I missed your company."

"Then, by all means, drive me home."

Kristine helped Gloria off with her pack and tossed it in the bed of her truck.

"Either you ate every ounce of food you took in there, or that s.p.a.ce-aged food doesn't weigh a thing," she laughed.

"I'm sure it just feels light in comparison to those feed sacks," she said, motioning to the back of the truck. "Too bad I missed you breaking butch. Showing off for the girls?"

"Hardly. More like cracking the whip."

"Are you trying to bait me?" Gloria said, running her eyes over Kristine's body.

Kristine smiled mischievously. "How'd it go down at Fish Creek?" she asked, redirecting the conversation as she pulled out onto the road.

Gloria slumped against the seat, tired to her core. "Touch and go. Whether this bear makes it or not totally rests with the contact he has with humans this season. I really hope we can turn him around."

"Sure he wasn't just hitting on you? Could be he was just noticing the pretty new woman in town."

Gloria swatted her weakly.

"I think I'd better take you home, get some real food into you."

"As good as that sounds, a shower sounds better."

"We have plenty of hot water, and Gabe's cooking tonight. I can't guarantee it'll be good, but I can tell you it'll be better than your camp food."

Gloria's head rolled to the side. "I'm too tired to argue."

"Good."

"But I'll do dinner next." That was what friends did, she told herself.

"Sounds good to me."

Gloria couldn't help closing her eyes as Kristine drove to The Aspen Outpost down the road. Kristine kept a steady conversation on the short drive, full of details about her various trips, the stock, her guests. She had no shortage of material and masterfully shaped it into a fun narrative. Gloria relaxed and listened, enjoying how good it felt to be in her company.

"What's that smile for? Are you laughing at how much I talk? I can stop anytime."

"No, please don't. I was just sitting here thinking about how much fun you must make the overnight trips with your storytelling."

"Yeah, used to."

Gloria's brows creased in confusion. Kristine's answers were rarely so brief. "But..." she prompted. Kristine's pause before answering sparked Gloria's curiosity again. She looked like she was at a fork in the trail, considering which direction to take.

"But that's not our job at the outpost," she said with a little hesitation in her voice. After a brief silence, she seemed to recover and launched into her more typical delivery. "We'll occasionally help a longer trip, like packing in food for the stock. That's why I had to make the run into the Lodge for these hay cubes. There's a base camp up at Garnet, and they lost a bunch of their stock the first day..."

"Lost them?" Gloria sat up, alarmed.

"Not lost, lost. They came home for supper. Gabe will run the stock back in tomorrow and set them up with feed, so the packer out there doesn't have to worry about keeping his stock from running home again."

Gloria noticed that Kristine's answer was centered on another story about this season, rather than explaining why she no longer took overnight trips out. "Don't you miss those trips? The overnight trips take you further back into the wilderness, don't they?" Again, Gloria saw Kristine tense when she steered the topic back to overnighters. Their easy flow of conversation had hit a snag again. Kristine smiled at her as if to apologize, and her eyes, in the flash that they connected with Gloria's, expressed both sadness and discovery.

"I do," Kristine answered simply.

Before Gloria could even consider pushing the subject further, Kristine pulled into the outpost which looked to be roughly a third of the size of the setup at the Lodge. It had a similar layout to the larger outfit: stock corralled in several paddocks by the side of the road, a saddle shed in the center of the yard, tie-rails on either side. Their pack dock sat between the saddle shed and a cabin, which she a.s.sumed Kristine shared with Gabe. She smiled at its placement, tucked at the edge of a lovely grove of aspens. An evening breeze made their silvery leaves dance.

"It's so tidy," she observed as they walked through the working area to the cabin. "Is it always like this?"

"Being so close to the road, Leo has a thing about the yard being spotless. Trying to make a good impression and all." Her hand paused on the doork.n.o.b of the cabin, and she turned and wiggled her eyebrows, "But this is where it ends."

Gloria couldn't contain her gasp at the contrast when she stepped inside. Kristine kicked her boots off at the door and hung her hat on some antlers mounted on the wall. A sock-footed, hatless Gabe stood at the small stove, spatula in hand, and what looked like every dish in the place stacked on the counter behind him. He waved the spatula at Gloria.

"Ms. Fisher, what a surprise!" Gabe said. Gloria read the twinkle in his eye and saw him look from her to Kristine and back again.

"Hope you made enough for three," Kristine said, swatting her brother's attention back to the stove in front of him.

Gloria removed her own boots and took in the living s.p.a.ce that was littered with piles of clothes, clean or dirty she couldn't determine. Her survey stopped at a pile of shoeing gear and horseshoes that took up an entire corner. "The stock has to take off its shoes, too?"

The siblings laughed in stereo, Gabe from the kitchen and Kristine from the hallway.

"Of course. They're just in the bathroom cleaning up," Gabe offered.

"I'll shoo them out, so you can have a turn," Kristine said, disappearing.

Gloria smiled again at Gabe, at the picture of the cowboy at home in the absurdly disheveled kitchen. "I hope I'm not putting you out by joining you."

"Oh, no. I was all set to head over to the Lodge for the evening, but..." A surprised look crossed his face, and Gloria caught Kristine's glare out of the bathroom door. She glanced back to Gabe, and he whispered, "Insurance."

"Oh?" Gloria asked, surprised. Remembering the charge between them when she'd hugged Kristine, she wondered if Kristine was having trouble sticking to her own resolve to be just friends. She picked up an apple from the kitchen, polishing it above her right breast as she approached Kristine. As they pa.s.sed in the hallway, she handed the apple to Kristine.

Kristine held her eye contact as she accepted the apple. She spun it a few times, pressed it to her lips and inhaled deeply. She arched an eyebrow and lowered the apple without taking a bite. "Wouldn't want to spoil supper," she said, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "I left some clean clothes for you."

Again, Gloria felt the heat between them and couldn't understand Kristine's reluctance to explore their spark. It had to be more than overcoming her past reputation. She shut the door, stripped down quickly, and stepped into the gloriously warm shower.

She scrubbed quickly and furiously, feeling self-conscious showering so close to where both Gabe and Kristine worked. She felt vulnerable out of her clothes and away from the siblings who, no doubt, were talking about her. Neatly folded sweats and a tee sat on the bathroom cabinet next to the towel which Gloria grabbed. Gratefully, she slipped into them and emerged from the bathroom. As she figured, Gabe and Kristine grew silent at her approach. She continued to stare at Kristine, willing herself to look away, but unable to do so. Kristine didn't break their eye contact either, just stayed in an all-too alluring pose leaning up against the counter.

"Feel better?" It was Gabe who finally snapped them out of their staring contest.

"Much. After five days in the backcountry, I really needed that. I think I used all your hot water."

"That's okay. I'm sure Kristine's ready for a cold one now," Gabe quipped, earning him one of the many swats of the evening.

"I apologize for my brother," Kristine said. "He's the type to think that just because two ladies play for the same team, they'd like to play with each other."

The two of them continued to needle each other good-humoredly in between questions directed at Gloria about her trip. They found the perfect balance, never making Gloria feel pressured to fill the silence but never making her feel left out, either. After dinner, Gloria volunteered to do the dishes. Kristine took up her maddening pose next to her under the pretense of drying the dishes, and Gabe played a few songs on his guitar. She wanted to stay longer but when she couldn't deny that her eyes refused to stay open any longer, she let Kristine drive her home.

"Sorry I'm such lousy company," she said, watching Kristine's hands on the wheel as she handled the curves of the road.

"You're great company," Kristine said, her vibrant smile directed at Gloria.

"It beats hanging around with your cowboy friends?"

"That and then some," Kristine said.

Gloria leaned back against the seat and shut her eyes momentarily, comparing this to other times a woman had driven her home. Instead of running through scenarios about whether they would kiss and how far things might go, she found herself thinking about the value Kristine obviously placed on company. Good company. When was the last time she'd heard someone talk about good company? She had to admit that Kristine was good company, and it felt nice to share an evening with someone who asked questions about her, listened to what she had to say and shared her own ideas. Suddenly, Kristine's warm hand was on her shoulder and quiet surrounded them. She didn't remember falling asleep and hadn't even noticed when Kristine cut the engine. When her eyes snapped open, she asked how long she'd been asleep.

"A few minutes. You looked too peaceful to wake, but it's getting colder," Kristine said.

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 s.e.xual 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 b.r.e.a.s.t.s, 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 a.s.sess 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 s.p.a.ce 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."