“Jack, if the point you’re trying to make is that one of your flesh and blood legs is always going to be shorter than the other, I get it, I really do. But right now what I’m most afraid of is that when I get to the end of my life I might regret the things I never did, so I just wanted you to know that I care about you and I don’t regret last night. If these next two days together are all we ever have, I’m going to make the most of them. Whatever happens in our future, so be it. At least I’ll have no regrets about what happened in the here and now.”
To prove her point, she bent over him and kissed him. Her kiss was passionate, hungry, high voltage. She wanted to tear his clothes off, devour him, and his reaction was equally voracious. She ended up in his lap and things might have gone a whole lot further, but when they came up for air she gasped out, between breaths, “There’s just one problem, and it’s a big one. Tell me you brought protection, Jack, please tell me you did, because last night was a little risky.”
After a moment of stunned silence, Jack laughed. “You really think I hiked into the wilderness all by myself, carrying condoms, just in case?”
She slumped against him with a frustrated moan.
“If what we feel for each other is real, we can wait a few more days,” Jack said.
“But what if these next two days are all we ever have?”
“They won’t be. Life doesn’t work like that. You can’t just turn your feelings on and off like the radio.”
“Roy did.”
“I’m not Roy.”
Cameron smothered a laugh against his chest. “No, you sure aren’t,” she said. “Roy never said no to sex, just so long as the one proposing it was female.” She sighed and pushed out of his lap. “There’s no sense torturing ourselves. I’m going to go pick some raspberries in that patch behind the cabin. They’re just coming ripe. I can make a cobbler, maybe, with what’s left of the sugar I scraped off the ground and the biscuit mix. If we can’t have sex, we can at least eat good. I’ll fix char steaks and raspberry cobbler for supper.”
Jack watched her straighten her clothes and his head dropped back with a groan.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
JACK WAS CUTTING firewood with a vengeance when Cameron took a one quart saucepan and went out to the small clearing with the raspberry bushes, located behind the outhouse. She was between the cabin and the outhouse, following the path, when she noticed a metallic gleam between the path and the river, and paused. She scuffed the earth with her toe and revealed a section of rusted chain, then bent and pulled on the chain, lifting another longer section. That section had a small eighteen-inch length of chain fastened to it, with a steel swivel snap on the end. She continued unearthing the chain from its covering of woodruff until she had exposed the entire length, which was a good twenty feet long and tethered between two black spruce. There were eight shorter and lighter lengths of chain attached to the main cable, each with a swivel snap on the end.
She’d seen similar setups at the musher’s kennels and at checkpoints during the Yukon Quest sled dog race. They were called picket lines, and sled dogs were tethered to them during rest stops. Perhaps the trapper who built this cabin had used a dog team to get in and out in winter, and perhaps the dog under the cabin was an escaped member of that team. She almost turned around to tell Jack about her discovery, then realized it was getting late and continued toward the raspberry patch instead.
She could smell the raspberries in the warmth of the late-afternoon sun. The patch in the clearing wasn’t very big, maybe twenty feet square, but she’d easily get enough for a cobbler. The raspberries plinked as she dropped the first ones into the pan, then the sound grew muted as the pan quickly filled. She moved around the nearest edge of the patch and thought about the conversation she’d just shared with Jack. They hadn’t actually talked about the future, but in a way they had. Only...nothing had really changed. He didn’t say he was getting out of the military because he didn’t want to say goodbye. He was perfectly willing to share the night with her, but as far as sharing anything more than that, he’d been very noncommittal.
As she picked, she became aware there were quite a few yellow jackets moving around in the middle of the patch, and she paused to watch them. There was a ground nest in there, somewhere, and she wasn’t going to stumble into it. She’d done enough stumbling into catastrophes lately, and the last thing she needed was to get stung by a colony of wasps. She had enough berries to make a cobbler. Time to go.
She started to turn around and noticed that the patch beyond the moving wasps had been crushed flat. She studied it for a moment. A bear had been in here, and not too long ago, judging by the way the wasps were still flying around. She was lucky she hadn’t been stung. It wasn’t an unusual thing to see signs of a bear in a berry patch. The smell of the raspberries would draw them like a magnet, but this little patch wasn’t all that far from the cabin. Which meant the bear that broke into the cabin might still be in the vicinity.
Cameron returned to the cabin, to the welcome sound of Jack chopping firewood. He straightened from the task when she reached the clearing, ax dangling in one hand.
“Got enough for a cobbler,” she said, holding up the pan. “But I wasn’t the only one berrying. A bear was in there not too long ago, got some wasps all stirred up. Jack, we should think about catching Mama Dog as soon as possible. If that’s the same bear that broke into the camp and had such a good feast, sooner or later it’ll be back. We have to get Mama Dog and the pup, and get back on the river as soon as possible. She’s not totally wild, and I think I know how she got there. The trapper who built this cabin comes here during the winter and must travel in by dog team. I found a picket line for his team out back of the cabin. That dog must’ve been part of his team last winter, and she got loose and he couldn’t catch her again. Some of those village dogs can be pretty spooky if they aren’t socialized well, but I bet if we could just get our hands on her, get a collar on her, she’d be okay.”
“If the trapper who owned her couldn’t catch her, I don’t see how we’ll be able to do it. If she’s got a pup, she was running with the wolves. She’s turned wild.”
“Maybe, but we have a big advantage that he didn’t have,” Cameron said. “Right now she’s denned under the camp, and she’s not going to leave her pup. When I was stuck in the hole, she was trapped in there and couldn’t get past me. I could crawl under there again, only I’d go in all the way this time. You could block the hole while I try to get a collar on her.”
Jack shook his head. “She’ll tear you to shreds. Take a look at yourself in the mirror by the cabin sink. Do you really want to add bite marks to those injuries?”
“I don’t think she’ll bite me. She’s been a sled dog. She knows what a collar and a harness is. She might snap a little, but I don’t think she’ll bite. How else will we be able to get our hands on her in a short amount of time?”
Jack rubbed the beard on his jaw. “You’re not going back under there.”
“But I’ve already been under the cabin with her, and she didn’t attack me. She just growled and bared her teeth, but she was backed into a corner and I was messing with her pup.”
Jack thought for a moment. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. It’s getting late, and I have to finish chopping this wood. Tonight I’ll make a collar for her out of my belt and rig up a way to secure her in the canoe. You said there’s some chain out back? I might need to use some of that. She could chew through rope really quick. Add some chain to the list of what we have to replace. First thing in the morning, when we know she’s in there with the pup, I’ll dig the hole under the cabin deep enough so I can crawl in there with her. You’ll block the hole behind me with your body, and I’ll put the collar on her.”
“But Jack, if we caught her now, we could bring her and the pup inside for the night. That would give us time to handle them a little be
fore loading them into the canoe. I’ll put another pan of stew under there for her and then work on making the hole bigger while you finish up with this firewood. I just wish we had a shovel.”
“There’s a shovel under the bunk. The trapper stashed lots of useful tools under there. I’ll dig the hole out tomorrow morning.”
Cameron brightened. “I’ll do it. It won’t take long to make that hole big enough for you to fit through, and then I’ll fix you some supper, and maybe we can catch Mama Dog before it gets dark.”
* * *
AFTER SHE FINISHED enlarging the entry hole beneath the cabin, Cameron started fixing supper. Late-afternoon sunlight streamed through the window facing the river. From beneath the cabin Cameron heard scuffling movements, the sound of Mama Dog eating the food she’d just put under there, and Lobo making happy puppy sounds. At least once they were caught, they’d have a better future to look forward to, one with regular meals. Mama Dog might not like the whole capture scenario that they’d planned for her, but in the end she’d be better off.
Jack was still outside, chopping wood. He’d made a big stack, far bigger than what they’d used. He was good with an ax. He’d obviously split wood before, and lots of it. She wondered about his boyhood in Montana. About how he’d grown up. About his time in Afghanistan and all the awful things he’d seen and done, all the awful things that had happened to him, and how in spite of it all, he still wanted to go back. She thought about his dog, Ky, and how she couldn’t possibly be alive. About his relationship with his sister. About his sick mother. And then she brooded for a long time about his sister’s statement that twenty-two veterans committed suicide every day.
She thought about all this while she dumped the last of the biscuit mix into a bowl, then added enough water to make a batter. She buttered the Dutch oven she’d used to rescue the canoe. Put a few more blobs of butter in the bottom, and then, after a brief hesitation, she added all of it, the entire stick, the last of their butter because they were both so hungry, so starved for fat. She poured the raspberries on top of the butter, dumped the last of the salvaged sugar onto the berries and spooned the batter on top of it all. It might be an unappetizing blob to city folk, but she and Jack would eat it and think it was manna from heaven. And it would be.
The fire in the pit was burning down to a nice bed of coals, perfect for grilling the char steaks and baking raspberry cobbler. She nestled the Dutch oven into a bed of coals, shoveled more coals atop the lid and prepared another bed of coals for the grill. Jack was stacking the last of the wood he’d cut and split beneath the roof’s eaves, where the trapper had stashed the bulk of his firewood.
“Twenty-two,” she said when he came over to the fire pit. He had his leather belt and jackknife in hand and was preparing to make the collar for Mama Dog.
He gave her a questioning look.
“That’s how many veterans commit suicide every day,” Cameron explained. “Your sister told me that to try to explain why she was so worried about you, why she wanted me to come out here and find you.” She laid the char steaks on the grill and they began to sizzle. Char was a nice fatty fish. Delicious.
Jack divided the last of the wine between their two glasses and set down the bottle, handing her glass to her before claiming his chair. He remained silent, just sat and watched the steaks cook, holding the belt and his knife in motionless hands.
“I just hope when you see her again, you’ll remember she’s family and she loves you, and I hope you don’t hold what happened to your dog against her because that wasn’t her fault.” Cameron remained crouched beside the fire, where she could keep a close eye on the thick, deep red char steaks. Overcooking a piece of fish this beautiful would be a terrible thing. She gazed into the glowing bed of coals. “Family is important. When my dad was killed in that plane crash, my world came crashing down around me. I was wrecked by his death. I never realized how big a part of my life he was. Roy said my dad was lucky because he died doing something he loved, but I didn’t see it that way.”
She looked at him across the campfire. “I lost someone I really cared about when that plane’s engine quit, and there was nothing lucky about it. What happened to my father happened to me. That’s what it feels like when you lose someone you really love. A part of you dies right along with them. At least, that’s how it was with me.”
She turned her attention back to the steaks. Fat hissed, and wisps of fragrant smoke curled upward. She shifted the Dutch oven, settling it deeper into the bed of coals. Thought about what she was trying to say. Somehow she needed to make Jack understand. She met his gaze again over the smoke of the cook fire and shored up her resolve.
“The thing is, I can’t leave here, Jack. I love this land, and I love flying. I don’t want to leave this life behind, and I don’t want to be your pen pal, either. So I guess what I’m trying to say is, I really care about you, and this has been one hell of a journey, but when we reach the Mackenzie River, I think a clean break would be the best thing for both of us.”
Jack regarded her silently for a long moment before nodding. “If that’s how you want it to be.”
“I do.” Cameron rose to her feet. “I’ll get the plates. The steaks are almost done.”
* * *
THE STEAKS WERE cooked to perfection. The raspberry cobbler had come out great. Smelled wonderful. Tasted amazing. Cameron had to force every bite down. Jack remained quiet. He ate everything she put in front of him, cleaned his plate, told her how excellent it was and thanked her, but that was all. There was no small talk. Nothing but awkward silence. After supper, while she was cleaning up, he concentrated on finishing the dog collar, using the awl on his knife to make holes to adjust it to the right size once they got it on Mama Dog. He used two drop lines off the picket line to make a tether they could use to tie her in the canoe. Then he cleverly split a small section of the remainder of his belt to make a tiny collar for the pup. All of this he did in brooding silence. Or maybe he wasn’t brooding. Maybe he just didn’t feel like talking, which annoyed her because she wanted him to say something. Something more than just, “If that’s how you want it to be.”
But he wasn’t going to. He’d already moved on from the subject of a clean break when they reached the Mackenzie. He certainly wasn’t going to declare that he couldn’t live without her, that he was going to quit the army just so he could stay in the north land. He’d probably be relieved to see the last of her. He’d go back to Afghanistan and tell his army buddies stories about his endless trek down a wild river with “Calamity Jane,” and they’d all laugh. Meanwhile, she’d be back here in Northwest Territories, lonely and alone, flying wealthy, overweight sports into hunting camps so they could drink a lot and shoot something they could brag about. She’d fend off unwanted advances and wonder why she’d told Jack that she loved what she did when the truth was, she only loved parts of it, and those parts weren’t enough anymore. This life used to be all she ever wanted. Now, thanks to him, she was truly miserable.
After the camp was cleaned and tidied and the dishes put away on the shelf, she walked back out to the canoe where Jack was rigging the tether to the middle thwart.
“We should try to catch Mama Dog before dark,” she said. “I made the hole big enough for you to fit under the cabin.”
He glanced up at her. “It’s nearly dark now. I’m going to finish this job, and then I’m turning in. If I’m going to get torn to shreds by a wild dog, I’d rather get a good night’s sleep first. We’ll make an early start in the morning. We’ll catch the dog and pup first thing, and if all goes well we could be on the river before noon.”
“But if we caught her now, she could spend the night inside with us, getting used to us. I think we should try. What if that bear comes back?”
Jack shook his head. “That bear won’t come back as long as we’re here.” He paused to look at her. “Tomorrow’s going to b
e a long, hard day. Get some sleep. I’ll be up when I’m done here.”
His voice was clipped and curt, a stern dismissal. Cameron wheeled around and returned to the cabin. She thought she was too worked up to fall asleep, and wanted to stay awake to continue this conversation, but after she’d climbed into the top bunk and lay down, her body betrayed her.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
TWO HOURS LATER Cameron awoke with a start and lay still, wondering what had disturbed her. She listened intently but heard nothing other than the muted sound of the river flowing past.
“You awake?” Jack’s voice came out of the darkness. It was as if he’d touched her across the distance, stroked her with his hand. His voice filled the empty ache inside her and made her feel like crying.
“Yes.”
“Did you hear that?”
“No.” She listened again and heard nothing. The silence stretched out. All she could hear was the rush of the river and the beating of her heart. Her badly damaged heart. She was in such misery she was about to climb uninvited into Jack’s bunk when Mama Dog growled beneath the cabin floor. It was a long, threatening growl that raised the hair on Cameron’s nape. Shortly afterward, she heard something moving out behind the camp. Something big. Mama Dog growled again, louder. Her heart rate accelerated, and she swung her legs over the edge of the bunk, wondering where she’d put her headlamp.
“Something’s out there,” Jack said. “Could be that bear, looking for more of our food.”
“You said it wouldn’t come back.” Cameron slid from the top bunk, felt her way to the table and fumbled for her headlamp. She found it, then remembered that she hadn’t changed the dead batteries. “Where’s your headlamp? The batteries are dead in mine.”
“Should be right there on the table.” She could hear him moving, getting up.
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