Echoes of past relationships, past accusations of overprotectiveness, tiptoed into Cody’s brain. Leave her alone, they warned. She doesn’t want you meddling. But maybe she needed a break from her life. Time in nature to re-group. The most mind-blowing sex she’d ever had in her life, compliments of his truly.
“Hey, are you free this weekend?” he asked. “Moose hunting season opens on the twenty-third, and I thought we might do an overnight at my cabin.”
“You hunt moose from Bradford Homestead?”
“No, I have another cabin—this one really off-grid, on White Spruce Lake—and I thought we’d go out there.”
“I’m assuming no bathroom?”
He laughed. “You are correct. No electricity, no plumbing.”
She took a deep breath as she contemplated it, and Cody could see her interest wavering. He decided not to tell her there wasn’t even an outhouse this time around. “It has a bed,” he added. “A very nice bed.”
That wasn’t technically true. The bed wasn’t very nice, but they’d do nice things in it.
“Luxury hotels have nice beds,” Cassie said, trying to tempt him. “Why don’t we check into the Pioneer Hotel for the weekend instead? My treat.”
“There wouldn’t be any moose at the Pioneer Hotel.”
“That’s true.” Her emerald eyes gleamed. “But I’d be there, and I’d get naked for you.”
“I’d rather get you naked in nature instead of within the four walls of a stuffy hotel where we’d have to be quiet so the couple in the next room doesn’t report us to management.”
“That’s a valid point.” She smiled enticingly. “Are you saying you’re going to make me scream?”
“Yes, and a hotel’s not a very good place for it. Besides, I did want to take you moose hunting, too. It’s an essential lesson in the Alaska curriculum.”
She pretended to consider, and Cody laughed, knowing she was going to relent.
“But there is an outhouse at least, right?”
He chuckled.
“Oh, please, Cody—no! Where am I supposed to—?”
“Don’t even worry about it,” he said. “It’s a non-issue. Just think of all the fun we’ll be having.”
She stuck out her bottom lip in an adorable pout. “After this, our next outing is going to be the Pioneer Hotel. It’s time for you to have a Cassie lesson, and I’d like to teach you about some of the finer things in life.”
“You’re my finer thing.”
“Aw.”
Seeing that Dylan was ready to go, Cody finished making his plans with Cassie and said goodbye. Back at the truck, Dylan climbed into the driver’s seat in Sean’s place, while Cody rode in the captain’s shotgun seat.
“We cleared?” Cody asked.
“If you are,” Dylan said.
“What do you mean?”
Dylan smiled as he started the engine. “You and Cassie Holt? How did I not know about that?”
“Because you, unlike most of those ball-busters back at the station, actually mind your own business.”
It was true. Dylan Hart was very much a live-and-let-live kind of guy. Outside of the fire service, he flew a bush plane and co-owned a flightseeing company called Northern Flights, taking tourists by plane to glaciers and other remote places in the summer. Dylan went his own way and did his own thing, while still being absolutely committed to the job, and he had an almost brotherly connection to Tom Steele. There was a story there, but Cody, too, was a live-and-let-live guy, and figured if Dylan ever wanted to tell him about it, he would.
Knowing that whatever he admitted would end with Dylan, Cody said, “The thing is, she’s got no intentions of sticking around for long, and I’m not about to try and change her mind. I can’t see that ending well.”
“You leaving Alaska for a woman wouldn’t end well, either,” Dylan said. “Trust me. Been there, done that, nearly died.”
Cody furrowed his brow and studied Dylan, hoping he’d go on, but that didn’t happen.
“Got any advice for me?” he asked.
“I do,” Dylan said, glancing over. “Be careful. Women can break your heart, and the damn suckers take a hell of a long time to heal.”
17
The day of the moose hunt dawned crisp and clear, and the forecast was for mostly sunny skies with a high in the low seventies before getting down to near freezing at night. Cody knew better than to count on Alaska’s temperamental weather, but he had a good feeling as he smelled the air and saw the deep blue sky while his dogs were on their morning jaunt around Bradford Homestead. Come on, he thought in a silent prayer to the land. Make her love you.
The previous day, Cody had gone out to the hunting cabin to give it a pre-Cassie overhaul. He took away the narrow camping cot he’d used in the past and replaced it with a new queen-size framed airbed cot. He made the bed with flannel sheets, new pillows, and a soft corduroy comforter. He swept out dust and cobwebs, made sure the kitchen was stocked with staples, and cleaned the window glass for the first time ever. Feeling like a sap, he even picked wildflowers, put them in a mason jar with water, and set them on the windowsill.
He’d also packed the hunting gear in his truck the previous night: knives, dressing kit, rifle, ammunition, clean clothes, and two coolers—one large and empty, one small containing food for the trip. While the dogs romped, he took a quick camp shower, refilled their food and water supply, and then called them over to play catch for awhile. He would have liked to bring them along, but their scent would scare off any moose.
He’d suggested to Cassie that they go to breakfast on the way, and so after he picked her up, they went to the North Star Café on the town square for a hearty breakfast of omelets, hash browns, and the café’s famous cinnamon buns before starting the drive to the lake. As they left the Nanook Valley and climbed into the early foothills of the Alaska Range, Cody held Cassie’s hand and thought life was just about perfect right then. As long as he didn’t think about her leaving, it was all good.
“Close your eyes,” he told her when he was about to turn off the main road. “The lake we’re going to is so pristine and beautiful, it’s going to take your breath away. I’m going to take you right to the shore, and when you open your eyes, you might seriously think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”
Gamely, Cassie covered her eyes. As he drove down a one-lane paved road, she bounced along, laughing each time they hit a pothole.
A minute later, they arrived at the White Spruce Lake parking area where he docked his small motor boat. The floating dock held just Cody’s boat and a few others. He’d already told Cassie the only way to get to the cabin was by boat, and she’d seemed a bit nervous about that, asking after their safety if something were to happen. As an experienced outdoorsman, he assured Cassie that as long as they used common sense, they’d be fine, and if something major happened, he had his ham radio to call for help.
Cody parked his truck in the makeshift parking lot, which had no restrooms, picnic tables, garbage cans, or even streetlights. It was just a crumbling bit of asphalt next to the beach. His was the only vehicle.
“Okay, stay put,” he said. “I’ll come around to help you down.”
Once she was out of the truck, Cody put one hand on her shoulder and with his other covered her hands, which were already covering her eyes. He led her onto the floating dock. With the boats tied to the sides of the dock, she’d have an unobstructed view of the lake. He took a moment to let the view fill his soul.
Then he removed his and Cassie’s hands from her eyes and watched with a grin while she took in the view. Her jaw literally dropped.
“Oh, wow,” Cassie said, staring, her eyes bright. “Is this even real?”
The brilliant blue sky was dotted with puffy clouds, and a chilly breeze came down off the snow-capped mountains all around them. The lake was a crystalline gem of blue with a surface like glass, long and narrow, its end disappearing around a rocky point. Cody’s cabin was past the bend, out o
f sight of all civilization. Tall pine trees bordered the lake and created a soft green felt across the mountain foothills.
“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?”
“Words can’t even describe how amazing this is.” She breathed in deeply as she took in her surroundings more fully, and she looked to Cody as if she were trying to memorize it, to imprint the view into her brain. “I’ll never forget this day.”
She was clearly living in the moment, but a tinge of the future seeped into Cody’s heart and made him sad. Would Cassie remember this day when she was back on the East Coast, four thousand miles away, taking in the sea of taxis and trains that would be the scenery of her life? Was she trying so hard to imprint it because she knew she’d be leaving soon?
“You keep watching,” he said. “I’ll load the boat.”
He grabbed both coolers and his backpack from the truck. His dinghy was chained to its mooring, secured with a padlock, and covered with an aged soft plastic cover. He pulled off the cover, stowed it, and started loading the gear. In a second trip to the truck, he grabbed the rest of the items they’d need, including the rifle case, ammo bag, and dressing kit. After he’d prepped the boat to leave, he took a minute to enjoy the view—of the lake and of Cassie. She was looking more Alaska by the day, with her technical outdoor clothing and the minimal makeup she wore. The breeze glided through her shoulder-length hair, and as she outstretched both arms as if to hug the day, Cody felt a sudden, urgent need to hug her, and so he hopped out of the boat, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her. She tasted of sweet cinnamon.
“Ready to leave civilization behind?” he asked her, and watched as her expression faltered.
“We could just stay here all day,” she said, putting her hands in his jacket pockets. “Sex on the beach, what do you think?”
“I think we’re going moose hunting,” he said. “There’s a little beach over there, too, and we can have sex to your heart’s content.”
She gave him a bright smile. “That works, too.”
He helped her into the small watercraft and she sat on the middle seat, facing backward. He stepped in behind her and took a position near the boat’s motor at the rear. The well-maintained engine started on one pull, and as the propellers bit the water and the boat moved forward, small lake waves lapped against the aluminum sides.
“You should turn around!” he called to her over the noise of the motor. “Take in the view!”
“I like this view better!” she called back, meaning him.
They grinned at each other, enamored, and Cody thought it might be the best day ever.
Just don’t think about tomorrow, he cautioned himself. Don’t think about her leaving.
A poem she’d studied in high school came to Cassie’s mind as she drank in Cody’s handsome face and the shatteringly beautiful backdrop behind him.
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may.
Old Time is still a-flying.
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.
Thankful now that her teacher had made her memorize it, Cassie knew with a certainty she seldom felt that she needed to cherish the moment and the day and the night with the man in front of her. Her heart burst every time she was with Cody. He lifted her. Made her see things she otherwise wouldn’t see and experience things she otherwise wouldn’t experience.
Like moose hunting. What self-respecting Manhattan woman would deign to go moose hunting?
She would, because of Cody. I’m a woman who hunts, she thought. A huntress. It made her feel tough and strong and capable and … new. She was becoming a new person around him, and whereas she’d been warned by people her whole life never to change herself for a man, she found that she quite liked Alaska Cassie. She could chop wood, catch a fish, start a campfire, and soon she’d be able to shoot a gun and hunt a moose. How cool was that?
Very cool, and it was all thanks to Cody and his willingness to teach her things, and his patience when she fumbled. And the sex with him the other night had been so good, so powerful, so right, that she felt like a new woman that way, too.
As a tiny, primitive structure came into view that Cody pointed out as his hunting cabin, Cassie felt deliciously tense all over because she knew what was coming when he docked the boat. Sex was coming, lots and lots of sex. Wild sex. Outdoor sex. The kind of sex that made a woman scream. The anticipation of the thrilling pleasure of Cody’s hands on her naked body made her eager to reach shore.
“Cassie, look!”
Cody pointed at the shore. There, in the darkness of the forest, Cassie saw a large moving shadow. Looking closely, she saw a huge rack of antlers—a moose.
She had no intention of actually shooting one; she just wanted to learn how to shoot a gun and be in on the hunt. To lie in the forest with Cody, bodies touching, as he did what men had been doing for centuries. He didn’t hunt for sport but rather for meat, and she’d decided there was an honesty in hunting that was absent from the way she’d always acquired food—cleaned of blood and guts and the violence that lurked behind the nicely packaged meat. He’d opened her eyes to so much, and she loved that about him. She watched his rugged face, which transformed when he smiled, revealing an almost boyish happiness and an innocence as pure and clean as this very lake. Cassie’s heart squeezed in a way she couldn’t identify.
As they drew closer, she got a better look at the log structure awaiting them. The whole thing was no larger than a family-size tent, although thankfully it had a sloped metal roof. The cabin was set up on support posts, with three steps leading to the door.
Cody brought the boat to a narrow rock beach, cut the engine, stepped past Cassie, and jumped onto the shore. He dragged the boat up with him while she was still inside and tied it to a tree stump.
“Give me your hand,” he said, and helped her climb out of the boat. She felt the strength in his grip, the strength that extended up his muscled arms, throughout his whole body.
She helped him unload. He told her where things went, and she found that being out of her element provided an unexpected blessing. Always independent, she was able to relax with him in charge and happily follow his instructions. In Cody we trust, she thought.
“Ready to see the inside?” he asked.
She wasn’t sure if she was. It wouldn’t be quaint or cute or trendy like the dwellings she saw on those tiny-home shows she watched from the stair machine at the gym. Besides, why go inside when they could stay out there in nature, glorious nature? Bald eagles swooped along the shores of the lake. Fish jumped and deer grazed. She’d been expecting emptiness along with the remoteness, but this place was teeming with life. It was like a Disney movie—Snow White maybe, where she frolicked in the woods with all her little forest friends. And the vastness of the mountains around them was like a third presence, as real and solid as she and Cody were.
But when Cody took her hand, she went with him up a short, rough path to the cabin. The inside was every bit as rough as the outside. A single piece of plywood was tacked to the wall to serve as a kitchen counter. A large plastic camp jug of water rested on the countertop, along with a propane cook stove. There was a stone hearth and a tiny fireplace. A plastic-upholstered folding card table took up another corner along with two camp chairs. The queen-size air bed took up most of the floor space. Cassie spotted a price tag dangling beneath it and smiled when she realized that Cody had bought it just for them.
“So what do you think?” he said.
She didn’t like it. Cassie thought it was ridiculously small and built only with strict form and no design considerations. It was clean, but she imagined spiders and other critters were beneath it, plotting ways to get in. The thought of spending even a single night there was unsettling, except it would be a night spent with Cody, and therefore unsettling in an exciting way, too.
But she wanted to be a good sport. She knew it meant a lot to him that she grew to appreciate Alaska and the spartan life he led there, even if only a
little bit. And she did. It was a marvel, all the things he knew how to do; she couldn’t help but appreciate his glorious competence, his rugged self-reliance.
“You built this place by hand, didn’t you? Like the guy in the documentary we watched?”
Half-watched, she corrected herself. Before they were too far into the film, Cody’s fingers had slipped under the flannel shirt he’d loaned her, and the film had been quickly abandoned.
“Sort of,” he said. “I had the luxury of bringing supplies from town with my boat, though, and I had a few buddies to help me. That guy was all on his own.” He turned to her. “Want a beer?”
“Definitely.”
Cassie followed him as he went back outside, opened the cooler, and brought out two bottles of the Balto’s Lager she’d liked from the Sled Dog. He opened them, handed one to her, and they clinked bottles and drank.
“Ahhhh,” she said. “I think beer was invented to be enjoyed on nice, sunny Alaska summer days.”
“I think you’re right,” Cody agreed.
They brought the two camp chairs from the cabin, set them by the shore, and sat quietly as they drank their beer. Cassie loved the vastness of the wilderness around them. The permanence of it. The awesomeness of it. This vista—the trees, the mountains, the lake, the animals—had been there thousands of years, a world with its own rhythms and rules and seasons. As far as she was concerned, they could drink beer and enjoy the view all day.
“Is there a better time of day to hunt moose?” she asked, standing. “And would you like another beer?”
“I would love another beer, thank you, and while any time of day is fine, first and last light are best. That’s when they’re on the move, out in the open.”
“Huh,” Cassie said. “So we have a little time?”
“Why, yes, we do.”
“That’s good to know.”
As she walked to the cooler to get a second beer for each of them, she got a better idea and walked past the cooler into the cabin. She gathered up the comforter from the bed, brought it outside, and spread it across the soft grass near their chairs. Cody watched her silently, smiling, and she was pretty sure he was thinking along the same lines she was. Just in case he wasn’t, though, she stood on the blanket and unbuttoned her shirt’s top button, and then the second button.
True North (Golden Falls Fire Book 1) Page 14