by Lisa Plumley
But Mack was sitting cheerfully on the ground in front of Kelly, rubbing her big toes. He hummed. Kelly chanted something about “…Tim. And, I guess, Mrs. Tim?” The two of them looked cozy as a manicurist and a favorite nail art junkie. Unbelievable. So much for the Doritos talk.
Feeling almost desperate now, Riley spotted Lance and strode toward the teenager. He was only fifteen. Surely he hadn’t fallen victim to whatever…thing…had happened here. But when Riley reached him, he found the boy’s dreamy-eyed gaze locked on—Alexis! Terrific. So much for the big screen TV talk.
The whole world had gone wacko.
“What the hell is this?” Riley said. “I leave you people alone for a few minutes—”
“Forty-five minutes,” Jayne said, consulting her watch.
“—and—” He faltered, momentarily discombobulated by the realization that she might actually have missed him. Then, “For a few minutes, and what happens? An ankles-down orgy!”
Alexis perked up interestedly.
He took three long steps toward her and slapped his palms over her ears. “You ought to be ashamed of yourselves.”
As a group, they were unabashed. Several people shrugged.
“It’s not, like, just ankles-down,” Carla informed him. “It’s hands, too. Hand reflexology.”
Riley glared at Jayne. You perpetuated this, his frown said.
To his aggravation, she seemed to be holding back a grin. “It’s just my Reverse Romeo Reflexology technique. You see, areas in the hands and feet correspond with areas in the body. Heels to intestines, mid-soles to solar plexus, big toes to brains—”
“You’d need big toes for brains to believe this works!”
Jayne drew herself up. “This is an ancient and respected discipline. It helps bring the body into balance by unblocking vital energy passageways. I added a new spin by including a chant designed to help release thoughts of the person who broke your heart. If you’re too closed-minded to give it a chance…well, that’s your loss, Riley.”
He scoffed.
Alexis yanked his hands from her ears. “Wait ‘til I tell Gramps you let me go on an orgy!”
Doris, Donna, and Mitzi snickered. Given a scowl from Riley, they slapped on straight faces.
“Gramps doesn’t need to know about any of this,” he told his niece. It might break Bud’s heart to know the family’s old-fashioned, tradition-driven travel adventure trips were being used for…this. His grandfather still thought ordinary therapy sessions were for “pantywaists and crybabies.” Riley didn’t know what he’d make of group reflexology.
A giggle came from just behind him. Riley turned. A squirming, smiling Mitzi and leering Bruce froze beneath his gaze.
“He was tickling my foot,” she complained, pointing.
“You liked it, baby,” Bruce said, laughing.
More giggles. Oh, boy.
The whole scenario reminded Riley of something else.
“And you,” he said, rounding on Bruce, and Mack too. “What do you think you’re doing, rubbing on your travelers’ feet like demented cabana boys? You’re professional guides!”
They scrambled upright with satisfying speed. “Sorry, boss,” the said in unison.
“We didn’t have anything else to do,” Mack added.
Bruce nodded. Even Lance transferred his lovesick gaze from Alexis long enough to agree. All three of them defended the scene Riley had walked in on.
Stupid as it was, to Riley their actions felt like a betrayal. It was as though they’d gone over to the other side—the feminine side—leaving him all on his own. Alone. He should have been used to it. Hell, he should have like it. But instead, it bothered him.
“You need something to do during these little trailside workshop sessions?” he asked, eyes narrowed.
The three men nodded. From the sidelines, Jayne glared—probably at his use of the word “little” to describe her techniques. He wished he hadn’t, but it was too late now. He’d do better next time.
“I’ll give you something to do,” Riley told them. “From now on, when Jayne’s conducting workshops from her bestselling book—” Ha! said the raised eyebrow he offered her.
She smiled, happier.
“—we’ll be…we’ll be…” He searched for a big finale. “Conducting workshops of our own!”
What? Had that actually come out of his mouth?
Immediately, everyone started talking. Riley stood amid the murmurs, hands defiantly on his hips. He faced them all down. Sure, he’d come up with the idea under pressure. But now that it was out there…hey, it wasn’t half bad.
“Counter-workshops,” he explained further, speaking to be heard above the gradually-quieting chatter. “Male workshops. Designed with the, uh, male perspective in mind.”
He drew a breath and smiled, feeling better already. Sure. This could work. Why not?
This time, it was Jayne’s turn to scoff. “You’re an amateur. You don’t even know what you’re doing.”
“I’ll learn as I go.”
They all stared at him—the women dubiously, the men warily.
“It’ll be fun. Like bungee jumping. Or white water rafting.”
Mack, Bruce, and Lance relaxed. The women’s mouths gaped even wider.
Riley rubbed his hands together, feeling almost cheerful about this new way to pass the time while Jayne worked her magic. A few goofy, macho workshops…sure. What could possibly go wrong?
Alexis shook her head. “It’ll never work, Uncle Riley. You’re way too much of a loner to lead workshops.”
Silence fell. He glanced at her, stricken. Okay, so maybe he spent a lot of time alone. That didn’t make him a loner. He just…wasn’t comfortable around a lot of people. That didn’t mean he couldn’t lead workshops, if he wanted to. And yet…
Maybe she’s right, a tiny voice whispered inside him. He’d spent so long on the outside. So long trusting movement instead of stability, believing in distance instead of closeness.
No, Riley told himself. What did Alexis know, anyway? The poor kid’s idea of closeness was a five-minute call to her phone-challenged divorced mother.
Yours used to be plastering your suitcase with travel decals identical to your parents’, that voice prodded. So they’d remember you belonged with them each time you moved.
Riley shook off the memories. “I can do it,” he said. “You’ll see. Now let’s hit the trail.”
He signaled for everyone to put on their shoes or boots and load up their gear. “We’ve got miles to go before tonight’s big camp out.”
Chapter Ten
Riley hadn’t been kidding, Jayne realized right about the time her leg muscles began twitching to an involuntary hip-hop beat. He actually meant for them to hike several actual miles before camping for the night.
They’d stopped around noon for lunch—sandwiches and juice eaten amid even craggier rocks than had set the scene for her first workshop. Then they’d continued onward, their groups in the same lead-middle-rear order—this time, with Alexis joining Jayne and Riley and Kelly.
For most of the day, Jayne had actually felt pretty good about things; increasingly confident in her ability to handle the hike and to be a good role model for her breakup-ees. Now that it had begun, their adventure felt easier than she’d expected. It turned out, to her relief, that she possessed stamina she hadn’t even known about. She could hike for hours!
In gratitude, Jayne blessed the spinning, kickboxing, and power yoga classes she’d taken for years at the gym. She vowed to kiss her treadmill when she returned to civilization. She smugly informed Riley that maybe she wasn’t in such bad shape, after all.
But then the afternoon struck. And with it came her usual energy drag—the one Jayne typically combated with a Caramel Frappuccino and a flip through the latest In Style magazine. Out here in the dust and the cactus and the boulders, a nice relaxing Starbucks break wasn’t so easy to come by.
To make matters worse, it was her turn to naviga
te. Craving caffeine, Jayne stopped in the shadow of a rock overhang and squinted at the scenery around them.
“Need help reading the topo?” Riley asked, stopping beside her.
His presence immediately sparked up something inside her. Something fizzy and feminine and better left ignored. It only got worse when he unfastened his pack straps, pulled off his Polarfleece, and edged nearer wearing only a close-fitting white crewneck with his trail pants. Eyeballing his muscles, that old “Wow, have you been working out?” line came to mind—except Jayne knew Riley’s muscles were the real thing. The result of strenuous activity and wilderness training.
“No, I don’t need help reading the topo.” She frowned. Turned around the topographical map, which may have been upside down. It was hard to tell, with all those squiggles. “I’m doing fine, thanks. How’s Alexis?”
“Better, now that she’s blackmailed me into keeping her on the trip. She threatened to tell Gwen the ‘orgy story’ if I made her go back to the lodge.”
Jayne smiled. She didn’t believe for a second that blackmail was the reason Riley had let his niece stay with them. She’d seen the look on his face when Alexis had asked to stay—and the affection in his eyes when he’d watched her open her new leopard-print compact. No matter how hard he sometimes seemed, Riley was a real softie at heart.
Of course, he’d sooner chew Timberlands than admit it, she was sure.
“How’s Kelly?” she asked, giving the map a quarter turn.
“Taking a nature break. I told her this might be a good time, since you might be a while reading that map.”
Jayne made a face. She still hadn’t reconciled herself to the idea of a “ladies’ room” that contained dirt, rocks, and scrub brush instead of vanities, mirrors, and liquid pink soap.
“Well, I won’t be that long,” she told him, peering at her compass. She looked up. “The trail we want is that way.”
She pointed. He looked. She watched his face carefully, but couldn’t tell from his expression whether she was within ten miles of the right trail.
She bit her lip. Pointed in another direction. “I mean, that way.”
Riley looked again, his expression inscrutable. “Sure?”
Heck, no. Help me! But she’d never accepted help from the other men in her life—her father and three bossy brothers, in particular. Not if she could, well, help it. She wasn’t about to start now. She could do it. She’d navigated all the breakup-ees to downtown Sedona shopping, hadn’t she?
“Of course,” she said. “That’s the path.”
“Okay, then.” He strapped on his pack again, then made a show of double-checking the fit of hers. His hands whisked over her shoulders, her arms, her waist; they curled around her chest straps and checked for snugness. “Let’s go wait for Kelly.”
He moved away, taking with him the warmth of his touch. Jayne felt as though she’d been flirtatiously frisked…and then denied the promise of a rousing strip search to follow. She didn’t want to want Riley to continue.
But she did, all the same.
Ahead Riley paused beside Alexis, at the junction of the trail Jayne—as navigator—had chosen. In this part of the wilderness area, various hiking paths crisscrossed each other randomly. They intersected, ran parallel to each other, went their own way, and veered into the distance, only to meet up again later. The scenery was no help in getting oriented, either. To Jayne’s Pacific coast eye, everything looked alien and prickly and desert-y.
Kelly caught up, sheepishly wrapping a gardening trowel in plastic and stuffing it into her pack. Jayne shuddered. Suddenly, she longed for a posh powder room with a comfortable antiseptic commode and a jumbo roll of squeezable Charmin. But no mirror. She didn’t want to contemplate what she looked like until she was in a position to repair the damage.
However, she told herself, when the going got tough, the tough…put on some lip gloss and soldiered on. Jayne applied some cranberry crush, flipped her hair over her shoulders, and rejoined the group. They trouped onward, buddied up in pairs, occasionally switching conversational partners. It was almost fun at times. Like a moving slumber party, minus the popcorn and the Clooney-vision…and plus the male perspective.
Reminded of Riley’s vow to conduct male perspective workshops concurrent with hers along the trail, Jayne shook her head. She couldn’t imagine what kinds of things he, Bruce, Lance, and Mack would come up with. Better Bonding Through Beer, maybe. Or “I’ll Call You” 101. After all, she hadn’t subtitled her book Getting Over The GoodBye Guys for nothing.
Eventually, she glimpsed a group of four hikers traveling toward them in the opposite direction. Using her new knowledge of trail etiquette (and feeling oddly proud of it), Jayne moved to the side to let them pass. So did Riley, Kelly, and Alexis.
“Hey, fancy meeting you here!” At the head of the group, Mack approached, trailed by Lance, Doris, and Donna. As usual, he looked positively merry—if a little confused. “How come you’re going the wrong way?”
Oh, no. “Wrong way?”
“Yeah. We’ve been trailing you for the past hour or so. I figured we’d catch up, but not this soon.” He turned to his group, and high-fived them. “We rock!”
“We’re…sightseeing,” Riley told his fellow guide. “You’d better take the middle position. We’ll be right behind you.”
Mack nodded.
“Hi, Alexis,” Lance said shyly.
Alexis stuck her hands in her pockets, elbows turned out crookedly. She nodded. “Hey.”
“Your, um, braces look nice and purple today.”
Alexis’s brow furrowed. “Like, huh?”
Jayne saw an amused look pass between Riley and Mack.
“Come on, sport,” Mack said, as though that shared look had been a signal of some kind. He slung his arm around Lance’s skinny shoulders. “No sense using up all your best lines right away.”
They hiked away, Lance casting backward looks at Alexis. Alexis rolled her eyes and stared at the ground, blushing.
Watching them leave, Jayne drooped. “How long have you known?” she demanded, turning to Riley.
“That you were going the wrong way?” He shrugged. “From the minute you mistook that gully for a butte on the topo and veered onto the parallel trail. I knew you’d figure it out eventually.”
She goggled. “You let me lead us in circles on purpose?”
“You weren’t doing it on purpose.”
“I meant you! You purposely let me screw up.”
He put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You did fine. Really. This is the only way to learn.”
Alexis and Kelly nodded sympathetically. “We didn’t mind,” Kelly said.
“Yeah.” Alexis nodded. “Once I navigated me and Uncle Riley into a cow pasture up near Munds Park. Trust me, he was way madder to step in cow doo than he is right now.”
They gave her compassionate smiles. Compassionate, she-doesn’t-know-any-better smiles. Jayne felt like crying. In fact, she was crying. On the inside. Her throat tightened and her eyes watered. She had to blink like a wanna-be mascara tester to keep from letting the tears fall.
She had to explain. Riley’s “we were sightseeing” attempt to cover for her was sweet, but Jayne couldn’t allow him to let her off the hook.
“Thanks. It’s just that—” She swallowed hard, her hand fisted on the useless (to her) topographical map. “—there aren’t any landmarks out here. Everything looks the same without a Gap on this corner and a McDonald’s on that corner and a bunch of street signs in between. You know?”
They all nodded.
“I’m sorry, everybody,” Jayne said. This time, a few tears did fall. She brushed them away with the back of her hand, then glanced up. “I thought I could do it. I didn’t mean to put us behind.”
“It’s not a race,” Riley told her.
“I don’t care where I am, so long as I don’t miss your next workshop,” Alexis added. “They can’t start without you.”
“
I enjoyed the scenery,” Kelly insisted loyally. “Twice.”
“Oh, you guys!” Gratefully, Jayne sniffed. She waved her arms, urging everyone forward for a thank-you hug—even Riley, with his stiff, what’s-a-group-hug shoulders. “I’m so glad we’re all together! You’re the best!”
They blubbered companionably for a few minutes, being mutually empathetic and sharing “when I got lost” stories. All except Riley, of course. He ducked out of the group hug as soon as the initial contact ended.
When Jayne looked up, he stood near a patch of cactus, his shoulders rigid. His lonesome profile turned outward. He looked hard as stone, competent and strong and…alone. Alone in a way that tugged Jayne’s heart, and made her want to go to him.
She held herself steady, knowing she was only kidding herself to think Riley needed her.
Once upon a time he hadn’t been alone. He’d been with her, and he’d been happy—or at least Jayne had believed he was. What, she wondered now, was the real story?
Riley slung his pack to the ground, grateful to release its weight from his back for a while. He’d never have allowed any of the women to carry as much as he did—not because he believed women were any less competent, but just because he was trained for this and they weren’t. Also because his mother (ardent environmental activist that she was) had taken the time to ensure her son understood cultural concerns as well—chivalry toward women chief among them.
Riley still opened doors for ladies. He still held out their chairs, and he wasn’t opposed to letting a woman have the last word, either. He still watched out for the women in his care. Even, sometimes, when they didn’t want him to…like Jayne.
He’d known damn well she wouldn’t let him help her read the topos today. He’d known it the same way he’d known she’d catch her breath when he touched her. The same way he’d known she’d kiss him back when he kissed her. He knew her. Jayne was stubborn. Independent-minded. Proud.
In those ways, Riley figured she was a lot like him. She needed to live her mistakes before they turned real for her. He didn’t mind a couple of extra miles of trail walking. It was all part of being a guide. He only wished she hadn’t felt so upset about it, in the end.