He laughs and growls at her, waiting for her set the tray down before grabbing her in a big bear hug and shaking her silly as her giggles bubble out like champagne. It’s cute . . . adorable, really. I mean, both of these people are well into their sixties. They might even be in their seventies. But it’s totally obvious they’re both still crazy in love for one another.
There’s a twinge in my heart, a quiet hope that I’ll have a love like that someday. I have a momentary flashback to Rose but dismiss it just as fast considering we barely knew each other. But damn, I wish I’d gotten to know her a little better. Just a chance, an exchange of phone numbers, something . . . but now all I have are memories.
Smirking at my own internal monologue, I tune back in. The tiny woman offers her hand, and while she looks like a strong wind might blow her over, her hand is work-worn and her handshake solid. “Welcome to our place. I’m Susan Sampson, charged with keeping this old coot in line. And let me tell you, that’s a full-time job. Sit down and let me pour you two boys a glass of tea.”
I catch Sam giving me another wink that he got a glass after all as he takes it from Susan with a hearty smack on her cheek. “Thanks, honey. You know I love it when you give me some sugar . . . in my tea.”
She shakes her head, but there’s a slight flush in her cheeks when she slaps him lightly on the shoulder. “Behave.”
She leaves, and Sam turns to me. “So, Nic, what exactly do you think ADRENALIN Sports can do for me and mine? No offense, I know you’re a good man by the way you came out of those woods feeling right at home . . . but military surplus has done right by me for a while now. What can you guys do different?”
“Well, let me break it down tour by tour that you offer. First, your adventure tours. I know ADRENALIN sounds like we’re all extreme sports, and there’s a kernel of truth to that. We got started with extreme outdoor sports. But we cover all forms of outdoor sports. Right now, the big buzz about you guys is your ATV and hiking trips, everything loaded onto backpacks.”
“That’s my son’s gig,” Sam admits. “While I got no problem riding an ATV anywhere, the idea of walking up the side of a mountain anymore just gets my knees aching something terrible. Then again, half the folks who come here end up aching too.”
“Sure, and I know that a lot of those folks show up . . . less than prepared,” I reply. “And you rent out equipment to them, which I think is a smart idea. No worries about fussing around with replacement parts, no problem with substandard equipment. And surplus, it’s usually good stuff, I’m not gonna put it down. But I can guarantee you that ADRENALIN can provide you with equipment that’s been tested from the Rockies to the summit of Everest. You need clothes, packs, boots, whatever, we can get it for you. What about your other programs?”
“Well, I like to take folks to do some fly fishing when the season is right, and occasional hunting trips for recommended guests,” Sam says. “I gotta admit, that’s the trickiest. I don’t just take any old Joe out hunting around here. I’ve gotta know you’re good with a gun, safe and able, because I’m not running a lesson range out there. Most of the folks I do allow, they bring their own kits, although I will provide ammo if they need it.”
I nod, laughing lightly. “Makes sense. Personally, I can’t imagine that teaching someone to shoot on sight is going to result in a satisfied customer with a big game trophy. And professionally, there’s reasonable risk and there’s stupid. Good to know that you know the difference.”
He gives me a nod. “Come on, let me show you the garage.”
Sam takes me out back to their garage, which is more like a good-sized country barn filled with ATVs and snowmobiles where there used to be horse stalls. Along the other side, arranged with all the neatness and efficiency of a good storeroom, is the rest. Fishing gear, snowshoes, cross-country skis, packs, tents, and all the needed accessories, all neatly arranged and obviously well-cared for.
“My shooting bench, along with equipment and my lending gun safe, is in the back corner,” Sam says, flipping a switch. Another light switches on, and I see two military-style weapons racks with locks. “They’re not as good as my old Winchester I keep in the house, but I keep them all in good condition. Also in the locker there, I’ve got the archery equipment, not too much since most of my bow hunters treat their bows better than most men treat their women. But I got the accessories if they need it.”
“Very nice,” I reply, making a mental note to add archery to my proposal. Knowing that our primary placement is going to be the larger pieces of equipment, I head directly to the ATVs, which are maintained and seem to be in great working condition, but they’re dated, and well, not ours. “Let’s get a start here, if you don’t mind. Now, it’s very obvious you take pride in caring for your gear, but I think we can do better.”
We spend the next two days going through our catalog item by item, and the contract line by line. I have to give and play some, but I use a sales tactic that I’d picked up long ago. By giving some more in the ‘big’ items, like the price of an ATV, I can gain ground in other areas. A six months’ supply of gunpowder, primers, and rifle cleaning materials runs quite a pretty penny, and ultimately, Sam can pass that along to his customers as a convenience fee for onsite supplies. Win-win for everyone.
In the end, all the office sales time isn’t the same as the real deal, so we decide a test drive is in order. I call the head office after the first night, and that weekend, a trailer pulls up in town, delivering a couple of ATVs for us to take out on one of their usual adventure tour tracks, along with all the accessories we’d pack. Sam and one of his sons even agree to take along a ‘customer pack’ for comparison.
Side by side with their older models, the difference is immediately obvious. The ADRENALIN packs are lighter and easier to carry, and by the first night of our tour, it’s just a matter of getting names on papers and setting it aside for lawyers. That lets us spend the bulk of our time enjoying some time outdoors with no pressure, and Sam offers to sidetrack to show me his favorite fishing spot. He has a passion for living off the land, being outdoors, and I can appreciate that.
Over the next few days, I thoroughly enjoy rising with the sun and exploring the forest all day as we hike, fish for our dinner, and camp under a canopy of stars. I brought along one of our bows, one that works for both fishing and hunting with minimal adjustments, and I’m thrilled when Sam seems impressed with my prowess and the equipment.
On our last night deep in the forest, Sam stares into the small fire we’d started to cook the trout we’d caught. It’s after dinner, the trout eaten, and we’re just enjoying the last of the warmth. “So tell me about your life back home, Nicolas.”
I lean back, enjoying the warmth of the flames as the night chill starts to come on. “Well, not much to tell, I guess. I grew up loving the outdoors, but at the time, I didn’t think it’d pay well. So, I went to school for business, did sales after graduation. But I kept up doing a lot of outdoor adventure stuff as much as I could. Every weekend, every holiday, every vacation I get, I’m going somewhere and seeing new things, experiencing a different world, learning something. Hiking, skiing, parasailing, hang-gliding, bungee jumping, skydiving, you name it, I’ve done it. If there’s a rush involved and it’s outside, I’m in. But I also love the rush of seeing the world in an uncommon way and the peace I get in the quiet, far from the city where I mostly work. Started working with the guy who owns ADRENALIN as a sales rep and worked my way up. What about you? How did you and Susan decide to start doing adventure tours?”
Sam pokes around in the fire to distribute the coals before answering. “This has been my family land for generations, but Susan and I used to only come here for weekend getaways. We lived in town when the kids were little, but when they’d all grown and gone, we just felt empty. They send us pictures of them in the mail, and everyone came out for Christmas—made Susan so damn happy. Anyway, we all came out to the cabin for Christmas one year, and after the kids went home, we staye
d to clean up the house, do a few projects, and ended up snowed in for a couple of weeks. By the time we could get out, we didn’t want to leave. Sounds crazy, but locked up in a cabin with that woman for two weeks is my idea of heaven and we just didn’t want to go back. So we didn’t. One of my boys had a friend who wanted to go hiking so he asked if I’d show him around a bit, so I did. I guess he posted some stuff on the Internet and all the sudden, I’m getting letters asking if I’d take them out too.”
“That’s quite a story you have there,” I reply honestly, feeling slightly jealous.
Sam nods. “We get to stay busy, be alone when we want to be, and share this beautiful Earth with folks who recognize they need a little time with Mother Nature.”
“I definitely needed this recharge myself. I haven’t been getting out as much as I’d like with the busy work of business taking me here and there. I travel—hell, all I do is travel, it seems, but it’s all work, no play.”
Sam hums knowingly. “You know what they say about that? Makes Nicolas a dull boy. Hell, before this, I was like you. Worked a job just like you . . . then I realized something. All a man really needs is a woman he loves and some time in the sunshine. That’s all we could ask for.”
He smiles, lifting his face up to the night sky speckled with bright stars as if they’re the sunshine he’s talking about. “Think I’ll turn in. Gonna see my Susan in the morning, and she’s gonna have missed me something fierce these last few days, if you catch my drift. I’m gonna need my Zs to keep up with her.”
Laughing, I lie back, staring at the stars too, catching a flash of light streak across the sky.
I have a moment of childhood innocence and make a wish on the shooting star. “A good woman and sunshine . . . sounds like a great life if you can make that happen.”
With a smile, I head over to my sleeping bag, curl up, and nod off.
Chapter 9
Rose
Juggling my bag, my coffee, and my keys, I try to get the door to the Mountain Rose open. It’s a lot harder than it was three months ago when my tummy was flat-ish, I wasn’t having weird food cravings, and I didn’t spend half of my mornings chucking into the toilet.
That’s okay, I’m halfway through my pregnancy, and despite the difficulties, every day is a new adventure and I’m looking forward more and more to what’s to come. Still . . . “Goddamn lock,” I mutter, hissing.
Finally, it clicks, and I push the door open, setting everything on the counter and hustling back to flip the lights on and the sign to Open. Hustling is getting to be a little bit relative since I’ve already started to get a little waddle to my gait even though I’m barely showing. What with winter still in full effect, when I wear loose, warm clothes, almost nobody notices unless I tell them.
Brad says my little baby bump looks like maybe I just had a big lunch, just a little food baby. But at five months along, this is definitely not just some burritos, although I could go for some breakfast burritos right about now. Mmm . . . warm eggs with some spicy sausage, cheese, and maybe some rice in there . . . yeah, baby, that’s what I want.
I’ve been fortunate that while I’ve had some morning sickness, I’ve been able to eat just fine. Actually, I think Brad’s a little jealous. Every time I stop by the salon, he’s drinking something that looks like it was mixed up for the Toxic Crusader while I’m rocking something covered in cheese.
I grab my morning coffee from the K-Cup machine, a birthday gift from Ana last year that I’ve come to love. I inhale deeply, breathing in its steamy goodness as I boot up the computer and check emails. “Enjoy it while it lasts,” I remind myself. “These eight ounces of liquid sanity are a precious commodity.”
Everything electronic looks good today, just some spam, a few bills that I click Pay on immediately before I forget, and then my weekly pregnancy newsletter. These are my favorites, reading about how big my little Jelly Bean is, what’s developing, and what I’m likely to be experiencing.
That one is tough because while some women are already feeling movement, I’m one of the few who haven’t yet. It worries me, even as I tell myself that everything is fine.
The range is 16–25 weeks, and I’m smack in the middle at 20 but just ridiculously impatient for what I think will be a monumental moment in my pregnancy.
I’ve tried a few of the ‘recommendations’ to trigger squirming like drinking orange juice, and last weekend, Brad gently poked my belly to see if that’d get some movement going. But no luck so far. He’s declared me defective, though he was only kidding. I still threatened to not let him be an auntie, so he’s piped down after that. But I’m still trying to feel something, anything.
Sighing, I close down my emails and get the store ready for customers. About five minutes later, the door opens and my new assistant walks in. “Devon, so great to see you this morning.”
Knowing that I was going to need some help as the pregnancy progressed and for some maternity leave, I hired help. Today’s her first day, and I’m excited that the Mountain Rose and I have reached the level where I can hire some help, and Devon seems like a really sweet girl, ready to learn and happy to help.
“Thanks, Rose! Great to see you too. Where do you want me and what can I do?”
Good start, girl. Very good start. “Let’s unload the new order that arrived yesterday afternoon, get it all hung and set out. I’ll show you the system and how I like to tag things. Then I’ll go over the register with you.”
Without another word, she’s off and running, going into the back of the store and grabbing the box and moving it closer to the rack. We get to work, and within twenty minutes, I’m already in love with this girl. It would’ve been impossible for me to move that box and I would’ve spent too much time and energy walking the clothes back and forth from the box to the rack. But Devon’s got wiry strength and energy for days, and we get the racking going in half the time it would normally take.
We move over to the register, and I quickly go through ringing up a sale, making change, and doing a return or exchange as we see customers all morning. It’s not too busy, but enough that Devon is able to train.
“You’re a fast learner,” I tell her during a small lull in foot traffic. “You’re going to do fine.”
Devon smiles and gives me a thumbs up. “Thanks, Rose. It’s not too different from the other registers I’ve worked so it’s an easy pickup. And this is a lot more glamorous than doing shifts down at the supermarket.”
“Glamorous?” I laugh. “Oh, hell, Brad’s gonna love you! He’s a friend from down the street, part-owner of the salon. He stops in from time to time. You don’t mind being called bitch, I hope? It’s said in love, I promise.”
Suddenly, my tummy lets out a loud rumble and we both freeze for a second before bursting into laughter. “Well, apparently, that’s my alarm clock for lunch. Did you bring something?”
Devon shakes her head. “No, I figured I could grab something from the diner if we weren’t too busy, or later if we were. I mean, I could afford to skip a meal or two.”
I don’t know if it’s the soon-to-be mother in me or just hearing that sort of bullshit too often, but I grab her hand. “No. Get rid of that thinking right now. You’re gorgeous, Devon . . . and the diner sounds great. So here’s the deal. Your boss is buying and you’re it picking up. Have any idea what you want?”
She’s already nodding, grabbing a notepad off the desk to write down the order, when I change my mind. “Actually, this would be a great test. I’ll go grab our lunch—the walk will do me good—and you stay here. There shouldn’t be too many customers coming in right now, but if they do, you know how to ring them up. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be right back.”
I rip the top sheet off the notepad and head out with a wave. Outside, I check what she wrote down. A garden salad? Hell no, this girl’s getting at least a turkey sandwich to go with it. Stepping into the sunshine, I tilt my chin up and close my eyes, appreciating the bracing chill that rolls throu
gh my body after being in the heat all morning. My cardigan is just right for the chilled air considering my Jelly Bean has my body temperature rolling a little warmer than usual with the bonus insulation and hormones.
As I walk, I’m mentally debating if it’s a cheeseburger day or a club sandwich day, finally negotiating myself into a compromise of a burger with extra lettuce and tomato. That’s basically a salad, right?
Vaguely, behind me, I hear someone calling out my name. Thinking for a moment that maybe Devon had a question after all, I look back and see the last person I expected to ever see again. Nicolas, my baby daddy, is jogging toward me, a wide smile on his face as he waves.
I turn and he screeches to a halt, his eyes tracking from my face to my obviously rounded belly, then locking onto my eyes.
I see the confusion, the questions written all over his face.
Chapter 10
Nicolas
It’s been a tremendous couple of months. I signed Sam and Susan to a generous contract with ADRENALIN and even inked a few more. I should be ecstatic, but there’s something missing, maybe exactly what Sam and I were talking about.
I was surprised and maybe a little vindicated when Wesley told me the Mountain Spirit Resort had called back. Apparently, they want me to come back out to rehash possible options.
I sort of feel like this is my chance to right some wrongs. Wes hasn’t said anything, but I know that my nearly three-month-long funk before getting the sale with Sam was tough on the company. We can’t keep depending on an online presence. There are too many rip-off companies flooding the online marketplaces that result in blowback on us all.
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