Sasquatch, Love, and Other Imaginary Things

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Sasquatch, Love, and Other Imaginary Things Page 17

by Betsy Aldredge


  —Brenda Berger, from remarks made at the Lady Bigfoot Hunters annual luncheon

  I insisted on navigating. Devan finally agreed to let me take control, when he couldn’t figure out which direction was north, even with a compass. We trotted along in companionable silence, enjoying the first sunny weather we’d had in days. The location we had been given wasn’t far, but we had to climb over a big ridge and maneuver down a steep slope to reach the valley where we wanted to camp.

  When we got to the lake, we were pretty sweaty. We found a grassy patch by the water’s edge and dropped our packs. My shirt was plastered to my back where the pack had been and a few damp curls had adhered to my forehead. Very attractive.

  “Fancy a swim?” Devan asked.

  “I didn’t pack a suit. Unless your plan was to skinny-dip?” I asked, trying to keep my voice from shaking.

  He gave me a mock offended look. “I had no such plan. I was just going to wear these shorts. They’ll dry pretty quickly.”

  I debated swimming for a moment. The vivid blue water was clear and glistening in the sunlight. I was hot and sticky, and it did look refreshing. But I generally didn’t like to swim in water that wasn’t chlorinated. I may have been able to face down a wolf, but marine life was a different story. I never recovered from watching Jaws as a kid.

  “I don’t know,” I tilted my head, weighing the options. “It looks pretty cold. And I’m not sure we have time.”

  “We’ve got three days. I think we can afford a short break. I’m going in. Swimming relaxes me. I’ll be of better use once my head is clear.”

  “That’s how I feel about reading. Why don’t you go ahead and I’ll sit here and read?”

  “Suit yourself,” he said, unclipping his microphone and taking off his T-shirt to reveal a slim but toned figure perfectly built for swimming.

  I tried not to think about other things that it might be good for, as I purposefully studied my book and read the same sentence at least six times. Devan did a pretty intense butterfly stroke for about five minutes. I turned a page, not comprehending a single sentence. I snuck a peek at his graceful yet strong form. Was there anything he couldn’t do? Other than Bigfoot hunting, camping, or maintaining a polite conversation with me for more than a few minutes?

  Never mind. Maybe he should stick to swimming. I laughed out loud at the thought, and it must have been louder than I realized, because he lifted his head out of the water, to see what was so amusing.

  “What?” he asked.

  I pointed at my book. “Funny stuff.”

  He twisted his mouth. “There are swords and blood on the cover. Are you sure it’s not something I did?”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Paranoid much?”

  Huh. I guess I got under his skin, too.

  “I’ll show you paranoid!” Devan said, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he splashed me with freezing cold water.

  “Hey, stop!” I ran out of the splash zone and dragged the backpacks with me. “All the equipment is here. What’s wrong with you?”

  Apparently, he knew that the gear was waterproof and I was bluffing because he continued splashing, trying to make the water go even further. At one point he got me good, and as I pushed my drenched, soon to be frizzy, curls out of my face, I decided that I had no choice but to retaliate.

  “Oh, my god!” I stood still, pretending to stare at something behind him. He stopped splashing and turned to see what I was looking at.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Nothing, probably,” I said, trying very hard not to smile or laugh. “I thought I spotted a Pacific Northwest Poisonous Water Snake, but it was probably just a shadow or something.”

  Devan stood up in the water and looked behind him. “Wait, seriously? Poisonous water snakes?”

  “Yeah, they’re rare, but very deadly. Don’t panic, but, there it is!” I pointed to his left.

  I don’t think I ever saw him move so quickly as he scrambled up the bank of the lake. I was in mid-laugh at his horrified expression when my mirth was cut short by an awful noise as he tripped and crashed to the ground. He collapsed in an undignified heap, clutching his arm and swearing like a sailor.

  “Damn it, Devan! I was teasing! Are you okay?”

  “I think I broke my arm,” he spat out in between mumbled curses.

  “Let me see.” If he had actually broken his arm, he’d probably be in a lot more pain, but I needed to feel the bone, to know for sure. I reached out for his arm.

  “Ow!” He held onto his wrist like I was about to saw it off.

  “Hold still, you big baby,” I said in my most no-nonsense voice.

  I lowered him so he was sitting with his back against a tree. Lake water dripped off him making him shiver. I yanked a towel from the gear and draped it over his shoulders. I ran my fingers up his arm, trying to focus on his wellbeing and not his beautiful, muscular body. His eyes found mine as I traced his forearm muscle with my fingers. He sighed and I let go right away and blushed, wiping my hands on my pants.

  I picked up his elbow in a less gentle manner, careful not to look directly at his face this time. “Does it hurt when I do this?” I twisted his elbow a little from side to side and around in a circle.

  Wincing, he gasped, “It hurts, yes.”

  “The good news is that I don’t think it’s broken. You’d be screaming more if it was, and we’d maybe see a bone poking out.”

  I pulled the little first aid kit out of my backpack and cracked open an instant ice pack and placed it on his arm, which was already starting to swell and get a little purple.

  “Do you have anything in there for the pain?” he asked.

  I passed Devan a few pain killers. I found his canteen and helped him take the pills. “You should rest here for a little while and then I’ll wrap it with an elastic bandage. You’ll have to be careful not to move it too much, but you should be okay until we can get you back to camp. The doctor can x-ray it to be sure there’re no fractures. Do you want to call Beth now and head back?”

  I chewed my lip, realizing this probably meant the end of the challenge for us.

  “No. No. I can go on, I think.” He was breathing heavily, trying to fight the pain.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.” He nodded and tried to summon a smile. “As you said, it’s not broken. And I certainly don’t want to be the reason we lose.”

  I nodded, relieved.

  “Devan, I’m sorry,” I said.

  His eyebrows knitted together, confused. “For what?”

  “There aren’t any poisonous water snakes out here. I just made that up to get back at you for splashing me. I didn’t think this would happen.” I waved a hand at the ice pack.

  “It’s all right. I’m the one who tripped,” he said. The perspiration formed beads on his forehead. He was really suffering and it was my goddamned fault.

  He patted me on the knee with his good hand. “Sam, really, it was an accident. Don’t worry. And you’re very convincing. But, next time you try to take the piss out of me, make sure there aren’t any snakes involved. I’m only afraid of a few things, and one of them is snakes.”

  “Okay. No more snake jokes. Although, it was pretty funny.” I giggled.

  He gave me a weak smile.

  I peeked under the ice pack. “I think it needs to chill for a few more minutes before we wrap it up,” I said.

  “Okay, you’re the doctor.” Devan studied my face. “I’m not going to lie, I’m impressed,” he said quietly. “How do you know how to do this?”

  “I volunteer in a hospital. I hope to be pre-med in college, if I can scrape up the cash.” I couldn’t decide if I was flattered or annoyed, maybe both. Granted, I was used to being underestimated and it was an advantage in the contest. But, I wished Devan could have seen my hidden talents without having to practically break his neck first.

  He nodded, speechless for once, then closed his eyes and lay down on the towel, grimacing.

&nb
sp; “So that’s why you’re doing this?”

  “Doing what?”

  “This show—for the prize money so you can go to college?”

  “Yup. Well, that and I just love making a spectacle of myself on reality TV. I mean, who doesn’t?” I tried to fend off his serious question. “And how did you get stuck doing this contest?” I asked.

  “Oh, I didn’t have much of a choice. Dr. DeGraw said that the top three anthropology students had to do this. I couldn’t turn her down because I need her recommendation. She knows people at all the top college programs. One word from her and I’m golden.”

  We sat in silence for a bit. Just like in our earlier hike, there was no awkwardness in not talking. It was easy to get lost in my own thoughts, and not worry about trying to fill the quiet with inane conversation.

  The only problem was that my thoughts tended to be focused on the fact that he still wasn’t wearing a shirt, and with each breath his chest muscles gently flexed under his smooth skin. His eyes were still closed, and he had put his good hand behind his head, like he was relaxing on some beach, and not nursing an injury, in the middle of the wilderness, with a girl he couldn’t stand. I averted my eyes, only to find them drifting back to his serene face.

  His hair was still wet, and one lock stuck to his forehead. I had an almost irresistible urge to smooth it, but before I could give in to the temptation, he spoke.

  “I think you’ll make a great doctor.”

  He opened his eyes and put his hand on my knee.

  Once again, my limb burned where he touched me. “Thanks.” The fire spread to my cheeks in an obvious blush. I stared at him until it was just too humiliating, then I jumped up. I threw his shirt at him, hoping my skin was returning to its normal color. I hunted in my pack for the bandage and then found a sturdy stick.

  I gestured for Devan to sit up so I could ease his shirt back on one arm at a time, before I placed the stick under his injured forearm. He sucked in his breath, so I quickly got to work wrapping the bandage around it to create a splint that would limit his range of motion.

  “Well, I hope you win,” Devan whispered in my ear.

  “Really?” I asked, so surprised I wrapped his arm a little too tightly.

  “Ouch!” he said then looked a little embarrassed.

  I made a makeshift sling out of a spare T-shirt and a bandana and slipped it over Devan’s neck, hyper aware of the fact that I was practically embracing him.

  “I mean, you know, if I can’t win,” he added.

  “Of course,” I whispered back. We were still so close, I could feel the heat radiating off his cheek.

  “Why are we whispering?” I asked.

  “Sorry,” he responded even more quietly. “It’s just, I have an illustrious school and family reputation to uphold, and I can’t say that I don’t want to win with that bloody camera watching.”

  “Wait. What camera?” I stood and slowly turned around and wouldn’t you know it, there was Hal, grinning, while I still had my arms wrapped around Devan’s neck.

  Oh, hell no.

  Chapter 22

  “The mating season of the Bigfoot is short and intense. Males of the species must prove themselves worthy of the female and she, in turn, chooses the strongest and most persistent suitor.”

  —“Love and Loss in a Bigfoot Pack”

  Hal must have been practicing walking quietly, because I sure as hell didn’t hear him approach.

  “This is going to be great!” he said.

  “No it’s not!” I snapped.

  I ran my hands over my frizzy curls.

  Devan laughed, which turned into howling. “What did you give me? I can’t stop laughing.”

  I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, and pretended this wasn’t happening. “It’s Advil, Devan. Pull yourself together,” I said.

  “You should have seen your face, though!” he said between guffaws.

  I turned my back on him. First things first.

  “Hal,” I lowered my voice and spoke deliberately, restraining myself from yelling. “How long have you been standing there?”

  The cameraman gave me a huge smile. “Let’s see, Devan was talking about skinny-dipping, and you were gazing at him longingly, then you two had a flirty splash war, he tripped, and you played nurse. So romantic.” Hal sighed like he was watching a soap opera. “Then you had a heart-to-heart talk about your hopes and dreams.”

  My mouth dropped open as I struggled to catch a breath, so astonished I couldn’t even talk at first. “Oh, my god! It wasn’t like that.”

  Hal smirked at me. “It will be once it’s edited. This love/hate romance is TV gold.” His eyes went all dreamy again.

  I looked to Devan for support, but he was still caught in a fit of laughter.

  What the hell was wrong with everyone?

  I stomped over to Hal and snapped my fingers in his face. Hal blinked and frowned at me.

  “There is no romance going on here,” I said. “If you want romance, go read a novel.” My voice rose in desperation, which seemed to make Devan laugh even harder. I turned around and narrowed my eyes. “Do you want me to twist your other arm?”

  That shut him up, mostly. Although his face contorted as he swallowed his laughter.

  Hal shrugged, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry, I just love romance. Call me a softy, but this is the part I really like, when I can capture something real.”

  I threw my hands up. “Enough! We need to get to work.” I offered Devan an outstretched arm and helped him up. “Are you okay to go on?”

  He picked up his backpack and put it on his good arm, sucking in breath through his teeth. “I don’t know how much I can carry, but otherwise, I’ll manage.”

  I surveyed the area, and thought maybe I could save his pride, despite the fact that we were probably a good quarter of a mile from where we had planned to camp.

  “What if we set up camp here?” I asked. “You can sit for a while and I’ll go see if I can find any clues before it gets dark. Then hopefully tomorrow morning, you’ll be a little less sore and able to help. What do you think?”

  “Okay. That sounds good.” Devan agreed and lowered himself onto a tree stump.

  I trudged through the thick underbrush that was just inside the tree line, in search of some branches for a fire. Hal followed with his camera. God, I thought I had no privacy growing up with two sisters. This was definitely worse. I liked Hal, but being filmed all the time was pretty invasive.

  Hal’s insistence that there was some sort of blossoming romance between Devan and me was extra annoying. But I realized he wasn’t the first to suggest such a thing. Lyssa had hinted that there was something going on, too. Strange. Yes, Devan was really cute. Hadn’t I been ogling his bare chest and staring at his handsome face for the last half hour? But on the other hand, we hated each other, and this was just a momentary truce. And yet, I couldn’t help the stomach drops or the dizziness every time he gazed at me. It was like being on a perpetual roller coaster when he was around.

  It was way too confusing and I had to focus on winning the challenge and getting my family out of debt. But first I needed to get the campsite set up.

  It took a few minutes, but eventually I found enough dry branches to make a fire. I dropped the wood and gathered some stones to make a fire ring.

  Devan offered me a wide smile. “You’re useful to have around. If there’s ever a zombie apocalypse I know who to call.”

  “How do you know I won’t be the one to start the zombie apocalypse? I could very well be carrying a deadly zombie virus right now,” I joked.

  “I haven’t seen infectious undead monsters that look as good as you,” he said, giving me another one of those gazes that made me forget how to breathe.

  Behind us, Hal sighed like a teen girl watching the prom episode of her favorite show.

  “Cut it out!” I said without turning my head. “Now I know why celebrities beat up the paparazzi,” I grumbled in Hal’s direction.
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  Devan added, quickly, “I just meant that zombies are usually more decayed, you know, rotting flesh, entrails, not cute. Opposite of cute, really . . .” He was rambling, trying to backpedal out of the compliment he accidentally just gave me.

  I raised an eyebrow at Devan. “Remember what Dr. DeGraw said. You need to stay focused, too.”

  The amusement disappeared from Devan’s face in a hurry. “I can help you unpack at least,” he said, standing. We hadn’t brought much with us in the way of gear so it didn’t take long, even with Devan’s right arm out of commission. Hal filmed us pitching the little pup tents and then he set up his own tent.

  It was late afternoon, so I left Devan with another ice pack for his arm, the walkie and a whistle to use if he needed help, and a paperback if he got bored.

  Hal followed me through the woods as I began to systematically survey our quadrant for fake clues. I managed to find a chunk of unusual hair stuck conspicuously in some tree bark. It looked like synthetic doll hair to me—no follicles, texture, or split ends. It was too perfect.

  By then it was getting dark enough that I was eager to get back to the warmth and safety of a campfire. To my pleasant surprise, Devan had already lit the fire and was cooking some soup for us all.

  “Nice work, Mountain Man.” I plopped down next to him. “I found a fake clue. Only one, but hey, it’s something.” I held up the hair, waving my hand around it like a product model on an infomercial.

  Handing me the soup, he grinned. “Brilliant!”

  I warmed my icy hands by the fire. “Remember a few hours ago when we were sweating our asses off? Now I’m freezing!”

  Without standing, he reached his good arm over to the packs, pulled out a fleece sweatshirt, and handed it to me. I shrugged it on, inhaling the woodsy British cologne I now associated with him. Mmm. Warm all over, I crossed my arms over my stomach and let out a happy sigh. “Thanks,” I said to Devan who shivered next to me. I frowned at the goose flesh forming on his arms. “Won’t you be cold?”

  “Nah, I’m good for now,” he said, always the stoic. A few minutes later, he reached into his bag again and pulled out a long-sleeved thermal shirt.

 

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