We found a place to park, and I jumped out of the Jeep. This was exactly what I’d needed. Fresh air, a secluded hike, and yes, Loren.
“You up for this?” I asked.
“Yes. I may not be a camper, but I’m a runner.”
We made our way up the incline of a few hills, and at one point the climb was mostly vertical. Loren stopped to breathe a few times, and we both gulped some water, but she mostly kept up with me. At the top of one of the peaks, we both sat down on a semi-flat rock, gulping in the air and staring silently out at the view.
Loren pointed to the north. “What’s that?”
“Black Lake.” I gestured the other direction. “And that’s Campbell Creek Valley.”
She scooted closer to me. She pulled out her phone and snapped several photos of the view. Then she put her hand over mine. “Thank you. I’ll never be able to express how much it means to me that you brought me along on this trip.”
I turned my hand over and held her hand. “I’m glad you came.” And I meant that. Now that she was with me, I couldn’t imagine not having her along on this trip.
The smoke was so thick I couldn’t see at all. Even the night vision goggles couldn’t help. I crept alongside the warehouse, one hand on the tin wall. Ahead of me, bullets clanged into the tin.
Desperate for better visibility, I dropped to my knees.
I jerked awake.
I wasn’t in Venezuela. I was in a tent in Alaska, with Loren, who was thankfully still asleep next to me.
Fuck this. Why the hell was my brain sending me back to a mission that happened three years ago? Beside me, Loren shifted, bringing her arms in closer to her chest and cuddling into the warm sleeping bag.
With my shirt, I wiped the sweat from my forehead.
I had to get out of this tent. The blast of fresh morning air helped a little. On autopilot, I made a fire and gathered supplies to make breakfast. We’d picked an off-the-grid camping spot last night, and Loren had happily set up the tent and then we’d fallen asleep right away, too tired to even make out. And I’d slept great until the fucking nightmare showed up.
As soon as the light of dawn broke on the horizon, I unzipped the tent and poked Loren in the ribs. “Come on. Get moving.”
I’d have prefered to have her sleep naked, but that just wasn’t smart out here in the wilderness.
She rolled over onto her stomach. “I think I slept on a rock.”
“Good.” I tugged on the pillow part of the sleeping bag. “Makes you tougher.”
She tried to hide her face, but I flicked some water at her from my bottle until she squealed. “Ugh. You’re evil.”
“You’re the one that said you wanted to fish. The fishing on the Kenai Peninsula is some of the best in the world.”
“Did you bring poles? Are they stuffed down in your bag?”
“We’re going to rent them. And charter a boat.”
She perked up at that, sitting up to look at me. She was adorably rumpled. With her gorgeous red hair sticking out in every direction. She rubbed her hands all over her face.
“We’re renting a boat? Will we have a guide?”
“Yes. Me.”
“Is there anything you can’t do?”
“Sing.” I tugged on a lock of her hair. “I thought you were a morning person?”
She squinted her eyes to glare at me, but the glare didn’t last. It faded into her usual sunny smile...“It depends.”
“You can’t even stay grouchy for long.”
She buried her face back into her pillow. “It’s my lifelong curse.”
It wasn’t much of a curse, in my opinion. “Come on. I’ve got a fire going, and I cooked some powdered eggs. I also have some jerky.”
Wearing an oversized hoodie and pajama pants, she crawled out of the tent and sat on one of the logs I’d dragged over. I handed her a cup of instant coffee. “Tonight we can brew the real stuff,” I said.
She made a face at the taste. “I can survive with this.”
She drank it all in one big gulp, and I handed her the plate of eggs. “They’re pretty salty, but that’s the only way to make them palatable.”
I waited for her to complain about the taste. I knew she was privy to private chefs in her day to day life, and even my most rugged fellow soldiers had whined about the taste of powdered eggs.
But she never said a word, other than thank you.
She stood up and dusted her hands off. “So show me how to sterilize this water. I need to brush my teeth.”
As I explained how the sterilizing tablets worked, I found myself completely fixated on her. I’d never have expected someone who’d grown up with such a pampered life to be so interested in roughing it. The other women who’d come to my grandfather’s cabin for a night or two after I’d met them in a club in Anchorage, had complained bitterly about the lack of adequate electrical outlets in the bathroom, the low water pressure and the taste of the well water.
Which had irritated me a whole fucking lot, because I loved Alaska. There was no place like it. And those women hadn’t appreciated what they had. But watching Loren’s fascination with nature -- real nature -- not the sanitized version she’d been offered before, made me feel like I was seeing the wild Alaskan landscape for the first time again.
With her around, I felt better than I had in a long while. I felt more alive, like I wasn’t going through the motions. I guess I’d been stupid enough to think that just because I’d gotten laid that I would be cured of the nightmares.
Although I wasn’t sure what I’d been thinking when I’d agreed to pretend to be her boyfriend. Pretend to be her security? Sure. I could play that role. I’d even done it before. At least a dozen times, I’d helped escort a dignitary across a hostile border. I knew risk assessment. I understood how to secure a room.
Of course all of that had been in the middle of war zones, or places with extreme political strife. At a sleepy town in Alaska in the middle of a wealthy person’s wedding? My skills wouldn't be of much use. But I could still look the part.
The role of boyfriend would be much more challenging. It was one I’d never played before. I’d had plenty of hookups. But I’d never been introduced to anyone’s family. There were scads of married Army Rangers, but the ones I knew well had met their significant others before they were recruited.
The nature of our frequent deployments made dating seriously seem like more trouble than it was worth. And most of the women I met seemed more than happy to enjoy me and my body for a week or two and then say goodbye, which suited me just fine.
After all the hassle of renting the equipment and the boat, and proving that I had a fishing license and yes, I did know what I was doing, we finally made it onto the open water.
Once Loren and I were on the lake, she went to the front of the boat and just sat, staring out into the ocean “This is the best,” she said.
“I assumed you’d been out on a lot of boats a lot nicer than this one.” We were in an average-sized V-hull fishing boat with a motor. It wouldn’t even fit more than four people.
She leaned over and dipped her hand into the cold water. “I have. My dad has a yacht, and he’s done the usual schmoozing with celebrities and politicians. And I’ve been on a deep sea fishing expedition in the Gulf Coast, but the guide was hired to basically catch the fish for us. It was just an excuse for a big photo op.”