Whitewater Rendezvous

not leaving any skin exposed for a second. I was going to spray my hands, but I put my repellent in with the bear-proof stuff.” She found the gloves immediately, but the head net was more elusive. She hadn’t unpacked it yet. It was still in its wrapper, and she didn’t immediately notice it had gotten lost between the pages of her book at the bottom of the bag.

Megan could hear someone moving around outside the tent, but it was opposite the opening so she couldn’t see who it was. “Whoever’s out there, would you mind handing me my red toiletries kit out by the food?”

Chaz appeared at the entrance to Megan and Justine’s tent a minute later. She wore a head net, draped loosely over a navy felt hat to keep the fabric away from her face. The hat looked quite dashing on her, Megan thought, netting notwithstanding. The rest of her body was entirely covered. The hand that held up her toiletries kit wore thin deerskin gloves that had been so long used they had conformed themselves to the shape of her fi ngers.

That melt-your-heart smile that Megan was becoming increasingly fond of made its way across Chaz’s face, and a twinkle came to her hazel eyes, now blessedly free of the shades. “This is yours, too, right?”

She held up the towel and clothes Megan had carried to the lake in her other gloved hand.

Megan nodded. “Yup.”

“Pretty bad out here,” Chaz said. “Let’s coordinate this, to minimize enemy infi ltration. On three—Justine unzips, I do a quick handover to Megan, Justine then zips back up. Ready, me hardies?” she added with the right touch of pirate infl ection, her hands poised outside the zipper.

Despite herself, Megan had to smile. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

“Ready when you are, Gridley,” Justine added, getting into position.

They completed the handover with mercifully few invaders getting in. “Thanks!” Megan hollered after Chaz as she headed back to the cooking area.

“She’s not really very much like Rita when you get to know her, is she?” Justine observed in a low voice.

“No. Not very,” Megan agreed.

“Is it getting any easier to be around her?”

• 87 •

KIM BALDWIN

Megan shrugged. “A little, I guess.” She dug in her bag for a long-sleeved shirt and long pants to change into, as Justine resumed searching for her head net.

“She sure knows a lot about all the birds and fl owers and everything else around here,” Justine said. “Both of them seem to really know their jobs.”

“I wonder if she does this year round,” Megan mused aloud as she changed. “Doesn’t Orion take out snowshoeing and dogsled trips in the winter?”

“Not Chaz,” Justine replied, pretending not to notice that Megan’s question only referred to one of the guides. “She’s a teacher.”

“A teacher? Really?”

“That’s what she told Elise.”

Megan felt a tiny twinge of jealousy that Chaz was sharing details of her life with Elise, but she brushed it aside. “What age does she teach?”

“Haven’t a clue. Aha! There you are!” Justine held up her head net in triumph.

“What else did she tell Elise?”

“I don’t know. You’d have to ask Elise.”

Megan frowned. That idea wasn’t very appealing. “Never mind.

It’s not important.” She pulled on her head net and gloves and scooted to the tent entrance. “Ready to face the bloodthirsty scavengers?”

“Lead on!”

In no time, they were all back to their breakfasts, which Megan was surprised to fi nd didn’t seem to have suffered too badly from their lengthy absence. Or maybe it was only that everything seemed to taste better in the out-of-doors. Like the fresh air had blown away the urban pollution that clogged her lungs and nasal passages and taste buds.

“Okay, so who’s the buzz saw who kept me awake half the night?”

Pat inquired as she took a bite off a slice of bacon.

Linda snickered.

“Oh, man! No lie!” Yancey added. “Some set of lungs!”

“I didn’t hear anything,” Justine said.

Megan groaned so loud that all eyes turned fi rst to her, and then at her tent mate.

“What’s everyone looking at me for?” Justine asked, the picture of innocence.

• 88 •

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