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Whitewater Rendezvous

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back to Fairbanks. “I presume you’ll see Megan pretty soon after you get back?”

“Sure,” Justine said.

“Would you give her this for me?” Chaz held out the envelope containing the letter she’d written the night before. She could have mailed it, or even e-mailed it, but sending it through Justine just seemed more personal, more intimate. She hoped Megan would think so too.

“Of course.” Justine took the letter and gave Chaz an impromptu hug. “Thanks for everything—it was the adventure of a lifetime. And think about what I said. Chicago is a great city to visit.”

Chaz didn’t doubt that, but something told her that if she ever did make it to Chicago, she’d see very little of the place.

• 207 •

 

• 208 •

 

Whitewater Rendezvous


CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Chicago, Illinois

Megan was only in the fourth hour of her fi rst day back at work, and already she missed Chaz, and Alaska, with an intensity that took her completely by surprise.

Her experience had changed her perceptions about nearly everything in her well-ordered routine. She noticed for the fi rst time as she fl ew into O’Hare that the air over Chicago was a dirty yellow-gray, in no way resembling the vivid blue of the Arctic sky. The bumper-to-bumper traffi c from the airport was no different than any other day, but it frustrated and rankled her ten times worse than normal. The noise level in the city was nearly unbearable after ten days of birdsongs.

It was as if she now saw her environment anew through Chaz’s eyes. She was amazed to discover she could count the trees in her neighborhood on one hand, and there was hardly a patch of green to be seen in the crowded urban landscape. Nearly every person she saw on the street looked stressed and in a hurry. She really would hate it here.

Her condo was claustrophobic after the vast landscape of Alaska, and so was her offi ce, with two weeks’ worth of accumulated work piled high on her desk and credenza. She had a list of people who wanted to see her. Her phone rang nonstop—always with something that demanded her urgent attention—and hundreds of e-mails were waiting in her inbox.

I must have been insane to think I could take two weeks off.

Despite the hundreds of distractions, her eyes kept returning to the photo on her desk. Chaz on the hilltop where they’d watched the caribou herd, windblown hair and rosy-cheeked complexion accentuating her rugged good looks. Megan had copied it to her computer and printed it out as soon as she’d gotten home. God, you’re beautiful.

• 209 •

 

KIM BALDWIN

She’d had no contact with Chaz since their separation nine days earlier. She tried to catch her between trips, but the fi rst time she called the lodge, Chaz had been at the airstrip seeing Megan’s friends off. And by the time she called back, Chaz was off on another ten-day trip into the wilderness.

A knock at the door forced her eyes reluctantly away from the photo.

“Bet I know who’s in that picture you’re staring at. How’s the shoulder?” Justine stood leaning against the doorway, a big smile on her face.

Megan got up and gave her a hug, then shut the door so they wouldn’t be disturbed. “Shoulder’s fi ne. Kind of stiff. So how was the rest of the trip?”

“Fabulous.” Justine took a seat. “Sorry you had to leave early, but everybody took lots of pictures so you’ll see what you missed.

Speaking of which, we’re all getting together at the Cool Breeze Friday night to share photos.”

“I’ll be there,” Megan said. The chance to relive the trip and see new photos of Chaz was something she’d look forward to all week.

And she had already decided she’d been working too hard and needed to make sure she made time for her friends.

“Wow, no fi ght at all? Have you fi nally learned to relax, or is it the prospect of seeing a bunch of pictures of Chaz, all gorgeous and buff?

Megan couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face at the mental image that sprang to mind—Chaz sunbathing on the rock.

“Ah, I see,” Justine said.

“It was amazing being with her. I miss her like crazy,” Megan admitted.

“No kidding,” Justine deadpanned. “I think the feeling is mutual, by the way.”

“Did she talk about me? Ask about me?”

“You sound like you’re back in high school. But yes, she did. And I won’t keep you in suspense any more.” She pulled Chaz’s envelope out of the pocket of her blazer. “She asked me to deliver this.”

Megan ran her hand over the envelope reverently, fi ngertips caressing where Chaz had written her name. “Thanks.” She looked up at her friend, anxious to read but mindful of her manners.

• 210 •

 


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