right trail.”
He grinned wryly at that. They both knew there were no trails except those made by wild animals in this land. “You’re wondering why I made camp when there’s a good ten hours of daylight left.”
Cameron removed her hat, which was dripping water onto the floor of the tent. “None of my business how far and fast you travel,” she said. “You can camp wherever and whenever you like.”
“I’ve been on the road three days and drove all night to make the floatplane base first thing this morning after hearing the weather forecast. Figured I had a narrow window of opportunity to get flown in.”
“You figured right,” she said.
“My plan is to rest up today and get a fresh start in the morning.”
“Good plan.”
They sat and listened to the rain pounding down on the flimsy tent. Cameron hoped the tent pegs held under the strain. “Well,” she said after a long awkward moment, “I’ll get back to the plane, and as soon as there’s a break in the weather, I’ll head home.”
“Good plan,” he said.
“I probably could’ve made it okay, but my father always told me that optimism has no place in the cockpit.”
“Sound advice.”
Once again he’d succeeded in making her feel foolish. Last night at Ziggy’s, three men had hit on her while she was playing pool. She could have gone home with any one of them, if that was her game. It wasn’t, but she liked knowing that she could have her pick. She enjoyed the attention of men when she wanted it, and was used to flirting, having her drinks paid for, then spurning her admirers, holding them at arm’s length and sometimes breaking their hearts. This guy annoyed her. No ring on his finger, not married and not the least bit interested in her. Wanted her to leave so he could go back to sleep.
Cameron pulled on her hat. She loved her Snowy River hat and thought it made her look especially sexy. To most guys, anyway.
“Well, okay then, I’ll head back to the plane,” she repeated. He made no response.
She crawled back out of the tent and into the torrential downpour, pushed to her feet, gave a small wave to the Lone Ranger and headed back toward the plane. “What a weirdo,” she muttered to herself as she trudged away, not sure if she was talking about Jack Parker or herself.
AFTER SPENDING A miserable cramped night sitting in the plane, sating her hunger with four granola bars and her thirst with water from her kit, Cameron was relieved when morning brought a higher cloud cover, lighter rain and the welcome opportunity to head home. She pumped water out of the plane’s pontoons—they both had slow leaks—then pushed the plane into deeper water and hopped back on board. She wondered if the Lone Ranger had already broken camp as the Beaver’s pontoons rocked free of the lake and the plane roared into the air. Would he hear her taking off? Was he still asleep or was he already on the trail? What did she care? Why was she even thinking about him?
All she cared about right now was getting some coffee. Not Walt’s coffee. His wasn’t fit to drink. When she got back, she was heading to the diner. She was going to order a huge plate of ham and eggs and toast and greasy home fries, and a bottomless cup of very strong hot black coffee. Her stomach growled in anticipation. A stiff headwind slowed her progress, but even so she was taxiing up to the dock by 7:20 a.m. Walt came out to tie off the plane.
“You owe me,” she said as she climbed out. “Big time.”
Walt was wearing one of his expressions. “Listen,” he said slowly as they walked down the dock toward the office. “Got a phone call yesterday after you left. It was from that guy’s sister. Lori Tedlow was her name. I couldn’t follow her conversation too good, she started crying, so I told her you’d call her back just as soon as you returned.”
Cameron halted abruptly and rounded on her boss. “What? I have nothing to tell her. She already knows where he is, right? You told her where I dropped him off, right? What more could I add to what she already knows?” She felt another surge of annoyance at this latest development.
“She was upset. Crying. You’re a woman. Women are better at handling stuff like that. She’s waiting for your call.”
“Walt, I’m starving. I haven’t had any coffee, I’m crippled from spending the night in the plane and I want my bonus money.”
“Yeah, I heard you lost a bundle at Ziggy’s, playing pool the other night.”
“Hank cheats. So does Slouch.” Cameron entered the office, tossed her ball cap on the desk, pulled the band from her ponytail and finger combed her dark shoulder-length hair. “One of these days they’ll pay, soon as I figure out how they’re doing it. I’m missing way too many easy shots I could make blindfolded when I was twelve.”
“I won’t be able to get your money till the bank opens. Coffee?” Walt asked, lifting the pot from the hot plate.
“No way. The coffee you make should be banned. I’m going to the diner for a real cup of joe and a big breakfast, and then I’m going to take a long hot shower in my rusty old trailer, and then I’m going to come back here and collect my bonus, so you better have it ready. Bank opens at nine. I’ll be back at nine thirty sharp.”
“If I have your bonus ready, will you make the phone call?” Walt asked hopefully.
“Nope. You talk to the Lone Ranger’s sister. I’m just the pilot who flies the plane. You’re the boss. You get the big bucks for handling all the drama. Tell her he was fine when I left him yesterday. I can’t vouch for how he is today. Wet, probably.” Cameron pulled her hat on and started for the door.
“I know how Hank and Slouch are fouling your shots,” Walt said as she reached for the doorknob. She paused and looked over her shoulder. “If you make that phone call for me, I’ll let you in on their dirty little secret.”
She hesitated just long enough to make Walt squirm before nodding. “Deal.”
* * *
TWO HOURS LATER she was back at the floatplane base, clean, well fed and dialing the number Walt had provided her. A woman’s voice answered on the third ring, and Cameron studied the words she’d carefully drafted on a paper napkin while she ate her breakfast at the diner.
“Mrs. Tedlow?” she said, speaking slowly. “This is Cameron Johnson. I’m a pilot for Walt’s Flying Service, and Walt asked me to call you when I got to the office this morning.” She read the words aloud over the phone to the Lone Ranger’s sister in Montana. Writing her opening had been clever. She had a tendency to get tongue-tied on the phone, so she’d made extensive notes in preparation for this call.
“Thank you so much for getting back to me, Cameron,” the woman replied. “I really appreciate it. I’m afraid I wasn’t very coherent when I called yesterday. I apologize for that. I was just so relieved to have finally located my brother. And please, call me Lori.”
“Walt understands completely how upset you were yesterday.” Cameron shot a glance at Walt, who gave her an encouraging nod and two thumbs up. “He’s a very understanding man.” She scanned her notes and continued reading. “I just wanted to let you know that I saw your brother yesterday afternoon, and he was just fine. He’d set up camp and was going to get a good night’s rest and start his hike today. It’s not raining nearly so hard now, so it won’t be bad going at all.”
“It’s raining up there?”
“First real rain we’ve had all summer, and it was coming down cats and dogs yesterday.”
“Oh no!”
“It’s not a bad thing. We needed the rain. We’ve been fighting a big forest fire up here, and thanks to this downpour it’s just