Ride to Restoration (Ride Series Book 2) Read online

  “You’ve made that clear. I got it.”

  “I also know you’ve still got many questions and I’d like to tell you more. I will soon enough.” The intercom buzzed. “Boys,” announced Debra, “Lunch is ready, and D … your tea is cold.”

  “We’ll be right up,” I replied. “Tell Vic to put the tea cup between her boobs till I get there. That’s bound to warm it up PDQ.”

  “I heard that,” shouted Vic, in the background.

  “The walls have ears, huh Greg?”

  “Not likely. Women have ears and they hear everything.”

  Only when they want to; not so much when they don’t. I thought, my attention turning again to Candi.

  Chapter 31

  With lunch behind us, Vic and I changed into the ‘smelly’ camo Greg generously provided for our impromptu adventure.

  “Here, D, carry this,” announced Greg, handing me a Remington 7MM short mag bolt-action rifle, along with an extra clip. “It’s my gun. You’re sighted in and good to go.”

  A gun, really? Come on, we are going hunting. “D, I thought you said we were shooting with a camera. What’s with the gun?”

  Greg looked at me shaking his head. I took the lead in answering her. “Protection, Vic. Up where we’re going there’s a bunch of horny old trappers who haven’t seen a woman with teeth as beautiful as you in twenty something years. I’ve got to have something to fight them off with ... or not. Greg, on second thought, I’m sure Vic can take care of herself.”

  Asshole! “Whatever, bring the gun.” I’m not that stupid, even if I do look like it dressed in this God awful smelly set of coveralls.

  Greg brought the Green Mule to life, its white smoke reminiscent of our last adventure. Traveling north on Second Avenue, the paved road quickly turned to hardpan gravel, interspersed with rug boards, created by the endless farm equipment that traversed the sections. After five miles we entered the Crown Provincial Forest, the equivalent of our National Forests, where the road turned into a trail, then later into a path with 18” deep ruts. Bouncing, bobbing, weaving, leaning, we held onto the handholds as the Mule rocked and rolled us along at 5 mph another 30 minutes to our drop off.

  “You remember this place, Jon David?” asked Greg. “This is where you took down that old 600 pound boar with the clawed up face.”

  “I remember. Because of you, we turned the trike over three times trying to haul Brutus out. Didn’t get back till four in the morning.” The expression on Vic’s face — another Kodak moment. “Don’t look at me like that, girlfriend. There are no absolutes when you go deep into the wilderness. You get in when you get in, you get out when you get out. That is if you’re lucky.”

  What has he roped me into today? “All this jostling around getting here, I have to...”

  “Pee? Go ahead, you’re among friends,” I chuckled, while handing her a Ziploc from my pack. “Come on, I’ll go with you. This I’ve got to see. You wanna watch, Greg?”

  Boys! “Absolutely not, it’s bad enough to pee in a bag, let alone in front of you. Not Greg, nope, not happening.”

  “That’s OK, I’ll pass this time around,” snickered Greg. “I’ll get the machines off and warmed up while you take care of her business.”

  “Thank you, sir. Come on Vic, let’s go find you a tree.” Walking off the trail and out of sight, I found a downed Trembling Aspen about two feet off the ground ideally suited for a woman. “Will this work for you, barrister? Looks like the proper height and circumference for you to hang your sweet cheeks over.”

  I can’t believe I’m doing this. ... What was I thinking when I agreed to go on this so-called adventure? Wait just a minute; I never agreed to anything. I went with it. “It will work. Give me a minute. I’ve got to unhook, unzip, and untie.” Boys just unzip and let it fly, lucky them. Balancing myself over a downed tree, while trying to hold a Ziploc bag is NOT my idea of making pleasant memories!

  “Hold that thought. Better still hold it. I’ll help you. First, I have to go.”

  “Too late, D.” Relief! Ahh, that’s better. Oh wait, the bags almost full! Stop girl! Remember your Kegels. “D, I ... uh ... need another Ziploc.”

  Turning back to her in full stream, I started drawing golden figure eights on the ground as only a man can. “Just dump it out and fill it up again. I’ll be there in a second.”

  Like I can go anywhere. He’s such an ass sometimes. Wait a minute. Why is he peeing on the ground and I’m peeing in a bag? What did he just say, pour it out and fill it up again? “D? How come you’re not using a Ziploc? What did you mean pour it on the ground and fill it up again? Something stinks.”

  “I never said you had to pee in a bag now. You just assumed—” were all the words I could get out of my mouth before a golden liquid filled Ziploc glanced off my shoulder. “Hey, you almost hit me in the chest with that.”

  “I was aiming for your head. Damn it! I missed.” I finished. “You think you’re so cute. Why did you give me the bag if I wasn’t supposed to use it?”

  “You’re the inquisitive lawyer in our midst. You’re supposed to ask the hard questions,” I replied, laughing loud enough for Greg to hear me at a distance.

  “Jon David, Victoria, all OK?”

  “I’m fine, Greg. D, on the other hand, will not be once I get my hands on him.” I can tell by the looks of things already … this is going to be a long, long afternoon.

  Relieved being the understatement of the day, Vic and I joined Greg as he was securing our gear on one of the 4x4 Polaris Rangers. “D, did you explain to Vic about the beaver crossings?”

  “Not yet! Figured we’d dress ’em as we hit ’em.”

  Has he been drinking? Have I missed something? “D, why are you talking silly?”

  “We’re on an adventure to remember. Right? Are we having fun yet? Don’t worry, we will.” And we were off with Greg leading the way. Moving into the forest and beneath the tree canopy, the fresh smell of peat permeated the air. “What do you smell, Vic?”

  Like I know ... “Stale dampness, like mildewed shoes.”

  “It’s peat, like peat moss you use in the garden. We’re driving across peat bogs at the moment.” The ground would give way beneath our tires, leaving deep ruts, but only for the moment. In less than a minute, the ruts would disappear as the peat sprang back like a sponge. I saw Greg stop ahead, motioning me to ride up beside him.

  “First beaver, Jon David. You wanna go first?”

  “Nope, it’s all you. Vic, you can walk or ride, your call. Both are tough. If you ride, be prepared to hang your body over the side farthest away from the ground.”

  Feeling sheer terror, I asked, “What did you just say?”

  “If I start to turn over, throw all your body weight to the opposite side. Whatever you do, don’t get out unless it flips you out. I’ll use your weight as a counter balance to offset mine and the machine’s. I can see the whites of your eyes. Look, beaver build great dams, but they have holes in the top. Sometimes we hit them, most times we don’t. Here we go. Hang on.” Following Greg, I inched our way across the first one, tilting to the left, then the right, before bottoming out fifty feet from the other side. I got this. “Vic, can you hop up in the bed and put all your weight on the back?”

  “What good will that do?” Seriously, at 138 pounds dripping wet what difference will it make?

  “It will put more weight on the back wheels. I need traction. When I start rocking it back and forth, your weight will help the rear wheels grab and I can jump out of this hole. Trust me!”

  Climbing into the utility bed, I stood silently holding onto the roll bars knowing just enough about physics to be dangerous. This will either work or it won’t. It’s the won’t that concerns me. That and ‘trust me.’ “I’m ready. Just do it already.”

  “Good girl!” Rocking back and forth between forward and reverse, I finally felt the rear wheels catch propelling us backwards. “Now forward,” I shouted, throwing the Ranger into 1st while holding t
he accelerator to the floor. We cleared the first hole easily enough, but the rear wheels landed where our front wheels had been. With the throttle wide open, the Ranger automatically threw all its torque to the rear wheels, standing it straight up in the air while I was doing everything I could to keep from falling out. Easing back on the gas the front end began to fall. Suddenly two hands appeared over the front, then two arms and finally an entire body, Greg’s, his weight bringing the front end quickly to the ground.

  “Now go!” shouted Greg. “Floor it!”

  The front wheels grabbed traction and I lurched forward, not stopping until I made it across the dam with Greg sprawled out across the front and Vic— Where’s Vic? Satisfied I was on solid ground, I turned back to see Vic rising to her feet on top the dam, rubbing her smarting cheeks with both hands. “What happened to you?”

  Asshole! What do you mean what happened to me? “What’s it look like? I fell off!”

  “I’m glad you’re OK. Watch out for the holes!”

  “Watch out for the holes. No shit, Sherlock. If you’d been watching out for the holes we wouldn’t have gotten stuck, and my ass wouldn’t be stinging like it is right now!”

  “I’m sorry, girlfriend. I told you to hold on.”

  “I did, I was, till Superman Greg here climbs on the front like the Hulk causing me to forget what I was supposed to be doing.”

  “Like holding on?”

  “Yep, like holding on. When you punched it I watched my life flash before my eyes. One minute I was standing in the bed, the next minute I was standing in the air before I landed on my rear. We have two more of these to cross? No thanks, I’ll walk.” And I did until I stepped off into a bottomless hole that didn’t stop until my aching butt was on the ground again. “A little help here!” I yelled, watching these two grown men laughing their asses off. “I know, I know, watch out for the holes.”

  “She worth it?” asked Greg.

  “She is. Let’s go get her. Vic, we’re coming. You hurt anything?”

  “Only my pride,” What else could I say? First, D warned me to hang on. Then he told me to watch out for the holes. I’m batting a thousand today for all the wrong reasons.

  After a little maneuvering, Greg and I each took an arm and lifted Vic straight up out of the hole that unwillingly held her leg. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  No, I’m not all right! “Hold on a minute, D. Steady me please. I think this time I bruised my you know ... hoo-ha.”

  That’s a first. Trying not to laugh, “Want me to take a look at it? Greg has a first aid kit on his machine.”

  “Shhh ... I will be fine,” I answered the little boy inside the man, grabbing his arm and squeezing it to the bone to get him to hush.

  Greg, hearing his name, coupled with first aid kit, stopped and spun around. “Is she OK? Did she hurt something?”

  If her grip on my arm could kill, I’d be dead. “Only her pride, Greg. Only her pride.”

  Chapter 32

  Finally, we were off again screaming through the woods, zipping across peat bogs, climbing over logs and crossing the last two dams with ease. The last leg of our journey flew by.

  Greg slowed his machine to a crawl, motioning for me to do the same. Then he made a 360˚ turn and stopped. “You’re on your own from here. Now you walk. About one hundred and fifty yards up on the left there will be a timber cut. Follow it until you see three orange flags on a Jack Pine. Go into the woods there and follow the flags to the tree stand. I’m going to check more baited areas and will meet you back here by seven. Any questions?”

  D shook his head no. Of course he did. “Excuse me, Greg. I have one. How far is it to the stand, as you call it?”

  “It’s another thirty minutes of brisk walking, Victoria. Why?”

  “Just in case I have to, you know, go again,” I replied uncomfortably.

  “The two of you better take care of any business here. I don’t want you screwing up my bait areas.”

  “Copy that, Greg. That’s why I brought along extra Ziplocs. Vic almost has the hang of it.”

  Greg laughed? Damn him, and damn D, too, while we’re at it. “I do have the hang of it, thank you. It’s takes a whole lot of work to be a woman around boys when they’re playing with their toys.” Come to think of it, even more so, when they’re playing with me...

  Greg’s Ranger roared to life. “I’m outta here. If you’re gonna do that, do it here. Not in my tree stand!”

  Well, Vic knew just how to push his button and mine too, for that matter. “I’m not saying a word, girlfriend. After we start walking in, you’ll have to be quiet as in no talking. Whatever you need to get off your chest or out of—”

  “I’m fine. I just don’t like you making fun of me. I’m doing this for you, you know.”

  “That’s hilarious. I thought I was doing this for you, Victoria.”

  “I still don’t know what ‘this’ is, D? You’re carrying a rifle, a backpack and me into the woods. I can only deduce we’re going hunting.”

  Embracing her in both arms, I whispered, “We’re going exploring, trust me.”

  Why is it when men say ‘trust me,’ I always find myself catching my breath before thinking WTF is next? “Let’s do this. What are you waiting on?”

  Women, we can’t live with them, we can’t live without them. “Nothing, absolutely nothing. Follow me.”

  Walking quietly to the cut, we made the left into big timber where the undergrowth was at least six feet high on both sides of the old logging road. Twenty minutes into our trek with my mind thousands of miles away somewhere in Florida, I felt a tug on my sleeve.

  Mister outdoorsman is clueless. “D, did you hear that? I think something is following us.”

  “I’m sorry. What did you say, Vic?”

  “I said, I think something or someone is following us. When we stop, it stops. When we walk, it walks.”

  Trying to allay her fears, I pulled the rifle off my shoulder and chambered a round into the barrel. “There, whatever it is, we’ll be ready for it.” I motioned for Vic to follow me, then stop. Walk a few yards more, then stop again. Nothing. Guess her imagination is in overdrive right now. Then, off to my right I heard branches breaking in stride. Vic closed up behind me, close enough that I could feel her breath on my neck.

  I may not be a hunter, but I am always aware of my surroundings. “I told you, didn’t I? There is something out there.”

  “You have a great sense of hearing, Vic, I’ll give you that. There is definitely something following us. Let’s keep walking until I can figure out what it… is.”

  Great. ... and he’s the one with the gun. “A bear? I mean, what else will stalk you up here?”

  “It could be anything. The quicker we get to the tree stand the more we’ll be able to see,” which sounded much better than the safer we will be. Over the next rise, I saw a glimpse of the three orange flags dangling from the long needled pine. “Vic, it’s not far now. See the flags. We go left there.”

  And that’s supposed to give me some sort of relief? “I see them. Does that mean the tree stand is close by?”

  “It’s closer than it was when we started.” We were being tracked that’s for sure, but by the lack of aggression it seemed more about curiosity than a meal. Reaching the Jack Pine, I pushed Vic off the cut and onto the trail. “Wouldn’t you like to know what’s been following us?”

  I’d like to know if it’s going to eat us. “You’re gonna protect me, aren’t you?”

  “Of course I am, unless it’s a grizz. Then all you have to do is out run me.”

  Fat chance in these rubber boots. “Wait, there aren’t any grizzly’s in this part of Saskatchewan. You said so yourself.”

  “You’re a quick study. See you have nothing to worry about.” Taking her arm, I led her underneath the low hanging branches of the pine just deep enough for us to watch the trail. Maybe five minutes at the most passed before we heard loud snorting, followed by small trees cra
shing to the ground, announcing the arrival of our tracker, aka Bullwinkle. Stepping through the undergrowth exactly where Vic and I made the left, an old bull moose appeared, shaking the brush from his antlers.

  Oh my. That moose is at least fourteen hands high. It’s big enough to ride. “Will it bite?” I mouthed to D, hoping in that instant he could read my lips.

  I slowly put my forefinger to my lips, telling Vic to “Shhh!” We watched in amazement as the old guy sniffed and snorted the ground around him, doing his best to pick up our scent. After a couple of minutes, he caught wind of something else that raised his awareness, whereby he tilted his head high and trotted off into the brush out of sight, but not out of our memory.

  Chapter 33

  “Mind blowing, D. That was incredible. Did you see how big he was? Did you see how wide his antlers were? Did you know it was a moose all along?” Question after question rolled out of my mouth. “That was awesome.”

  It was impressive I had to agree. “Too many questions,” I whispered, “let’s go find the tree stand and I’ll answer them up there.” Making our way down the trail, the forest enveloped us, its density obscuring the late afternoon sun. “There, over there,” I directed Vic, following the flags along a line of sight straight to a dark green ladder disappearing high into a tree. “You first.”

  Of course me first, I wouldn’t stay down here by myself. “Wait, what if there’s something up there, D? Then what?”

  I had to laugh. “Then you’ll tell me and I’ll come up and shoo it off.” The ladder rose a good twenty feet through the branches to a metal tree stand built for two. Following closely behind her, I made sure Vic knew I was there by the constant cheek pinching I administered each time she stopped. “You’re almost there. Just a few more feet. Crawl on your belly through the rail, then stand up and I’ll hand you my gun and gear.”

  Climb the ladder, pinch my butt, crawl on my belly, suck my ... “I got it. Stop pinching my butt. I’m nervous to be this high in a tree. You’re good at barking orders, aren’t you? The next thing you’ll tell me to do is blow...”