16
48 miles south of Delta, Russian Amerika
“Magda, I need to take a break.”
Welcoming his words, she immediately stopped and sat down next to a tree, leaned on the trunk and let her eyes close. “Okay.”
Both dogs sank to the ground, tongues lolling and eyes watchful.
“Stay where you’re at; I’ll be right back.”
Her eyes flew open. “Where are you going?”
“To add to the water table, okay?”
“Good idea, take your time.” She moved into the trees and relieved herself. She went back to the tree she had been leaning on; it seemed comfortable.
A Steller’s jay squawked irritably from high in a spruce tree, where the incessant wind kept its perch in constant motion. High, puffy clouds dotted the brilliant blue sky. The day sparkled for Magda and she wondered about herself.
Her feet and back hurt. Even though she and her parents had been trekking for weeks they hadn’t pushed the pace nor kept moving if someone were tired. Her stamina needed work.
Arrow crept over to her and pushed his nose under her hand. She absently scratched the dog’s ears and pondered their situation.
Jerry moved silently toward her.
What am I going to do about him?
She liked him a great deal, but beyond that she wasn’t sure. There had been other men, boys really, whom she had affected that way. Jerry was the first mature man, to her way of thinking anyway, who was obviously attracted to her, other than Viktor Mitkov. She pushed the thought of him away.
On one hand, it was terribly flattering. On the other, it felt frightening. What would he expect of her this quickly? Sex? Marriage?
Jerry was the first Californian she had ever met. But she had heard stories about their excessive lifestyles and licentious ways. She had heard the same sort of stories about the French.
“How are you holding up?” he asked. She saw nothing but concern in his face and felt touched.
“I’m fine. This is the farthest I’ve walked at one time in my life. Anyway that’s what my feet are saying.”
He laughed. “What a relief to hear you say that. My feet are killing me but I was afraid you’d think I was wimply if I mentioned it.”
“What’s wimply?”
“You know—weakling, unmanly, that sort of thing.”
“You don’t have to worry about that. I think you are a very strong, good man.”
To her astonishment, he blushed and looked away.
“Thanks, I appreciate that. Just let me know when you’re ready to continue.”
Feeling a little worried, she pushed herself to her feet. The dogs rose effortlessly and moved out to flank her. Although confused, she wanted nothing more than to kiss Jerry.
“Okay, follow me.”
“Happily,” he said.
She heard engine sounds in the distance and her lethargy dissipated instantly. The ache in her feet seemed to disappear and she moved swiftly down the trail. Behind her she heard the comforting tread of Jerry’s feet.