The Middle of Somewhere Read Online Free

Liz said, and jammed her pole in the dirt.
    They retraced their steps to the junction. The brothers hadn’t moved. They regarded Liz and Dante from their side of the creek.
    She tried to keep the irritation out of her voice and pointed to the downstream trail. “It’s this way.”
    â€œReally?” the older brother said. “I was sure it was the other way.”
    The younger one added, “Thanks for saving us the mistake.”
    â€œNo problem,” Dante said, waving.
    They started off again. Before the trail veered to the left, Liz looked over her shoulder. The older brother stared in her direction. Given the distance, she couldn’t be certain, but she thought she detected a smirk on his face.

CHAPTER TWO

    A t six thirty, the sun hovered above the horizon, and they stopped for the day. The campsite overlooked Long Meadow, a vast expanse ringed with pines. The Echo Peaks and Matthes Crest stood guard in the distance. Tawny grasses in the meadow awaited the first precipitation since early May, and the tops of the peaks had lost their snow.
    Dante groaned as he lowered his pack to the ground, then sat on a fallen log to take off his boots. Liz unpacked the tent and began clearing pinecones and other debris from the rectangle she’d chosen for their shelter.
    â€œHow are your tootsies?”
    He crossed his ankle over his knee and examined the damage. His boots were new, as was the rest of his gear and clothing, but unlike everything else, he’d refused Liz’s advice on which boots to buy. She agreed that his choice, Italian Zamberlans, were fantastic boots, but doubted he would have time to break them in and suggested he pick a lighter, more modern style he could wear off the shelf. He’d ordered the Zamberlans, and she had packed plenty of moleskin.
    â€œSeveral, but not all, of my toes have sore spots.” He pointed out the red areas and turned his foot over. “And this looks perhaps like a blister on my heel.”
    Liz unfurled the groundsheet with a snap. Blisters on Day One. Not a good start. “Tomorrow morning please mole-ify all of them.”
    â€œOkay, Mama.” He sniffed his underarm. “I smell like a pig!”
    â€œWell, you’re in luck. I read there’s a standpipe nearby because of the High Sierra Camp. We don’t have to filter water, and if you carry it away from the pipe, you can wash, too. Luxurious, huh?”
    â€œYes. It’s wonderful that, after today’s efforts, I will be treated to a bath in a saucepan.”
    â€œA cold bath in a saucepan.”
    â€œOf course.”
    She clipped the tent ceiling to the arc of the central pole, then fitted the crosspiece through the grommets, forming the roof. “Ta-da!” She’d hoped Dante would clap, but he continued to worry his toes.
    A hiker came around a stand of trees a dozen yards away. Though the light was failing, he wore sunglasses and had trouble finding his way. He wasn’t anywhere near the trail.
    â€œHey, there!” She waved at him. “Are you lost?”
    â€œMaybe.” He took a step, caught his toe on a log and stumbled a few steps before righting himself. She guessed he was orienting by sound. “I’m looking for the High Sierra Camp.”
    â€œOh, lucky you. I hear those camps are swank.”
    Probing delicately, he took baby steps toward them. “I hope so. I just learned about it today.”
    Dante looked up from his podiatric pity-party and addressed Liz. “Why aren’t we staying there?”
    â€œBecause we’re stoic.” She noted Dante’s pout. “Well, some of us are. Besides, you have to reserve months in advance.”
    The man stopped dead. “Are you shitting me?” He unclasped his hip belt and threw the straps off his shoulders as if they were the strangling arms of a rabid orangutan. The pack hit a boulder with a crunch of metal and glass.
    Liz said, “Was that a