you to some shade and a long, cold shower.”
Grace glanced up at the mention of the shower but saw nothing in Lone Star’s face to indicate any indelicacy.
An elderly couple soon spotted the short, exhausted Asian woman shuffling alongside the tall, buff redhead with what looked like a baby carrier on his chest. They hurried over.
“We were on the lookout for hikers in need of some help.” The woman took Grace’s pack while the man carried Lone Star’s. “You never know what the desert will cough up this time of year. You two look like you’re in serious need of the joys of electricity. Ice and AC. I don’t understand why anyone comes to the desert without it.”
She invited them to a sizable RV. “We come here during the PCT thru-hiking season to help out. We used to be big hikers ourselves. But one thing and another. You know how it goes.”
Inside, a long-haired Chihuahua pranced at the woman’s feet, yipping and begging to be picked up. She scooped him into her arms and patted his head.
“Fritzy here is an indoor kind of guy. He has no idea what his mom and pop used to get up to.”
She turned the air conditioning to high, filled a floral print pitcher with ice and water, and placed two large plastic cups in front of Grace and Lone Star. Lone Star drained cup after cup without speaking. Grace watched.
I could have died out there if he hadn’t found me . I was so unprepared. So stupid. What am I going to do if he doesn’t stick with me tomorrow?
She refilled her cup from the pitcher as Lone Star finished his sixth glass.
“Sorry, ma’am. ” He wiped his mouth with his bandana. “I was feeling a bit parched.”
The couple lived outside Palm Springs. Lone Star chatted with them about desert life, his family’s El Paso farm, and what he’d seen on the trail. Grace relaxed in the coolness. Her mind drifted.
Kenji would never have ended up in this mess. He would have packed more water. He would have studied the risks. I’m a threat to myself, for goodness sake.
Lone Star was absorbed in a story of a rattlesnake, a pistol, and a bottle of Pepto Bismol. His freckled arms circled and waved as he drew his audience in. Grace leaned back and studied him.
Such masculine hands. Not an ounce of fat. Just muscle. A bear would think twice before attacking that body.
Lone Star paused and rocked in his chair.
“Well?” The woman leaned forward. “Don’t leave us hanging.”
Maybe hiking’s not the kind of thing an unfit person like me should do alone. Maybe you need a partner. I could have done this before breaking up with Ben. But that would never have worked. Ben was way too competitive. He’d have said, “I’ll see how much farther I can get than you today,” and that would have been the last I saw of him until Canada. No Ben is good. But no one in my life isn’t.
“Pink crud dripped all over him.”
Grace reached for her water glass as Lone Star gestured for effect. Her arm collided with his. Water spilled across the vinyl tablecloth and her shirt.
“Aw, Just Grace, I’m so sorry.” Lone Star handed her a napkin. “I should watch where these big hands of mine are flying.”
Grace flushed and rubbed the blotch. “Don’t worry about it. You’ve got great hands. I need a shower anyway. I probably smell like the elephant exhibit at the zoo.”
Lone Star laughed. “Darlin’, you smell as sweet as a daisy. Wait until you’ve been out on the trail for two weeks without so much as a rinse. Even the mosquitos won’t come near you.”
“I hope you still would.”
“You betcha. Nothing would keep me from your side.”
Lone Star gave her hand a squeeze. A warm tingle surged up her arm.
Maybe it’s not just me who’s thinking about us.
Outside, the evening breeze felt fresh and new. Grace beamed at the emerging stars.
Maybe he’ll stick with me after all.
Their gear lay under the motor home’s blue and grey awning. She picked up one of Lone Star’s shoes and peeked