Love Is in the Air (78 page)

Quinton really did not care one way or another what type of time Ralph had, but he did not want silence again. The more quiet time Quinton had, the more time he spent rehearsing over and over again what he wanted to say to Regina. Quinton knew, though, that the more he staged the words, the worse they would sound. No, it was best if he kept his mind occupied.

“Different, how?”

Ralph took drink of his coffee. “Don’t let the glasses and pocket protector fool you. I know my way around a woman’s anatomy, but Natalie, damn.” The younger man had to take another sip before continuing, “It seems that girl comes with an instruction booklet that I didn’t have time to read. She was like an airline traffic controller. Do this, don’t do that. This way. That way to the left.”

This was far more information than Quinton needed to hear, but he let the younger man ramble on. Anything was better than torturing himself over Regina. “So you’re not going to see her again?”

“Are you crazy? Of course, we’re meeting again tonight. Think I would pass up round two? I figure it’s got to go better than the first. At least I know the lay of the land now.”

Quinton found it odd to talk about sex in such mechanical terms. Even when he was younger and at his worst hound-dog phase, Quinton had always, at the very least, fancied himself in love. To have sex with someone just because she was available felt uncomfortable to Quinton. But it was not his life; it was Ralph’s. “Guess that means the hostess is out of the running.”

“Please. I need to get with her just to bolster my ego again. After Natalie, I’ll probably need a shoulder to cry on.”

“Sorry to tell you, Ralph, but we’re not going to be in town that long.”

The younger man stretched a bit and looked pretty proud of himself. “I’ve got the weekend. Natalie is going away with Gus to a car show in Sisters. Don’t count me out yet.”

Quinton could only shake his head at his assistant. To be young and stupid again. Still, Quinton would never go back to those days. They were far too confusing. Not that today was a breeze, but at least Quinton wasn’t thinking completely with his small head.

“Hey, look at that,” Ralph said excitedly, obviously starting to feel the caffeine buzz. A large poster was tacked to the telephone pole detailing an event at the Indian reservation. His assistant could not help but press the issue. “They’re having a potlatch this weekend. You going to go?”

“No,” Quinton said abruptly, trying to end the conversation before it got started.

“Oh, come on. It looks like it would be fun. Dancing, exchanging small gifts, lots of music. It sounds right up your alley.” When Quinton did not answer immediately, Ralph’s voice dropped low, and the younger man became serious. “You’ve got family up there—”

Quinton was already sick of this line of questioning. “Distant cousins at best.”

“We both know they’re the only family you’ve got. Why aren’t you visiting them?”

Even Ralph could not crush his buoyant mood completely, but the younger man was getting close. “I’ve got other plans.”

His assistant laughed. “Yeah, right. Like going out with the boss’s wife?” Ralph paused as Quinton’s face contorted, trying to hide his guilt. “Oh, my God. You are doing Mrs. Togglehorn!”

“I am not ‘doing’ anyone,” Quinton snapped. With his next words he tried to adopt a more neutral tone. “I said I would butt out of your personal business. I would appreciate it if you would leave mine alone as well.”

It was obviously difficult for the younger man to resist the urge to question Quinton, but Ralph stayed quiet. The cab was silent until they drove up to the sampling area of the forest. Quinton barely had the truck door open when Hurricane flew past him. The dog was hot on a rabbit’s trail before Quinton could even call the dog back.

“You gonna let him harass the wildlife like that?” Ralph asked nonchalantly.

“The dog has a greater chance catching that rabbit than I do bedding Regina.” Quinton had not meant to say it, but the words had just fallen from his lips.

The younger man took a moment and stared at Quinton. Finally, Ralph grabbed his gear and commented as he walked into the woods, “From the looks of it, that rabbit better get a move on. Hurricane might get lucky yet.”

Quinton felt his cheeks burn, and he wanted to retort to Ralph’s not-so-subtle comment, but he did not. Besides, he kind of liked the younger man’s take on things.

* * *

Regina crested another hill, only to find that she had gone the wrong way, yet again. The woman had been driving for over a half an hour, way out in the boondocks, trying to find grid number N2-A. It wasn’t like the forest was equipped with road signs. Every once in a while there would be a small sign tacked to a tree that designated which sector she was in, but half the time these were so badly faded that you couldn’t read them. The other half of the time, they had fallen off and were nothing more than black pulp.

She could not exactly swing by the office and ask Bud where N2-A was. What would she tell him when the foreman asked why she needed to know? Oh, yeah, it was because she was having a clandestine rendezvous with one of the surveyors. Regina was sure that would go over well. Instead, she and Fury were driving around and around the maze of backwoods roads.

The dog whined from the backseat, and Regina followed Fury’s nose. The dog’s nose was pressed against the left rear window. She stopped the Jeep and backed up. Fury whined again. With no better directional system, Regina turned down the dirt road, hoping that the dog did not have to just go the bathroom. Soon, though, Fury was up to full-scale alertness, whining every few feet that they drove. The dog was on her feet nosing the window excitedly. Regina could not help but get a bit thrilled herself. Finally, they crested the last hill and found Quinton’s truck parked near a Porta-Potty.

Fury was out of the car and over the next hill before Regina could even unhook her own safety belt. Straightening her new shirt, Regina set out after the dog. From over the bluff she heard a shout. She picked up her pace as other shouts followed. By the time she made it over the hill, Regina found Quinton on the ground with both dogs nuzzling him mercilessly. Fury was in ecstasy and had taken to nibbling at Quinton’s ear. Hurricane, not to be outdone by the new dog, was nipping at the other earlobe.

Regina ran forward, yelling at the dogs, but she was also too busy laughing at the scene. Even Quinton could not quite get a serious enough tone to his voice to call the dogs off. Regina tried to grab Fury’s collar, but the dog agilely darted away, only to come back and start nosing Quinton in the crotch. The man let out a startled bellow and tried to cover his groin area, but Fury just found this delightful. The Doberman began pawing at Quinton’s hands, trying to get to his pants. Hurricane, upset that once again he was being upstaged by the female, began tugging on Quinton’s shirt.

All in all, it was quite a scene. Regina did her best to shoo the dogs away, but they were in full-bore frenzy mode. She and Quinton’s near hysterical laughter were not helping calm them any. Ralph rushed over the ridge, but stopped short when he saw what all the commotion was about. The younger man gave her a brief wave, then tipped his baseball cap to Quinton. “Paybacks are hell, boss.” With that said, Ralph went back to his work.

After the moment of distraction, Fury was back at her task with gusto. Between laughs, Quinton was able to choke out, “Throw a stick.”

For a second, Regina did not understand the instruction, but then she saw the reason behind it. Grabbing the first branch she found, Regina whistled, getting Hurricane’s attention. The Labrador was immediately enraptured with the game and left Quinton’s side. Regina hurled the branch as far as she could. Once Fury saw that Hurricane was getting away with the new toy, the Doberman joined in the game of fetch.

Quinton slowly rose to his feet and assessed the damage. His whole body was covered in dirt and pine needles. Regina began to help by brushing off the debris. There was so much that it took both of them swiping away for a few minutes to even begin to clean him up.

“I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was Hurricane that knocked me down. Fury just joined in the fun.”

Regina started to enjoy this process just as Quinton was almost cleaned up. The only area still a mess was around his groin area, and she did not think it proper to wipe there. Quinton looked equally embarrassed and finally turned away to brush off his fly. Turning back, the man’s face was slightly red. “Well, that certainly wasn’t how I pictured this meeting.”

“Me either,” Regina said as she returned his smile. My, how bold she was becoming. Having the house to herself overnight had done wonders for her self-confidence. There had been no Wayne to remind her of how inadequate she was at everything.

“Let’s start over.” Quinton turned and put his hand on her shoulder, guiding her deeper into the woods. “I’m glad you made it. I was starting to worry.”

Regina noticed his hand lingered for a few more heartbeats, then unfortunately, it fell from her shoulder. “Me too. I got lost.” She inched closer as they walked forward, but they did not touch again.

“Well, lucky enough we were a bit tardy ourselves this morning.”

“What exactly are you doing out here?”

Hurricane and Fury ran up with a giant branch they had gotten from the forest floor. The thing was so big that together they almost could not carry it. Quinton picked up the huge stick and tossed it as far as he could. The man explained his job as the dogs disappeared behind the ridge.

“We’re collecting samples of scat.” Quinton must have read the look of confusion on Regina’s face, for he explained the term. “Scat is the droppings of wild animals. We can tell from their feces what animals live in the forest and what they are eating. Basically, it’s to determine how much life is going to be damaged by logging in this area.”

“So, you are looking for endangered species? Stuff like that?”

“Yes, but those species are just the tip of the iceberg. If this forest is cut down, it will decimate thousands of other lives. Within a tight, old ecosystem like this, every species relies on the other.”

“Why is Wayne cutting it down? There are huge tracts of new lumber growing over to the east.”

Quinton smiled sadly and patted her shoulder. “That’s just it. Even you call it ‘growing lumber.’ Really you’re growing a living forest that is home to hundreds of inhabitants.”

Regina squirmed under his touch. She was just using the vocabulary she had always known. It was a little embarrassing to think that Quinton might think her a local yokel, but wasn’t that exactly what she was?

“But you were right, Regina. It would be far better to harvest those younger trees with their immature ecosystem than these old-growth big daddies.”

“Then why aren’t we?”

“Simple economics. These trees produce a higher yield of superior-quality wood. They get more money per board foot. It’s that simple.”

As Quinton’s hand slipped away, Regina answered. “Then obviously you’re going to veto cutting this section down.” Regina went on when Quinton did not reply. “Right?”

“It’s a little bit more complicated than that.”

Regina could hear a hedge when she heard one. Wayne did it all the time. She never expected to get one from Quinton, though. The stranger seemed so forthright and direct. Perhaps he was not as perfect as she had fantasized him to be. Now would probably be a good time to figure that out, before she got any more of a crush on him.

“Do you know much about the ecosystem of evergreen forests?” Quinton asked, obviously rerouting the conversation back into science.

“No, not really. But I was more interested in what makes
you
so complicated.” Regina could not quite believe she had said that, but the words were out in the open. Even Quinton seemed stunned.

Clearing his throat, the man ended up coughing before replying. “I’m not even sure that I know the answer to that… Is there something more specific you would like to know?”

Regina knew he was stalling, but she did not blame him. She had put Quinton on the spot, but Regina liked having him be the one squirming under her attention rather than the other way around. Now, though, Regina needed to figure out what she really needed to know about him.

“How about why you are working in the environmental field?”

Quinton looked like he nearly winced and did not answer for a few moments. “It’s kind of a long story. Anything else you want to know that might not take so long?”

Scanning his face, Regina did not let him off the hook. Somehow she knew this would be an important tale for him to tell. His face looked contorted and pained, but Regina sensed he needed release rather than avoidance to end the discomfort. “I’ve got all afternoon. How about that long story?”

Quinton had briefly stopped walking, but Regina kept going. Painful memories were best dealt with on the move. She knew this from firsthand experience.

“Long ago, in a galaxy far, far away.” The man started, but Regina caught his hand and gave it a squeeze. She loved the humorous side of him, but knew that she would never get to see the real Quinton if he tried to make a joke out of it. The man’s fake smile fell from his face. Regina released his hand as they walked on.

Quinton’s voice took on a tone that she had not heard before. “Growing up in the country, I thought the whole world was like this. Pristine and balanced. Once I got old enough and started going into the big cities, I was appalled at the waste and abuse of nature. I went to school to become an ecologist, joined the green movement, and the rest is history.”

By his facial expression, Regina could tell they were not even close to the whole story. “But you said it was more complicated than that.”

* * *

Quinton cringed internally. Would this woman not drop the subject? Regina was getting to be as bad as Ralph. To his assistant, Quinton could be cold and detached. He did not have that option with Regina. But what could he say? Granted, the last few days he had felt fifteen years younger, and his old idealism was back in full force, but that was not who and what he was anymore. Quinton had sold out—he just forgot to tell Regina that.