Reconsidering Riley (7 page)

She'd already begun doubting the wisdom of
taking five distraught breakup-ees into the Arizona wilderness, far
from *69, cookie-dough ice cream, and DVDs of
An Affair To
Remember
. This new development—The "Ex" Development—cast her
plan even further into question. Her anti-heartbreak workshop
attendees, chosen to participate as they had been by a Snap Books
publicity contest, had every right to expect a quality experience.
Mitzi, Carla, Doris, Donna, and Kelly would be looking to Jayne for
guidance...guidance she feared she couldn't give, when paired up
with the one man she hadn't
quite
gotten over.

The one man who, as it happened, had
inspired
her
Heartbreak 101
book and its strategies:
Riley.

"Don't worry," Bud said, breaking the
(panic-filled) silence. "I've never known Riley to go back on his
word. If you say you have an understanding with him, then I'm sure
that's all you need."

Sure. That, and a big padlock for her
heart—so Riley wouldn't be able to slip past her defenses
again
. No problem.

Bud offered a reassuring pat to her
shoulder, as though Jayne were a delicate woman, easily bruised by
life's ups and downs. She guessed he'd already seen past her tough,
take-charge-woman cover. The realization didn't engender
confidence. Because while Jayne
was
perfectly capable and
usually quite self-assured, the big chink in her armor was her
susceptibility to Riley Davis.

When it came to him, she was on shaky
ground—and her favorite pair of leopard-print marabou-trimmed mules
had nothing whatsoever to do with it. Jayne had her
vulnerabilities. Evidently, love 'em and leave 'em types like Riley
were tops on the list.

Or at least
he
was.

Gathering her courage, Jayne squared her
shoulders and faced her host. She'd tried to secure a trail guide
reassignment. She'd failed. The only thing to do now was move
forward.

"Thanks for all your help, Bud."
Impulsively, she hugged him, feeling his flannel shirt soft beneath
her cheek. "I'm sure you're right about Riley. Things will be
fine."

He chuckled. "Atta girl."

A bell chimed, scattering the birds who'd
been pecking at the ground near the deck. It chimed again,
louder.

Bud released her. "Lunch bell. We'd better
get a move on. Gwen's grub doesn't last long around here."

Hungrily, Jayne followed him from the deck
into the lodge again. Maybe things really
would
be fine, she
told herself. She and Riley were both adults. Surely they could
behave responsibly for the duration of one measly weeklong
trip...couldn't they?

After all, her new book contract, her belief
in her "gift," and her faith in herself were all at stake. If Jayne
couldn't resist Riley long enough to conduct a successful series of
workshops for her breakup-ees, then she certainly didn't deserve to
consider herself
over him
. And she probably didn't deserve
the tongue-in-cheek label of "self-help guru" bestowed so often on
her, either.

Not that Riley knew about her
expertise
, she remembered. He thought she was merely a workshop
participant, not the workshops' leader. A spark of curiosity flamed
to life inside her as she caught sight of him at the far end of the
lodge's communal dining room. What—exactly—would he say when he
learned her secret?

Shortly after lunch—a chatty exercise in
diet-regimen comparisons Riley never hoped to repeat again—he
gathered the women in the lodge's common area, a twenty-by-thirty
room furnished with Craftsman-style chairs, two sofas, assorted
side tables with lamps, and a yawning fieldstone fireplace. Beside
him was Alexis. Beside her, stacked on the table to the left of the
fireplace, were the supplies the Hideaway Lodge provided its
adventure travel guests.

"This is your gear." He gestured toward the
backpacks, two-person tents, and other items, having already
dispensed with a welcome and his usual pep talk about the beauty of
the surrounding countryside—a pep talk Riley believed in. "These
are loaner items, yours for the duration of your trip. Some of
these supplies may be unfamiliar to you, so stop me if you need an
explanation as I hand things out. I don't want to go too fast."

"Smart fella," Doris piped up from the
second row. "A woman
likes
a man who takes it slow."

"Nonsense," Donna rebutted, shaking her
steel-colored curls at her sister. "There's room for a quickie now
and then, too."

"Yeah!"

The other women chimed in. Within seconds,
the atmosphere devolved into a debate over "slow and steady" versus
"hard and ready." Riley could hardly believe his ears.
This
was the fairer sex?

"Hey!" He slapped his hands over Alexis's
innocent ears, lest she hear something she wasn't prepared for. His
niece had volunteered to help him outfit the group—not receive an
X-rated play by play of the various ways to get funky. "Can we get
back to business, please?"

One by one, the women quieted. Carla, the
last one talking, closed her mouth with an abashed look. "Sorry,"
she mumbled.

"Okay." He uncovered Alexis's ears. "As I
was saying—"

In the front row, Jayne crossed her legs.
Her baby blue dress parted beneath its row of buttons, revealing a
curvy length of bare leg. Riley lost his train of thought
completely. In fact, he was pretty sure his train of thought
careened into an entirely different station.

Woo, woo! Woo, woo!
All aboard! Next
stop:
see what you've been missing
!

He tried again. "Uhh, about these
supplies—"

Now she was swinging her top foot back and
forth, in a slow arc that called his attention to those sexy shoes
of hers. Shoes that were made not such much for walking on as for
being seen in, as far as Riley was concerned. But when he swept his
gaze upward, her face gave away nothing. Only the merest hint of an
arched brow suggested Jayne realized her actions had had any effect
on him.

Fine
. Two could play at that
game.

He cleared his throat and addressed the
expectant group. "These supplies have all been field tested and
will see you through every adventure in the coming week."

Absently, Jayne ran her fingers up and down
her pendant's chain, drawing his eye to the subtle cleavage it
adorned. Riley watched her fingertips graze the bare skin at her
throat, move lower, lower....

He blinked. Desperately, he summoned the
next part of his beginner's orientation. "There are ten essentials
you'll need on the trail. First, a map."

At his side, Alexis selected a 7-1/2-minute
USGS Northern Arizona map and held it in front of her, gesturing
toward it like a smiling game show hostess.

"This is a topographical map," Riley
explained. "Topos are the wilderness traveler's most important
navigational tool. They show roads, rivers, trails, and, most
importantly, the lay of the land. These contour lines—" Alexis
unfolded the map and pointed to the series of squiggly circles and
wavy lines on its face. "—show cliffs, passes, mountains, ravines,
canyons—you name it. If we're going to cross it, descend it, or
climb into it—as in the case of Catsclaw Canyon, our primary
site—it will be on this map."

Mitzi raised her hand. "It looks like my
mom's wallpaper."

"I once made a tie-dyed T-shirt that had
exactly that same pattern," Donna volunteered.

"Oh, it did not," Doris said. "Your T-shirt
wasn't nearly so attractive as that map."

"The green is pretty," Kelly said shyly.

Riley nodded, seizing on the first comment
he felt qualified to address. "Dark green indicates tree cover.
Forested areas. Light green shows scrub brush cover. As we climb
into the canyon, we'll see plenty of both, along with some high
desert plants like cholla and yucca."

"There's yucca in my conditioner," Carla
said. "It really makes my hair feel soft."

Instantly, an animated conversation ensued
about shampoo, split ends, and hairspray. Completely befuddled,
Riley stared.

This was going to be a
far
different
group than he usually led.

Jayne kicked off one shoe. Sensuously, she
ran her toes along her shin. Riley looked at her abandoned pink
stiletto and couldn't help but imagine her kicking off its mate.
Unbuttoning her dress. Giving him a smile while she—
stop
it
.

He put his thumb and middle finger in his
mouth and whistled. The women quieted in surprise.

Smiling, Riley moved on. Unique as this
group was, he had the patience to deal with them.
Im
patient
adventure travel guides tended to wind up dead, unemployed, or
both. Even though his primary career was photography and he loved
it, he loved the outdoors just the teensiest bit more. Taking
pictures only subsidized his travels—kept him in trail mix and
Gore-Tex.

"Next is your compass," he said as Alexis
held up a basic model. "Combined with your topos it will keep you
on the trail, enable you to identify landmarks or follow a bearing.
With this, you won't get lost."

"I got lost in Nordstrom once," Carla said.
"They moved the cosmetics department to another floor, and it,
like, totally discombobulated me."

Heads nodded all around. "The Estée Lauder
counter is my touchstone," Jayne said. "I start from there and just
fan out."

"Doris has no mall sense at all," Donna
said, angling her head toward her sister. "She's been known to ride
the escalators up and down, just hoping to catch a glimpse of
whatever store she's after."

"That's not true," Doris argued. "I was
checking out the mall security guard. He was cute!"

Donna shook her head, clearly
unconvinced.

Riley made a mental note to consider tying
the group together on the first day, chain-gang style, so they
wouldn't get lost.

"I accidentally followed a UPS guy into the
men's room at my office building once," Kelly said, glancing down
with pinked cheeks. "He looked so good in his uniform, I forgot
where I was."

They all sighed in commiseration. Even Jayne
nodded.

Rolling his eyes, Riley waited for their
attention to return to him. He would never, in a million years,
understand women's fascination with UPS men. Delivery guys in ugly
brown shorts and matching shirts. What was the big deal,
anyway?

"I don't go to the mall at all," Mitzi said.
She popped her gum. "All those different entrances and color-coded
parking lots confuse me, so I go to Target instead."

Okay. He was
definitely
bringing a
long length of rope for the first day. This group was
directionally-challenged.

"Next up," he said. "Water."

Expertly, Alexis held up a liter bottle and
pantomimed taking a drink. Grinning with the kind of enthusiasm
only a thirteen-year-old girl could muster, she rubbed her skinny
belly. Riley winked at her. "Nice job," he mouthed.

He turned toward the group of women. "You
need to stay hydrated. Water is—"

"Excuse me." Jayne raised her hand. "I'm
sorry. Is Evian okay?"

He smiled. Next she'd be asking if she could
pack in an espresso machine. "It's fine. But since a gallon of
water weighs about eight pounds, there's a limit to how much we can
realistically haul in. So while we're on the trail, we'll use a
combination of bottled water, filtered water, boiled water, and
chemically treated water. I'll go into the details tomorrow."

She nodded and went back to fiddling with
her necklace.
Up, down
went her hand on its gold chain.
Gently, her fingers curled around the heavy pendant between her
breasts. Rubbed. Riley briefly closed his eyes and made himself
think about something besides how much he'd like to follow that
same path.

He
definitely
had to get to the "two
could play at that game" portion of this presentation.

"To go along with the water," he said,
watching as Alexis held up two foil packets, Vanna-White-style,
"you'll need food. Hiking and camping require plenty of
energy."

Alexis, who'd been listening to this spiel
since the age of eight, piped up. "In wilderness-speak, 'energy'
means 'calories.' He means you'll need
plenty
of
calories."

All the women brightened. He had their full
attention.

"Everyone will be responsible for carrying
their own food, which the Hideaway Lodge will supply."

Carla raised her hand. "Is it Zone perfect?
I've been eating in the Zone for two weeks now."

"Really?" Jayne asked, looking intrigued as
she turned to Carla. "How much have you lost?"

"Four pounds."

"Wow! Good for you!"

They all applauded. Riley cocked his head in
confusion.

"What about Weight Watchers points?" Mitzi
asked. "How many in that packet?"

Alexis turned it over quizzically, peering
at the nutrition information.

"We're on the Atkins diet," Donna put in.
"Doris and I don't eat high-carb foods."

"Speak for yourself, Doris. This is the
wilderness. We've got to eat to live."

Kelly raised her hand. "Will there be
s'mores? I went to Camp Weehawkin when I was ten, and we had
s'mores."

They all looked at him expectantly. Riley,
suffering from a flashback of the lunchtime diet regime
comparisons, took a minute to realize it.

"I don't know about that stuff. We'll be
eating—" He squinted at the packages. "—old-fashioned beef
stroganoff with mushroom sauce, and down-home vegetarian entrée
with beans. Period. End of story. Now, as far as the rest of your
supplies go...."

"
Awwww
."

Refusing to be suckered by their
disappointed faces into revealing the Snickers bars he always added
to each pack for trailside pick-me-ups, he went on to discuss the
other essentials. Firestarter. Matches. An Army knife. A first aid
kit. A flashlight.