Ride to Restoration (Ride Series Book 2) (17 page)

BOOK: Ride to Restoration (Ride Series Book 2)
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Chapter
30

N
ow
to drag Greg into my drama
. “Ladies, wouldn’t you like some tea? Would you
beautiful women be so kind to heat up the kettle? I need to talk to Greg for a
few.”


You

ll find him in the shop,

directed Debra.

That

s where he always is this
time of the morning.


Thanks, Debra, that

s where I

m heading. I

ll be along soon. While you

re bonding, do me a favor,
teach Vic how to pee in a bag.


Get out! You

re a mess.

Damn
straight!

D, I think she means you

re a
hot mess
!


Hot mess it is then. Vic, you explain the hot part, while
she explains the Ziploc protocol,

I added, watching a foreign object sail over my head,
signaling it was way past my time to leave.

I
found Greg busily packing a bag for us, complete with binoculars, head nets,
water bottles and snacks.

Is there anything you

re not sending into the
woods with us?


Good morning to you. Hey, you

re the one taking this girl
on her first hunt, not me. If it was just you, I

d let you pack your own bag.
I

m
doing my best to cover your ass.. as usual.

What
a great lead in to my next question. I couldn

t have timed it better
myself.

Speaking of covering my ass,
I need a big favor. We just returned from visiting Missy. I promised her mom
that the funds would be forthcoming to make the trip to St. Pete.

Looking
somewhat surprised, Greg asked,

Can you do that?


Nope, but you can on behalf of someone else. It

s a long story, the less you
know the better. Hold that thought; I

ll be right back. I

ve got to grab my daypack.

Returning with it to the shop, I dug deep into the bottom
of the bag, where only a few whole boxes remained. Ripping one open, I told
Greg to hold out his hands and close his eyes. Pouring the diamonds into his
hands, I clenched his fingers and pushed them into a doubled fist.

Greg, before you open your
hands, know this, there is a certain amount of risk that goes with what you now
hold. I

m
sure there is another way, but the urgency of Missy

s situation demands
immediate action.


Got it. If it helps her live a long and happy life that

s good enough for me.


Agreed. Open your hands.

Greg

s mouth dropped.

Are these real? Where did
you get them? Wait. The news, these diamonds are all over the news. Did you get
a package? Can

t see it, you giving all of it away if you did. What I can
see, clear as mud, is you

re the one behind the story. You

re the reason these instant
millionaires have been springing up everywhere over the last few weeks. Go
ahead, tell me I

m wrong.


You

re not wrong. Truthfully, you

re

bout dead on. Our secret,
OK? Remember, you can

t deny what you don

t know or something like
that. Anyway, you

re holding somewhere between three hundred and four hundred
carats. Half should more than cover Missy

s expenses and then some.
Take Debra on a

round the world cruise,

while you

re at it, on me. My way of
saying thanks.


I don

t

we don

t ... you don

t have to pay me. Being able
to help her is enough, D.


I got it. But, don

t forget there is a risk.
First, I need you to go to Toronto to the diamond exchange and quietly sell
enough of these on the open market to satisfy the hospital. Second, everyone
and I mean everyone up here and in Florida needs to know that Ms. Candice
Parker, from Chattanooga, Tennessee is the generous benefactor behind Missy
Bryan

s
ability to secure the treatments.


Who is Candice Parker? I

ve never heard you mention
her name before.


She was or is, I don

t know exactly which at this
moment, someone very special in my life. Let

s just say that her
connection to a well known Family, as well as to children

s healthcare makes her a
viable benefactor and leave it at that.


OK, Jon David, whatever you say. What do you want me to do
with all the left over diamonds and money? It belongs to you, not me.


Medicine Hat has a Teepee. Tisdale has the bee. Why shouldn

t Mistatim have the world

s largest duck?

Greg
rolled off his work stool laughing.

You

re joking, right? Mistatim
having the world

s largest duck. That

s amusing, then again it
would bring in lots of tourists

and
traffic, and people who don

t know how to mind their own business. Nope, I don

t like that idea one bit.


I was joking, Greg. Just put it away for me. Invest it
where you can get your hands on it if I find myself in a bind. Don

t you dare be afraid to use
it! I

m
sure there will be more Missys that cross your path down the road. You'd better
surprise Debra with a trip of a lifetime. I

ve known you long enough to
say this out of friendship; I

d better not hear that you

ve taken her on some African
safari that you think she might like. Deal?

Extending
his right hand, we shook on it.

You do know Debra likes to hunt as much as I do,

confessed Greg, a broad smile beaming across his face.


Remember what I said. Just this once make her the Princess
and you be the frog.


You

ve made that clear. I got it.


I also know you

ve still got many questions
and I

d
like to tell you more. I will soon enough.

The intercom buzzed.

Boys,

announced Debra,

Lunch is ready, and D

your tea is cold.


We

ll be right up,

I replied.

Tell Vic to put the tea cup between her boobs till I get
there. That

s bound to warm it up PDQ.


I heard that,

shouted Vic, in the background.


The walls have ears, huh Greg?


Not likely.
Women
have ears and they hear
everything.

Only when they want to; not
so much when they don

t.
I thought, my attention
turning again to Candi.

Chapter
31

W
ith
lunch behind us, Vic and I changed into the

smelly

camo Greg generously provided for our impromptu adventure.


Here, D, carry this,

announced Greg, handing me a Remington 7MM short mag
bolt-action rifle, along with an extra clip.

It

s my gun. You

re sighted in and good to
go.

A
gun, really? Come on, we are going hunting
.

D, I thought you said we were shooting with a camera. What

s with the gun?

Greg
looked at me shaking his head. I took the lead in answering her.

Protection, Vic. Up where we

re going there

s a bunch of horny old
trappers who haven

t seen a woman with teeth as beautiful as you in twenty
something years. I

ve got to have something to fight them off with ... or not.
Greg, on second thought, I

m sure Vic can take care of herself.

Asshole!

Whatever, bring the gun.

I

m not that
stupid, even if I do look like it dressed in this God awful smelly set of
coveralls.

Greg
brought the Green Mule to life, its white smoke reminiscent of our last
adventure. Traveling north on Second Avenue, the paved road quickly turned to
hardpan gravel, interspersed with rug boards, created by the endless farm
equipment that traversed the sections. After five miles we entered the Crown
Provincial Forest, the equivalent of our National Forests, where the road
turned into a trail, then later into a path with 18

deep ruts. Bouncing, bobbing, weaving, leaning, we held
onto the handholds as the Mule rocked and rolled us along at 5 mph another 30
minutes to our drop off.


You remember this place, Jon
David?

asked Greg.

This is where you took down that old 600 pound boar
with the clawed up face.


I remember. Because of you, we turned the trike over three
times trying to haul Brutus out. Didn

t get back till four in the
morning.

The
expression on Vic

s face

another Kodak moment.

Don

t look at me like that,
girlfriend. There are no absolutes when you go deep into the wilderness. You
get in when you get in, you get out when you get out. That is if you

re lucky.

What
has he roped me into today?

All
this jostling around getting here, I have to...


Pee? Go ahead, you

re among friends,

I chuckled, while handing her a Ziploc from my pack.

Come on, I

ll go with you. This I

ve got to see. You wanna
watch, Greg?

Boys!

Absolutely
not, it

s
bad enough to pee in a bag, let alone in front of you. Not Greg, nope, not
happening.


That

s OK, I

ll pass this time around,

snickered Greg.

I

ll get the machines off and
warmed up while you take care of her business.


Thank you, sir. Come on Vic, let

s go find you a tree.

Walking off the trail and out of sight, I found a downed
Trembling Aspen about two feet off the ground ideally suited for a woman.

Will this work for you,
barrister? Looks like the proper height and circumference for you to hang your
sweet cheeks over.

I can

t believe I

m doing this.
... What was I thinking when I agreed to go on this so-called adventure? Wait
just a minute; I never agreed to anything. I went with it.

It
will work. Give me a minute. I

ve
got to unhook, unzip, and untie.

Boys just unzip and let it fly, lucky them. Balancing
myself over a downed tree, while trying to hold a Ziploc bag is NOT my idea of
making pleasant memories!


Hold that thought. Better still hold it. I

ll help you. First, I have
to go.


Too late, D.

Relief! Ahh, that

s better. Oh
wait, the bags almost full! Stop girl! Remember your Kegels.

D, I ... uh ... need another
Ziploc.

Turning
back to her in full stream, I started drawing golden figure eights on the
ground as only a man can.

Just dump it out and fill it up again. I

ll be there in a second.

Like I can go anywhere. He

s such an ass
sometimes. Wait a minute. Why is he peeing on the ground and I

m peeing in a
bag? What did he just say, pour it out and fill it up again?

D? How come you

re not using a Ziploc? What
did you mean pour it on the ground and fill it up again? Something stinks.


I never said you had to pee in a bag now. You just assumed
—”
were all the words I could get out of my mouth before a
golden liquid filled Ziploc glanced off my shoulder.

Hey, you almost hit me in
the chest with that.


I was aiming for your head. Damn it! I missed.

I finished.

You think you

re so cute. Why did you give
me the bag if I wasn

t supposed to use it?


You

re the inquisitive lawyer in our midst. You

re supposed to ask the hard
questions,

I
replied, laughing loud enough for Greg to hear me at a distance.


Jon David, Victoria, all OK?


I

m fine, Greg. D, on the other hand, will not be once I get
my hands on him.

I can tell by the looks of
things already

this is going to be a long, long afternoon.

Relieved
being the understatement of the day, Vic and I joined Greg as he was securing
our gear on one of the 4x4 Polaris Rangers.

D, did you explain to Vic
about the beaver crossings?


Not yet! Figured we

d dress

em as we hit

em.

Has he been drinking? Have I
missed something?

D,
why are you talking silly?


We

re on an adventure to remember. Right? Are we having fun
yet? Don

t worry, we will.

And we were off with Greg leading the way. Moving into the
forest and beneath the tree canopy, the fresh smell of peat permeated the air.

What do you smell, Vic?

Like
I know ...

Stale dampness, like mildewed shoes.


It

s peat, like peat moss you use in the garden. We

re driving across peat bogs
at the moment.

The
ground would give way beneath our tires, leaving deep ruts, but only for the
moment. In less than a minute, the ruts would disappear as the peat sprang back
like a sponge. I saw Greg stop ahead, motioning me to ride up beside him.


First beaver, Jon David. You wanna go first?


Nope, it

s all you. Vic, you can walk or ride, your call. Both are
tough. If you ride, be prepared to hang your body over the side farthest away
from the ground.

Feeling
sheer terror, I asked
,

What
did you just say?


If I start to turn over, throw all your body weight to the
opposite side. Whatever you do, don

t get out unless it flips
you out. I

ll use your weight as a counter balance to offset mine and
the machine

s. I can see the whites of your eyes. Look, beaver build
great dams, but they have holes in the top. Sometimes we hit them, most times
we don

t.
Here we go. Hang on.

Following
Greg, I inched our way across the first one, tilting to the left, then the
right, before bottoming out fifty feet from the other side. I got this.

Vic, can you hop up in the
bed and put all your weight on the back?


What good will that do?

Seriously, at
138 pounds dripping wet what difference will it make?


It will put more weight on the back wheels. I need
traction. When I start rocking it back and forth, your weight will help the
rear wheels grab and I can jump out of this hole. Trust me!

Climbing
into the utility bed, I stood silently holding onto the roll bars knowing just
enough about physics to be dangerous.
This will either work or it won

t. It

s the won

t that concerns me. That and

trust
me
.


I

m ready. Just do it already.


Good girl!

Rocking
back and forth between forward and reverse, I finally felt the rear wheels
catch propelling us backwards.

Now forward,

I
shouted, throwing the Ranger into 1st while holding the accelerator to the
floor. We cleared the first hole easily enough, but the rear wheels landed
where our front wheels had been. With the throttle wide open, the Ranger
automatically threw all its torque to the rear wheels, standing it straight up
in the air while I was doing everything I could to keep from falling out.
Easing back on the gas the front end began to fall. Suddenly two hands appeared
over the front, then two arms and finally an entire body, Greg

s, his weight bringing the
front end quickly to the ground.


Now go!

shouted
Greg.

Floor
it!

The
front wheels grabbed traction and I lurched forward, not stopping until I made
it across the dam with Greg sprawled out across the front and Vic—
Where

s Vic?
Satisfied I was on solid
ground, I turned back to see Vic rising to her feet on top the dam, rubbing her
smarting cheeks with both hands.

What happened to you?

Asshole! What do you mean
what happened to me?

What

s it look like? I fell off!


I

m glad you

re OK. Watch out for the holes!

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