Off the Grid
“Ha, you’re not wrong about that.”
They walked over to a fallen log and she knelt, carefully gathering the green substance. He couldn’t help but stare at her rounded rear. It was enough for a man to cup with two hands. His jeans tightened. He cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to scan the area to stop thinking of th
e tempting woman kneeling in front of him.
“We should head back. I want to do some fishing to stock up for the winter and grab dinner for tonight.”
“Are we making our own poles?” The enthusiasm in her voice coaxed a grin.
“Yep. I’ll show you how to make a hook, too. The pole is the easy part. It’s the hook that’s tricky.”
She bundled the moss in her arms and stood. “I’m good to go.”
“You like to fish?” he asked.
“Love it, and it’s been ages since I went out with my brothers.”
Where has this woman been my entire life?
“What’s biting now? Walleye?” she asked.
“Walleye, trout, pike, and salmon. The latter would break the rods we have, so we’ll stick to trout and walleye since we’re not actually getting in the stream. If we were using waders, I’d take you to the area where the salmon come through on their way to spawn. It’s easy pickings with a net, or a rock diversion.”
“What’s that?”
“When you find one of the lowest points of the creek bed, and you arrange the rocks to divert the water and the fish into an area where you can pick them up.”
“Aren’t you a clever Dan? Will I learn how to do that before the month is up?”
“Yes. I want to immerse you into the lifestyle as fully as I can.” He didn’t tell her she was doing a fine job of it on her own. She was the ideal student to bring out here. He wasn’t worried about her tromping through poison ivy, eating poisonous berries, or freezing to death if he let her go out on her own because she couldn’t start a fire. This is the kind of woman meant to live out here.
They hung her finds up in a tree, laid the moss out to dry in the sun, and moved to their next task.
“All right, we want to find a living tree branch about six to seven feet long and this fat,” he said, circling his thumb and his index finger. They hunted for their branch in solitude. He grabbed his own and watched as she tried to grab a branch just out of her reach. She rose on her tiptoes. Her tongue stuck out the side of her mouth. He walked over behind her. “Let me.” He reached around her, grabbed the branch, and yanked down. It snapped off. Her hair tickled him as she peered up, and he allowed himself to enjoy the curve of her frame.
Her eyes dilated and her nostrils flared. Her pink lips parted. He stepped back. “So now we want to break it farther down to the right length for us,” he said, backpedaling to break the wood before he gave into temptation. He broke it accordingly, and handed it back. “Next we’ll strip it down with our knives.” They worked in silence as the air around them charged with tension. “Since fishing line is a luxury item, we’ll find the right vines to act as our line.”
“Not going easy on a reporter, huh?” she asked.
“Then I’d damage my reputation. I’m going to expect more from you after all the one-on-one we’ll have.”
“I’ll make you proud, Finch.”
“Of that I have no doubt.” He might be rusty at flirting, but it seemed to flow naturally between them. “We’ll grab some of the trees closer to the stream. Keep your eyes out for ones that are about eighteen to twenty inches.”
They gathered the vines, carved a U-shaped hook from green wood, and made their way to the stream.
“Now can we dig for worms?” she asked in a silly tone that lightened his heavy heart. She was an unexpected contagious ray of sunshine.
“Yes, ma’am.”
They dug into the mud, baited their hooks, and cast out. She got the first bite, pulling the flopping carp in with a wicked glee. “Hope you can keep up with me.”
He laughed at her competitive spirit. “You want to go there with me?”
“Oh yeah, I’m challenging the Lord of the Forest.”
“You’re on. For that, I’m going to let you handle the fish yourself.”