Desire in the Arctic (8 page)

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Authors: Stacy Hoff

BOOK: Desire in the Arctic
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Thank God for that.
All she had negotiated for was money—fifty thousand dollars for even attempting the twelve day challenge. Redd was smarter. What good would fifty thousand dollars do if she were dead? The money would go to her parents, but with the million-dollar life insurance policy she had Teleworld take out, they wouldn’t really need it. Besides, her parents wouldn’t want to get any money that way . . .

She reached down further into her backpack and pulled out lightweight fabric bound into a small brick-like shape. “I’m afraid to undo the packaging to find out what this is. Any ideas?”

“It’s either tent covering or ground covering. Hopefully both.”

“It’s awfully lightweight. I’m glad not to have to carry anything heavy, but will this give us warmth if we need it?”

“You’d be surprised,” he answered matter-of-factly. “It’s not the weight but the material that’s important. We need something strong enough to resist wind, waterproof to keep us dry and insulating enough to retain heat.”

Ana internalized the seriousness of his words. If they didn’t have adequate protection from the elements, they’d have a pretty big problem. She dived back into the bag and pulled out a thin packet of wipes. “Oh. These will come in handy I guess. It’s not like there are any sinks around here.”

“Or bathrooms,” Redd added with a smirk.

“You’re not going to scare me off, you know,” Ana shot back. She added under her breath, “Not that I’m looking forward to peeing in the great outdoors.” Then a thought hit her. “To be honest, I’m surprised Teleworld’s not making us use leaves to . . . er . . . clean up.”

Redd gestured around them. “That’s because there are no leaves. Given that fact, I’m sure they wanted us to look clean for the camera.” Redd winked at the camera. Clearly enjoying her discomfort.

“Sounds peachy.” She turned back to her backpack and pulled out some plastic. Her face scrunched up in confusion. “Ziploc baggies?”

“I’ll explain those when you need to know.” She was obviously about to argue with him, so he held up his hand in a “stop” motion. “Trust me on this one. Some things you need to be gradually pushed into.”

“Er, okay.” She cleared her throat and looked into the camera. “Well, folks, that’s all I have in here. So we’ve got some clothes and tent materials, plus our rolled up sleeping bag we’d slung on the outside of our packs. And our rifle.” She was about to put the backpack down when she felt something cylindrical inside. “Wait, there’s something else in here.” She pulled out a small canister. “Pepper spray?” She frowned. “That’s crazy. We’re not going to get mugged all the way out here.”

Redd let out a sharp laugh. “That’s not for muggers. It’s to protect us against bears.”

She looked at him straight on. “I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. Bears don’t like getting sprayed with this stuff anymore than people do.”

Ana paused for a minute. “I don’t even carry pepper spray when I ride the subways. This will be a first.”

“There are a few things to know about using pepper spray out here. One, make sure the wind is not blowing when you use it or you could make yourself even more vulnerable by immobilizing yourself. Pretty painfully I might add.”

“Ooooh. That sounds bad.”

“Even worse, if the pepper spray is old, the petroleum in the spray will actually attract the bears.”

“Ironic,” she said stiffly.

“Yep. See if the can has an expiration date.”

Ana flipped the can upside down and read the tiny print. “It says it’s good for another full year.”

“Excellent. Be sure to carry the can around with you at all times.”

“Well, I guess using this nasty stuff would be better than shooting them. I’d hate to kill anything.”

“Me, too. If we did, we’d have to bail on the show.”

“What? Why?”

“Because the law says if we kill a bear, even in self-defense, we have to return the carcass immediately to the Park Rangers.”

“Oh. So now I’ve got two reasons to not want to kill a bear.”

“Right. Is that everything in the bag?”

Plunging her arm in again, she felt around for any remains. The two items left were pulled out one at a time. “Another gun? I thought they were giving us only the rifle. And here’s a box, too.”

“It’s the flare gun. In the box is the flare itself.”

They were silent for a minute. “Yeah, well, we won’t be needing that,” Ana said with a toughness she didn’t quite feel.

“Sure. Being out here will be a cakewalk. No, easier than that. A cupcake walk. With lots of frosting.”

“Fantastic. I love frosting,” she deadpanned. Was the man grinning? Who could tell?

“I’m more of a raspberry filling kind of guy, myself. But since there are no bakeries out here, perhaps we should see what I’ve got in my backpack.”

“Good a plan as any.” She waited for him pull out the first item.

“Okay,” Redd confirmed. “Time for show and tell. For us, and our television audience alike.” He glanced at her and she gave him an encouraging nod. “This is a multi-tool,” he explained, taking out a small, yet bulky looking black metal oval. “This works like a Swiss Army Knife. You pull out the type of blade or tool you need.” He grabbed hold of the oval and pulled out the different components one by one. “Knife blade with a straight edge. Knife with a filet edge. Scissors. Pointed metal rod to poke holes. And lastly, a mini-saw head.”

Ana felt her face crunch up. The kinds of tools that were included sounded great but they were so small. How effective could anything that size be? “Are those going to be helpful?”

“Should be.” His voice sounded less sure. Was he being dramatic for the cameras, or were they potentially screwed? She was about to ask him when he continued with the items in his backpack.

‘I’ve got a small pot,” he said, holding it up. “It’s critical to be able to boil water out here.”

“Hot water will be very soothing. Especially when the weather drops,” she agreed.

“Yes, but I was referring to boiling water so we don’t drink parasites. You never know if an animal died in the river and all the bacteria is floating around.”

“Oh. Then it’s good the network allowed us to have it.”

“They didn’t want to. It was part of my agreement. There were certain items I wasn’t going to budge on.”

“Oh,” she said again, thinking she’d have to cut this part out of the footage if she wanted to keep her job.

“The Park Service also forced Teleworld’s hands.” He held up a small container. It was about the size of an interoffice memo and a few inches wide. “World’s smallest bear-proof food container. Bears can smell food for miles around. If you don’t keep your food locked up they’ll find it. And you.”

Ana gulped hard and pushed the thought away.

“I’ve got the tent rods in here,” Redd continued. “That’s good.”

Ana felt herself relax at the sound of optimism resonating in his voice. “Super. It should save us a lot of effort on finding more wood.”

“Oh, that’s not why I’m happy, although you certainly have a point. I’m glad because using any of the existing tent frameworks found here, even the old campsite stones, is against the law and would be an insult to the native tribes who live here.”

“People actually live out here?” she asked, eyes wide. “In Gates of the Arctic National Park. How—”

“They sure do. It’s their tradition. There are quite a few remote homes out here. These people practice subsistence living. They wouldn’t want to live any other way. Don’t you have your own traditions you want to hang on to?”

“Not in a survival kind of way. Unless you consider taking the D train into Manhattan every morning a survival activity.”
Whoops. I’ll have to edit this out. I forgot I’m supposed to live in Manhattan.

“Funny,” he said straight-faced. “Don’t make light of what these people go through to keep their traditions alive. You’ll never know how hard it is for them.”

Ana felt her forehead scrunch up. Why was he being so moody? “Let me guess,” she said sourly, “you know what they go through, right?”

“Yes.”

Ana felt her eyes grow round. “You’re native?” she asked quietly.

“No, but I’ve lived out here. Many years ago, before my time in the military.”

Afraid to interrupt the flow of words from this taciturn man, Ana sat in silent anticipation.

“My father moved out here,” Redd said softly, “when I was little so he could pan for gold. Back in those days, people could still find some with relative ease. I’d visit my dad some summers, and we’d camp along the riverbeds where he’d pan.”

Ana nodded. “Go on.”

“There’s nothing else to say about it. Other than, I know how volatile things can be out here, like surviving the night.” He looked up at the still-sunny sky. “It’s not dark, I know, but trust me, it can still get plenty cold. Let me show you the best way to start a campfire. That way if something happens to me you’ll know what to do until the plane comes back.”

Ana winced.

“You know, that reminds me,” Redd added. “I should also explain to you how to fire this gun.” Redd smiled grimly as he held the shotgun up to the one working camera. “If a bear wants to attack you, firing this gun may be the only chance you’ll have to live to tell the tale.”

She gulped hard.

“I hope you’re a good shot,” he added. “You’ll need to be since we were only given two bullets.”

Ana twitched.

Silence permeated the air until Redd changed the topic. “Well, it looks like that’s everything we’ve got packed.”

“It can’t be,” Ana sputtered. “Where’s the dried food they promised?”

“They promised food? Not to me they didn’t. In any case, there’s obviously none here.”

“Why that lying sack of s—” She cut herself off, along with the camcorder. “I think I’m going to have a chat with Mark when I get back.”

If I get back.

Chapter 11

Redd fell silent as he tended the campfire. Ana had a way of making him say more than he wanted to. Much more. Silence was golden as far as he was concerned. Who wanted to talk about their tortured past? Certainly not him. If she kept up her questions and that sympathetic look on her face, the next thing he knew he’d be blubbering about Hailey. Good thing he’d stopped Ana in her tracks with his comment about bears and guns. As an added benefit, maybe she’d realize just how dangerous a situation they were in.

Redd tightened his lips in resolve. Special Ops had successfully trained him to withstand water boarding torture should he ever be captured. If he could remain silent in the face of an enemy, what challenge could a small, bohemian New York City woman pose? Not much. After getting a healthy dose of his steady silence she would eventually give up with her persistent questions.

But was Ana really the enemy? She seemed genuinely interested in him. Heck, from her continued stares when he was singing at the bar, she seemed to be
really
interested in him. He could understand the attraction, since he was experiencing it himself. But he wasn’t going to do anything about it. His job was to see her safely through this wilderness. He would not get distracted from his goal. He knew only too well what happened when he took his eye off the ball. Damned if he’d make the same mistake again.

Maybe being out here, alone with tempting Ana, was some kind of penance for his failure to take care of Hailey. If so, the penance was well crafted. Watching Ana, especially with the firelight making her dark brown hair gleam pretty red highlights, was not a good idea. Not if he wanted to remain aloof to her. The more attractive she became the more he knew he’d be tempted to open up to her—an unacceptable outcome.

Stiffening his back, he forced himself to concentrate on what was important. He had to admit, their campsite looked pretty good for last-minute construction with limited tools and equipment. The dome-like tent was built. Small, not much bigger than the two sleeping bags that were inside, resting on the cloth groundcover.

Having such a small tent space was both good and bad. The good news was that smaller square footage would be easier to keep warm. The bad news was that it would place him in direct proximity with her. With no escape. Where would he go? Sleep under the stars, exposed to the elements? Not. Awkward was definitely better than dead.

Speaking of deadly, he had loaded the shotgun and put it next to his sleeping bag. But since they hadn’t eaten at the campsite yet, the threat of bears this evening was low.

“I can’t believe it’s almost ten o’clock at night,” Ana said, looking up from the wristwatch she’d borrowed from Devon. “I’m exhausted but don’t know if I can sleep with all this light.”

“Sure you can. The tent will block out the sky. The hood of the sleeping bags cover most of your face. They’re mummy-style.”

Ana burst out laughing. “Excellent. I want my mummy!”

It was hard for him not to laugh along with her. He tightened his lips to stop himself. “Unless your mummy carries a shotgun, the bears won’t be too impressed,” he said in a serious tone.

“Is it safe to go to sleep?” she asked more soberly.

“We’ll be fine tonight.”

“Okay. Then I guess we should go to bed.” A streak of red stained her cheeks. Redd felt himself get hot too, although not from embarrassment. He shook off his inappropriate thoughts and returned to business-mode.

“Um, maybe it’s time for me to test out the bathroom situation,” she said tentatively.

“Take the packet of disposable wipes and find a nice place. Don’t worry about me seeing you, I’ll be in the tent.” He almost laughed again as her cheeks were now totally red. “You said you could handle it.”

“I said that when the cameras were rolling. I lied. So sue me.”

“You’ll be fine. It’s simply a fact of life out here. Unless you can find a nearby Seven Eleven?”

“Funny,” she said tightly.

“Oh, and don’t forget this,” he said, handing her the pepper spray. “And this,” he added, handing her a Ziploc bag.

“If I keep the pepper spray in the Ziploc, won’t it slow me down if I’m attacked?”

Redd shook his head. “Nope. The plastic bags are not to hold the spray.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You’ve got to leave no trace behind.”

When she still gave him a blank look he tried explaining again. “You’ve got to carry out everything you carry in.”

“Oh my. You don’t mean
used
toilet paper has to be carried out, too?”

“Yep. Or you could burn it in the fire.”

“But won’t that, you know, smell?”

“There’s no way to get rid of our waste that’s ideal. Try one way, and the next time try the other if it makes you feel better. Oh, and don’t forget, don’t relieve yourself near the streams. It pollutes them. And for anything really nasty you need to do, be sure to dig a hole a couple of inches deep first.” He handed her one of the big sticks but she shook her head.

“Er, thanks, but I won’t have to dig a hole now.”

Redd decided to be kind and leave her to her horror in peace. If she got any whiter she’d blend right into an Arctic blizzard. He bent low to enter the tent and made himself at home. Somehow he doubted she could ever feel that way here. It was a helluva long way from New York.

This had to be a joke, Ana thought sourly. It
had
to be. She couldn’t believe she’d have to carry out her own
used
disposable wipes. She didn’t consider herself prissy, but
man
, this was reaching a whole new level of uncivilized.

But as uncomfortable as that thought was, the thought of sleeping with Redd was even more uncomfortable. No, not sleeping
with
Redd, but sleeping
next
to Redd, she corrected herself. But in a tent the size of a toothpick, the distinction made little difference.
Awkward.

Her feelings about spending the night with him were mercurial. Redd was handsome and obviously a protector. Those qualities were highly desirable. But Redd had a brooding side, too. One that clearly stated, in bold red font, “Go away.” Would he resent being forced to stay with someone who, quite literally, could not leave him? And would her being bound to him tonight set him further on edge tomorrow?

Back at the campsite she was going to find out quickly. She threw the little Ziploc into a makeshift garbage bag and hurried inside the tiny tent. The entrance flap closed behind her.

“How’s the weather out there?” Redd was rubbing his hands together, no doubt in an attempt to warm them. The speed at which the temperature outside had dropped was remarkable.

“Let’s just say I’m not confused we’re in the Arctic.”

“Look on the bright side. If we came out here a few weeks from now, you’d have more heat but you’d have swarms of mosquitos, too.”

“No way. Not this far north.”

He nodded. “There are more mosquitos up here during the summer, density-wise, than the Equator. Seriously. It’s a fact that should appear in Ripley’s. Alaska’s mosquitos put the Tropic’s to shame. Not just in quantity but in quality.”

She shot him a look. “Now I know you’re teasing. People don’t rate mosquito quality. They’re pests, not fine wine.”

He barked out a short laugh. “Well, you’d whine if you saw them. They’re super-sized out here. Alaskans jokingly refer to them as the state bird.”

She felt her knees grow weak. “I don’t want to see one.”

“Out here they don’t carry disease. At least not typically. That’s what I mean when I say they’re better in quality. But you’d still need to walk around in a full-on mosquito netting.”

“Then I’m surprised Teleworld didn’t wait a few more weeks to film. I would have thought Mark would have loved to see me walk around with a fishnet stocking thingy over my face. Give the audience an easy laugh.” She leaned over to take the smaller camcorder off the floor and pressed the ‘on’ button. “Speaking of filming, might as well get some taping in.” She sighed.

If Redd was annoyed to have the camera on him he didn’t show it. “Summer or no summer, I’m glad I took the rocks from the fire and put them in the tent to warm things up. Don’t touch them,” he warned, pointing to a little space he’d made off to the side of the tent.

“Great, thank you. It is warmer in here. I’m glad to be back inside.”

“I’m glad you’re back, too. I can’t have you continue to wander off until I teach you how to use the gun and convince you to take it with you. I don’t trust pepper spray.”

“I’ll be okay without the gun. I may not know about mosquitos but I studied up on how to handle wild bears on the plane ride.” She would have taken the little book with her if the show allowed it.

“Oh, really?” Redd asked, eyebrow arched. “Do tell.”

“Never surprise a bear,” Ana prattled off. “Be double careful by dense brush or by rivers where the sound of running water masks the sound of a person’s approach. Should I see a bear, let it know I’m there by making a loud racket. Shouting, singing, making whooping noises, whatever.”

“Very good,” Redd acknowledged. “What else?”

“If a bear approaches me, don’t flee. They can run up to thirty miles an hour so they can’t be outrun. They climb and swim faster than a person, too. The best course of action is to slowly veer far away from the bear, giving the animal a lot of space.”

Redd nodded his approval. “Keep going.”

“If a bear notices me, or comes toward me, stand tall and speak in a low, clear voice. Wave my arms above my head.”

“You have been studying up. Good job. Anything else?”

She scrunched up her face. “That’s all I know. What else is there?”

“When a bear charges at you, it’s usually just bluffing,” he added.

“Bluffing? What’s it trying to do? Play poker?”

He let out a sharp laugh. “They bluff charge. They’ll run head first in your direction but then usually stop when they’re about ten feet away. Just stay calm and you’ll be fine.”

“A four hundred pound bear charges at me and you want me to keep calm because it’ll stop ten feet away?”

“Yes.” He paused. Maybe he should close the logic loop on this one. “If the bear keeps charging though, you’ll have to shoot it.”

“So I have to wait until it’s within ten feet of me, and see if it keeps going, before I can shoot it?”

“Well, yes. To comply with the rules of the Park. You have to be certain you’re being attacked. Besides, like I said, if we do kill a bear we have to fire the flare so we can immediately give the carcass to the park rangers.” Given her scrunched up face, she didn’t seem too happy about any of this. Maybe he should try to make her feel better. “On the bright side, you’ll have a much better chance hitting the target at such close range.”

“Oh, so it’s no problem then. Piece of cake.”

“Good. Then we both stand a shot of surviving.”

Ana frowned deeper. “What does that mean? If we’re both attacked by a bear, only you would definitely escape?”

“No. Quite the opposite. If you got attacked I’d have to make sure you escaped. That would leave me up against a deadly, abnormally aggressive bear. Hoping to God I don’t die.”

Ana knew she should cringe at the horrible image. And yet she felt warmed by his words. He did want to protect her. No matter what was going on with Redd’s volatile mood, it seemed a part of him did care. She found herself being very attracted to that part of him. Suddenly, being in the small tent seemed very warm indeed.

“I think we’d better get some sleep,” he said. “We’ve had a heck of a day. I doubt tomorrow will be any less eventful.”

“Sure, let’s sleep.” Ana turned the camcorder off and slid into her mummy-like sleeping bag. “I feel like King Tut.”

“Don’t worry. This is a tent, not a tomb.”

Ana cringed. How was she supposed to go to sleep with a funeral image in her mind?

Despite being bone tired, Redd decided to go outside the tent for a little while. Long enough for her to be asleep when he finally did crawl back in to take his place next to her. Not because he didn’t want to talk to her, but because he did. The best way not to open up to a woman was not to be around one. Otherwise, who knew what would come blubbering out of his mouth? Who wanted to hear a sob story about a dead sister? And even if Ana did want to hear it, he didn’t want to talk about it. Ana was a dialogue vacuum, sucking all the conversation out of him. Like a Hoover, Ana had her own powerful force. Something about her seemed as determined as all get-out. Instead of joining Teleworld, she should have joined the Marines. Ana would have the terrorists talking in no time.

Redd caught himself almost smiling at that thought. Almost. God knew he wasn’t a ha-ha chuckle kind of guy. But the thought of Special Ops Ana was pretty amusing. The handcuffed, snarling enemy in a windowless room, ready to attack. Until Ana walked in, her big, sincere doe eyes looking at him in a “tell me about it” kind of way. The enemy then turning to putty in her hands. Spilling his guts. And then pledging allegiance to the United States of America. Yes, terrorists would be toast around her. He could only hope he wouldn’t suffer the same fate. So far, his resolve to keep her shut out was failing big time.

He stood outside the tent so long he stopped noticing the temperature drop. The fire long since gone. Deciding not to take any chances, he carefully poured dirt over the remains. This was the longest he could stall—it was time to go to sleep.

He crawled into his sleeping bag as stealthily as he could. Years of training had him gliding into the bag with relative ease. In his entire career, the enemy had never spotted his clandestine movements and Ana was certainly no match—

“Redd?” Ana called out, and then turned herself around in her tightly fit cocoon. At least he thought she turned around. His ears had to substitute for his eyes. The tent itself was dark, despite there being dim sunlight outside.

After Redd’s surprise at waking her, a shot of annoyance flashed through his mind. “I thought you were asleep,” he barked.
Geez, calm down. It’s not her fault I’ve lost my stealthy touch.
“Go back to sleep,” he said more gently.

“I wish I could, but my bed is thousands of miles away in Brooklyn.”

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