Page 52 of Under the Northern Lights
“And half of your thighs,” he agreed with a nod. “I suppose that’s because they’re sized for men.”
She glanced up. “All those pairs of boots up at the lodge, and none of them are made specifically for women?”
“Uh . . . no,” he answered.
“But you have women come here to fish too?”
He shrugged. “We do. Not as often, but there have been women who have gone out on the fishing boats. Most of them bring their own boots.”
“Gage, your family might think about having better boot options for the women who come here. Even if it’s not as often as men come to your retreat for a fishing getaway.”
He nodded in agreement. “You’re probably right. Do you want to change into your own boots or?—”
“Have you carry me?” she cut in with a grin. “I do believe that was my other option if these didn’t work out.”
He threw his head back with a husky chuckle. “Aurora Daniels, you are truly a breath of fresh air.”
“I wasn’t being serious about your carrying me to the lodge,” Aurora said with a giggle from beneath the drooping hood of her raincoat as the water poured down around them.
“Looks like you’re not as good at the guessing game as you think you are,” Gage said as he moved hurriedly along the trail, Aurora held securely in his arms.
“Gage, it’s raining harder. You’re going to slip. Put me down. I can walk the rest of the way.”
“Me fall? Ha!” he scoffed. “I’m as sure-footed as a mountain goat. Besides, the lodge’s front porch is in view.”
The words were no sooner out of his mouth than the toe of Gage’s boot caught a root protruding from the rain-washed earth.
Aurora shrieked, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as he struggled for balance.
There was no stopping it. His hurried pace when his boot slipped on the slick ground left him struggling to remain upright. The effort was futile. Though Gage managed to turn them so he landed on the ground backside first, skidding across the wet trail. Mud and water sprayed everywhere.
“Hold on,” he told Aurora, who had ended up seated safely on his lap.
When they came to a stop, Aurora lifted her head from where she’d buried it against his neck. “Gage,” she said worriedly. “Are you okay?”
“Other than being completely and utterly embarrassed,” he replied, his own hood having fallen off his head when he went down. Rain ran down his hair and face, even finding its way inside his jacket. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“I’m fine,” she assured him.
He looked her over and groaned. “But you’re a muddy mess.”
“Seems to be my thing in Alaska,” she said with a grin as rain ran down her face too. “I hate to break it to you, but you fared no better.”
Of that, he had no doubt. Gage felt awful. He’d acted on a momentary lapse of judgment because it had felt like a good idea at the time. He’d wanted to make Aurora laugh, and he had. And now they sat, wallowing together in the mud.
The lodge’s main entrance door flew open, and his entire family spilled out onto the porch, looking around.
“I know I heard a scream,” Julia said worriedly.
“Aurora?” his mother called out.
“We’re over here,” Aurora replied as she and Gage scrambled to their feet.
Gage’s mother squinted to see them through the coursing rain. “Is Gage with you?”
“I am,” he answered with a frown. Reed was going to have a field day with this.
They started toward the porch. Gage wrapped an arm around Aurora’s waist as she struggled to move in the too-high boots he’d brought her to wear, which was why he’d been carrying her in the first place.
