Page 44 of Tattered and Torn

Chapter 14 – Gabrielle

Sure enough, just as John said, the trees gradually thin out a bit, which allows us to see much farther than we could before. Outcroppings of jagged rocks jut up from the ground in all directions. In the distance, I can see much higher mountains with white, snowcapped peaks. The sky overhead is a beautiful clear blue. Large white clouds drift by overhead.

Just before eleven, we reach Pine Lake. This large, irregularly shaped body of water sits in a valley between two ridges.

We ride halfway around the lake and stop at an established camp site. Besides the spot having several picnic tables, it also offers us places to tie our horses.

“These are highlines,” John says to the group. “We’ll put three horses on this line, and the other two on that line over there.”

We each dismount and walk our horse to a rope stretched between two tall wooden poles. John demonstrates how to tie our horses’ leads to these silver swivel rings attached to the rope overhead. The horses are spaced quite a distance apart. Immediately, the horses start happily nibbling on the grass at their feet.

After the horses are secured, we gather around one of the picnic tables for lunch. John opens the supply pack and pulls out a soft-sided cooler containing water bottles.

I’m parched, so I can’t wait to drink something cold.

We all take a seat at the table as John hands out the packed lunches. Each lunch contains a sandwich, an apple, a bag of potato chips, and a brownie. I smile as I bite into my sandwich. This takes me back to my school days when my mom packed my lunch.

“I got the vegetarian sandwich,” Brittany says, wrinkling her nose. “Here this one’s for you.” She trades with Andrea.

“God, whoever thought a turkey sandwich could taste this good?” Krista asks as she polishes off the first half of her sandwich.

They’re just simple sandwiches—turkey, cheese, and mayo on whole wheat bread—but they taste divine. There’s something about being out in the great outdoors and fresh air that tends to stimulate a person’s appetite.

John and I end up seated on one side of the picnic table, opposite the other three. I take a long sip of cold water as I observe the women seated across from us. Obviously, they’re good friends. They’re very relaxed with each other, and they tend to laugh at a lot of inside jokes.

I suspect Brittany is crushing on John because Andrea and Krista keep elbowing her and smirking. I swear, it’s like being in middle school all over again.

John makes a point of sitting on my left, and I don’t think that was an accident. His hat is on, the brim pulled down a bit. I hate that he feels like he has to hide one side of his face. Despite his facial scars, he’s still a handsome man. And I find his demeanor makes him even more attractive.

Besides, I’ve always been one who roots for the underdog.

After we finish our lunch, we pack up our trash, careful to leave nothing behind, then strike out on a hike around the lake.

Up close to the water, I can see how clear it is. The sandy lake bed, littered with smooth stones is clearly visible. Every now and then I see a flash of iridescent scales as a fish darts by. Schools of smaller fish swim closer to the bank, hiding in vegetation and under fallen tree limbs submerged in the water.

I try to shut out the voices of the three women who are regaling us with stories of shopping in L.A. They’re walking ahead, followed by John. Because I’m in the rear, I notice John’s limp is more pronounced than usual. His leg must be stiff from the three-hour ride.

At about the halfway point, a fox darts out from beneath some shrubs and makes a run for it. Brittany screams, flailing her arms as she stumbles backward. She bumps into Krista, who falls back onto her butt in the shallows. Andrea laughs her head off as Krista attempts to climb to her feet, sputtering in indignation.

“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry!” Brittany tells Krista.

Krista scowls as she struggles to stand. “Sure you are.”

“Really, I am!” Brittany says. But then she starts laughing, too, undermining her attempt at an apology.

John offers Krista his hand and helps her to her feet.

“You okay?” he asks Krista.

Her jeans and sneakers are soaked. “Hardly! Do I look okay? I’m wet!”

“Did you bring a change of clothes, like I recommended?” John asks.

“No! I wasn’t planning on going swimming.” She gives her friends the stink eye, and that only makes them laugh harder.

I bite my lip to keep from joining in, but it’s hard not to because the look on Krista’s face is so comical. If looks could kill, Brittany would be a dead woman.

Brittany looks genuinely mortified. “Krista, I’m so sorry!”

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