Chapter Seventeen

As Colleen pulled into the paved lot of Brookman Park, in front of the sign was a familiar blue Subaru, and stretched out atop the hood soaking up the sun was a familiar raven-haired hottie. She pulled into the space beside Bijal and turned off her car. “You’re early.”

Bijal’s face lit up. “I factored in extra time, in case I got lost, my car broke down, or cannibals waylaid me.” She looked perfectly yummy in well-fitting jeans, an open red-flannel shirt over a contour-hugging tank top, and a pair of dark Ray-Bans.

“How fortunate that none of those things happened,” Colleen said, getting out of her car and going around to the passenger side to let out her visibly ecstatic dog.

“Well, the first two didn’t, anyway,” Bijal replied, sliding off her hood and landing soundly on her feet.

“Damned cannibals and their rock music.”

Callisto burst out of the car like a cannonball and began dancing around them, no doubt in an effort to speed them up.

“She seems excited,” Bijal noted.

Colleen pulled out both a small backpack and a larger one that acted as a picnic basket and set them on the ground as she secured the car. “She can’t help herself. Sniffing the poo of woodland creatures is one of Callisto’s favorite things in the world.”

“Who can blame her? Wow, you brought a lot of stuff. How long are we staying?”

“About four days. Can you help me with the tent?” Colleen asked. Bijal stared back at her with concern. “Just kidding. I figured we’d probably only be a few hours.”

“All this for a few hours?”

“There’s lunch, drinks, and assorted basic supplies.”

“Ooh, like provisions?” Bijal picked up the small backpack and hefted it to gauge the weight. She was sexy and cute at the same time.

“I guess so. Though today we won’t be panning for gold dust or bartering at the old trading post. Are you good carrying that?”

Bijal slid the bag over her shoulder enthusiastically. “Done.”

Colleen switched out her regular glasses for her prescription shades and grabbed the larger pack. “Then let’s go.”

Callisto barked eagerly, and they set off toward the woods.

“So when’s the last time you went on a hike?” Colleen asked.

“Um, on prom night I spent the evening out in the woods with a bunch of my friends, drinking two-dollar wine. Does that count?”

“I don’t think just being in the woods is sufficient, no. Though being drunk certainly adds to the degree of difficulty.”

“Oh, then never.”

Colleen chuckled. “Not the outdoorsy type?”

“It’s not that I don’t enjoy the outdoors. It’s just that the outdoors tends to be…dirty.”

“So you’re saying you’re a big priss.”

“I wouldn’t say priss. I’m more of a—”

“Candy-ass?”

“ Exactly. ” They reached a wooden sign with a map of the different trails on it. “Which one are we taking?”

Colleen realized that Bijal really had no idea what she was getting herself into. “My favorite is the yellow trail, though it may be a little long and steep if this is your first hike.”

“My first sober hike, thank you. And let’s go ahead and take yellow. I’m not some fragile pressed flower who can’t walk up a hill.”

“The view from the top is really spectacular, and it’ll make a nice place to stop and eat.”

“Then bring it on.”

“Holy shit! How much higher is this fucking mountain?” Bijal stopped, bent at the waist, and put her hands on her thighs as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Do you want to take a break?”

“Well, are we…are we close to the top?”

Colleen looked around as though to get her bearings. “We’re over halfway there.”

“You’re joking, right? It’s right behind that ridge, isn’t it?”

“No, to both,” Colleen replied, walking the few steps back to meet Bijal. “We probably should have taken either the blue or the green trail.”

“But yellow sounded like such a…pussy kind of trail. I mean, it’s the color of urine…and cowardly gunfighters.”

Colleen reached into her pack and produced a bottle of water, which she handed to Bijal. “It’s also the color of your gallbladder, which is usually the first organ to fail due to high elevation and extended exertion.”

Bijal unscrewed the cap and took a sip. “Christ! Really?”

“No, I made that up. But I love how deliciously gullible you are. It promises hours of amusement.”

“Can I blame that on the lack of oxygen?”

“You can certainly try,” Colleen said with a grin. “How about this? There’s a clearing not too far from here. Let’s stop and eat there, okay?”

Bijal was still huffing, but managed to stay upright long enough to drink some more water. “If you’re sure you want to stop,” she replied, trying to act as though she was actually capable of anything but stopping.

“Unless you’d rather wait until you spit up blood.”

“That’d only be on the red trail, right?”

“Precisely. You’re picking this hiking stuff right up.”

“Possibly, though at this point, it could just be altitude sickness.”

“You know we’re probably not more than seven hundred feet up, right?”

That sounded pretty low to Bijal. “And you start to feel effects at how high?”

“About eight thousand feet.”

“So this is just more of my candy-assedness?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“That’s incredibly humiliating.”

“Come on,” Colleen said, taking Bijal’s hand and tugging her slowly into motion, though thankfully not straight up the mountain this time—off to the right. “It’s not too far.”

Callisto trotted back to them to survey what the delay was, then snorted in obvious disapproval as she fell in behind them.

“You know,” Bijal said as Colleen pulled her along, “I had no idea how out of shape I am. I’ve obviously been spending too much time sitting at my desk and eating manicotti.”

“If it’s any consolation, that manicotti seems to be settling in all the right places.”

If Bijal hadn’t already been sweating so profusely, she might have blushed at the compliment. “Thanks. I’ll try to look attractive while I’m on the ground gasping and weeping.”

Colleen looked back over her shoulder, her amusement apparent. “Fortunately for you, that’s just how I like my women.”

“Then you’re in for a real treat if we keep walking much longer.”

“We’re almost there, I promise. It’s just beyond these trees.”

Bijal continued to allow Colleen to guide her as she focused on where she was stepping. The last thing she needed to do was stumble and twist her ankle. Then it would be like every romance novel she’d ever read, except that neither of them was a double agent, a lonely cattle rancher, or a time traveler trapped in a prehistoric dinosaur land. Wait, was that Land of the Lost?

Her fatigue was apparently jumbling her thoughts. How did those things get confused? She didn’t recall anyone ever having sex in that cave while a triceratops or Sleestak watched.

“Here we are,” Colleen said, as they stopped.

“Wow,” was all Bijal could wheeze. Colleen hadn’t sold this clearing short. It looked out over a valley striped with trees slowly transitioning to amazing fall foliage. It was striking, stirring, and absolutely spectacular.

Colleen took off her pack and removed a plaid blanket, which she unfolded and set on the grass. “Sit down, Bijal. Drink some more water and unwind.”

“Thanks. You know this place pretty well, huh?”

“Well, I used to do a lot more hiking than I do now,” Colleen replied as she knelt and started unpacking lunch. “Lisa was very athletic, so I got pretty familiar with the local parks, lakes, and golf courses. Of course, now that I work in Washington there’s a lot less opportunity to do sporty things.”

It seemed terribly sad to Bijal that for the last several years Colleen and her dog had been wandering around the scrub and prairie lands—or whatever the hell Virginia had—like forlorn nomads. Trapped in the past, Colleen now found herself leaping from life to life, putting things right that once went wrong, and hoping each time that her next leap would be the leap home.

Shit, she was doing it again. That was from Quantum Leap.

“Are you all right now?”

“Maybe not all, but I’m mostly right. I just need to stop panting like an obscene phone caller and hope my calves quit bunching up.”

“This is where a less-sensitive person would tell you that pain is just a reminder that you’re alive.” Colleen called Callisto over and set down a canvas water bowl for her before giving her a large bone that she removed from a baggie. “Here you go, girl.” The dog eagerly took the treat and settled down to give it her full attention.

“Incidentally, the average person in agony is not above limping over to the less-sensitive person and punching her right in the crotch. Just to, you know, remind her she’s alive.” Bijal reclined on the blanket and stared up at the sky.

“Wow, good thing you’re completely incapacitated.”

“And probably couldn’t stand right now if I had to.”

“You might feel better faster if you had something to eat. Interested in lunch?”

“Sounds good. What’s on the menu?”

“General Tso’s Chicken and Polish sausage.”

Bijal jerked her head up quickly. “Um…”

“Just kidding. I packed sandwiches and fruit salad. Would you prefer roast beef or ham and cheese? Oh, and I also brought peanut butter, in case you weren’t feeling particularly carnivorous,” Colleen said, holding them all up.

“I’ll take the ham, if that’s okay.”

“Absolutely.” Colleen found the correct sandwich and extended it to Bijal.

Bijal grimaced as she struggled to sit back up. In resignation, she relaxed her muscles again. “Can you just set it on my body somewhere? I’ll get it in a minute.”

“I’ve broken you, haven’t I?”

“I’m not broken,” Bijal replied weakly, “just recharging.”

“Like a solar cell?”

“A wheezing, sticky solar cell, yes.”

Colleen poured some of her bottled water over a handkerchief, then wrung it out. “Close your eyes, Bijal.”

She followed instructions as Colleen wiped the damp fabric along her cheeks and forehead. “Mmm, that feels nice.”

Before she could process any other random television flashbacks, Colleen’s lips lightly brushed hers. When the kiss ended, Bijal opened her eyes and was undone by Colleen’s blatantly amorous expression.

“Sorry,” Colleen said, her tone husky. “I couldn’t help myself. You’re very alluring when you’re all sweaty and wounded.”

“Then stick around, ’cause I have lots of those kinds of moments.” They kissed again, and for the first time in nearly an hour, Bijal completely forgot about her burning muscles and unqualified exhaustion. Instead, the amazing way Colleen’s mouth moved against hers was thoroughly monopolizing her mental faculties, and her stomach lurched at the contact. Colleen pulled back again, and Bijal’s lust-tinted gaze vacillated from the hunger in Colleen’s eyes, to her full and wondrous lips, and back again. “If I were to get really wounded—like, if I needed stitches or something, what might that get me?”

“A trip to the emergency room,” Colleen replied, still only inches away.

“That’s it?”

“And maybe I’d take off my shirt while I applied pressure to the wound.”

“If you’re trying to slow my heart rate, you’re failing spectacularly.”

Colleen gave another smoldering look. “Sorry.”

“You’re so forgiven.”

“You should eat.”

“You read my mind,” Bijal purred, rising to meet Colleen’s mouth with her own again.

Colleen softly placed her hand against Bijal’s collarbone and forced her back down. “I actually meant food.”

“Oh, damn.”

“Apparently we’ve found a cure for your low energy.” Colleen backed away and picked the sandwich up and again offered it to Bijal.

Bijal sat up gingerly and took the ham and cheese sandwich out of the baggie. “That may cure a number of ailments. I’m looking forward to doing the research.”

“Sadly, that’s the part we’re supposed to be waiting on, remember?”

“Then you’d better start keeping your lips to yourself, sugar.”

Colleen chewed a bit of her roast beef and swallowed. “I’ll do my best, but you’ll need to stop looking so tempting.”

Bijal had another rush of adrenaline. “So maybe what we need is a little bland conversation.”

“You start.”

“Tell me about this trip you have next week.”

“It’s a standard congressional delegation, what we call a CODEL. As a member of the House Armed Services Committee, periodically it’s in my best interest to travel where our armed forces are. I’ll only be there for a few days.”

“I’m surprised that you’re going in the middle of your campaign.”

“My main job is being a congresswoman, not a campaigner. And between you and me, I hate campaigning.”

“That’s understandable,” Bijal said.

“I mean, it’s just such bullshit—running around shaking hands and kissing babies.”

“You could always change it up and kiss hands and shake babies.”

“And having to run every two years makes it pretty difficult to stay focused on Washington and the tasks at hand.”

“Some might argue that an election every two years forces you to get back in your district and interface with your constituents.”

Colleen smiled wryly. “Yeah, well, giving speeches and eating barbecue at a truck stop doesn’t really impact the people in my district the way what I do on their behalf does.”

“That might depend on the barbecue.”

“I’d like to think that the best things I can do to encourage people to vote for me are to consistently do what’s best for them and to not be a douchebag.”

“Whoa, slow down there, Colleen. You’re talking like some kind of crazy radical.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. Why actually make an effort and accomplish things when you can just sit on your ass and then lie at election time and say that you accomplished things?”

“You may have me confused with a career politician. I’m less of a lazy lump and more of a shit-stirrer.”

Bijal nodded as she took another sip of water. “I have noticed that.”

“In fact, if you want to tune in to Tank Guzman tomorrow night, I’ll be back on, stirring my next shit bucket.”

“More evisceration of the anti-gay-adoption crowd?”

“No, tomorrow it’s all about the Saturday Amendment.”

“Really?” Bijal knew the Democrats were pressuring Colleen, and no doubt several other progressives in the House, to pass the bill with the amendment included. But to break so publicly with her party so close to Election Day was a pretty ballsy move. “You’re going on TV to oppose it?”

“Yup.”

“What changed your mind?”

“I didn’t necessarily change my mind about anything,” Colleen replied. “I just decided that I feel very strongly about this. It’s one reason I ran for Congress to begin with, and I refuse to let anyone try to intimidate me to vote against my conscience.”

“Even if the intimidators are your own party leaders?”

“ Especially if that’s who they are. I don’t need their campaign support. So I’m just going to put what’s really going on out there for public consumption. It’ll either resonate with people who are pro-choice, or it won’t matter enough to stop it. Either way, I won’t be happy if I don’t at least find out. If it costs me my seat in the House, so be it.”

Bijal studied Colleen for a moment. “Chicks with convictions are hot.”

“Hmm, so how’s your sandwich?”

“It may be the best ham-and-cheese I’ve ever had.”

Colleen scoffed. “It’s okay to be candid. I’ll lead you back down the mountain whether you like it or not.”

“Trust me,” Bijal said. “Candor isn’t a problem for me.”

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