Red Paws Inn Read online

  Credits

  Thank you to my beta readers. Brisa, Charlie, Lindsay, Lori, Martha, and Stephanie. They continue to work tirelessly to help get better books for all of us.

  And thank you as well to all of you, without whom I couldn’t keep writing.

  Running the Inn

  I watched Henry chasing Flapper around the yard in front of the lodge. What had started out as a game of fetch with me had turned into a game of keep away between the dogs, with Flapper winning as usual. Finally, the two golden retrievers ran straight to me, Flapper dropping the well-loved tennis ball at my feet. Well-loved, of course, is a euphemism for "extremely slimy". Henry spun around several times as I picked the ball up, but Flapper waited patiently. I gave the ball a good throw and watched the two dogs chase after it.

  It was late Thursday afternoon on a pleasant June day at the Red Paws Inn. I was taking a break with the dogs before it was time to talk with Jenna, who managed our aquatics and outfitting business. I threw the ball two more times before heading to the boathouse to find Jenna.

  The Red Paws Inn was more than an inn. We were located on Left Bend Lake, right on the edge of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area in Minnesota, a thirty-minute drive from Grand Marais. Our facilities consisted of the inn itself, eight more guest cabins, the boathouse, a riding stables, plus lots of trails, water, and nature's natural beauty. The inn had belonged to my grandparents. Grandpa Ed had died sixteen years ago. Grandma Chandra left us only two years ago, and I missed her terribly. As her closest relative, I'd inherited the inn.

  The boathouse was our most modern building at only twenty years old. The inn was built in 1961, and some of the cabins were even older. All had a rustic appearance, undergoing little change since they were originally built.

  The large main door of the boathouse was open, and I stepped inside to find Jenna going over the gear for a group due to arrive tonight. They were staying in a cabin and heading out tomorrow. We supported a variety of outfitting packages. We covered everything from full guided tours for groups with virtually no experience and equipment to little more than a place to park a car and take a hot shower before driving home at the end of a long trip. The group tonight was taking a full outfitting package but no guide.

  Jenna and the outfitting business were why Red Paws was remotely profitable.

  Jenna didn't look up until Flapper and Henry ran up to offer doggy greetings. "Hey, Flapper, Henry," she said, giving each dog a quick pat. "Go lie down."

  The two dogs panted at her, then turned around and settled down on their rugs located in a corner of the room. They were good dogs.

  "How are you doing, Jenna?" I asked her. "Need any help?"

  "I'm good, Janis," she replied. "But we should go over the bookings."

  "How are they?"

  "Really good. Up from last year."

  I already knew that. Bookings came through the computer system, and I stayed on top of that like there was no tomorrow. We smiled at each other. Jenna knew that I knew exactly how we were doing.

  "Getting your boyfriend to run guided nature tours was a brilliant idea," I commented. Jenna's boyfriend, Ted, was a science teacher in Grand Marais. He came across as very bookish, but he was in Grand Marais to be close to his true passion, the flora and fauna of northern Minnesota. He and Jenna were madly in love, and I understood why. I'd seen him with his shirt off once and even I got hot looking at him. And I don't normally swing that way.

  Not that I'd had much chance to swing either way since Grams had died and I'd permanently relocated to the frozen tundra. All for the better, anyway. Let's just say, I had been ready for a move out of St. Paul.

  Still, I missed Grams.

  Jenna and I both sighed wistfully for a moment, then laughed at each other. I helped Jenna buckle up the last two Duluth packs for tomorrow's group, then we climbed the stairs to her office slash apartment comprising what otherwise would have been the attic of the boathouse. The dogs followed us.

  "Care for a beer?" Jenna asked me. I nodded, and she went to the refrigerator, pulling out two cans of Stroh's. She retrieved a pair of rawhides from the supply on top of the refrigerator and tossed them to the dogs. Flapper grabbed hers, then dropped it and stole Henry's. Henry took Flapper's, and the two of them settled down in the middle of Jenna's living room, facing away from each other but somehow managing to keep at least one eye each on Jenna and me.

  Jenna handed me my beer, opened hers, took a long guzzle from it, then set it down before grabbing her laptop. I took an appreciative gulp from my own beer. The two of us hunched over Jenna's laptop.

  "The group tomorrow morning is six people," Jenna said. "Full outfitting."

  "They're arriving tonight, so they'll be ready to leave right away in the morning."

  She nodded.

  "There's a second group arriving tomorrow," she said. "Two basic canoe packages. They asked about fishing, so I suggested the Northside loop." Northside was a lake two portages away. It didn't have the best fishing, but several of the other lakes on the loop were usually good in June.

  "Good suggestion," I told her.

  "After that, we don't have any groups until next week," she said. "Ted is running a nature tour leaving next Thursday. And I'm taking a solo woman also on Thursday."

  "Solo?"

  Jenna nodded. "She insisted. She asked if we could provide a guided tour by a woman and she doesn't want anyone else along. She's paying extra."

  I frowned at that. I would have been downright alarmed if it had been a man making that request.

  "She was here three years ago," Jenna said. "She and another woman. They stayed in the lodge one night and then did a basic canoe package. I don't remember them, but they're in the computer. This time she's asked for a full outfitter package."

  "Breakup," I said.

  Jenna nodded. "Maybe." She shrugged. "She's bringing a dog."

  I smiled. We weren't called Red Paws for nothing. We were a dog friendly facility. We charged extra for them, as dogs provide a certain amount of wear and tear. The forest service doesn't recommend dogs in the Boundary Waters, but they aren't prohibited, and a lot of our guests bring their furry friends. I've taken Flapper and Henry a few times, although it can be challenging. They like to tip the canoe over.

  "Going to use an outrigger?" I asked Jenna.

  "I'll take a look at the dog, first," she said. "I didn't think to ask what kind. When she called, she said she wanted to do the same loop she'd done three years ago, but she didn't know what loop it was."

  "I wouldn't suppose that was in our notes."

  "No, but she had photos. It was the Lake Nestor loop."

  "Five days?" I asked. Jenna nodded. "Challenging." Jenna nodded again. A five-day, fully-outfitted guided tour was an expensive trip. I thought about the implications. I hoped it was a small dog.

  "There are two more groups arriving next Friday," Jenna said. "I'll have their gear ready, but someone else is going to have to man the shop."

  I nodded. We both knew "someone else" meant me. Grams had made sure over the years that I knew every job at the resort. I was cleaning rooms when I was seven, cleaning fish when I was nine, and led my first guided tour when I was eighteen. I could work in the kitchen, although the guests were better off when I didn't. Getting two groups out on the water next Friday would be easy. I'd also handle boat rentals and bait sales for anyone who was staying at the resort.

  Jenna spent the next few minutes reviewing the bookings through the end of June. Then she gave me an equipment update. We had already repaired or replaced everything for the season, so we were doing well. The sailboats we had bought before last season had proven to be popular, and we'd even gotten some bookings based on having them available. I told Jenna she should be proud of hav
ing made that suggestion.

  She smiled.

  Jenna was amazing. I was terrified she'd get tired of the commute to Grand Marais to see Ted. She caught my frown.

  "I told you," she said. "I'm not going anywhere. Janis, I love it here, and Ted loves that I have this job."

  "I wish I could pay you what you were worth."

  She sighed. "I have free housing. I eat most of my meals for free. I get all my recreation for free. The clients tip."

  "Not well," I interjected.

  "No. But my car is about my only expense. Janis, I'm happy here. Stop worrying. The only thing I don't like about this job are when the clients try to blame me for the weather."

  That happened far too often. They didn't really blame Jenna, but they could be awfully crabby and hard to deal with. Most of our patrons, however, were a joy to work with. They were here to have a good time, and being difficult didn't usually factor in.

  "It's you I'm really worried about," Jenna said finally.

  "Me?"

  "When's the last time you had a date?" she asked me.

  I looked away. Jenna knew exactly when. Christine and I had broken up three weeks before Grams had died. I'd been up here ever since. My choice of dates were the staff and the guests. As far as I knew, none of the staff were lesbians, and I wouldn't date an employee anyway. As for the guests...

  I'd had offers, guests looking for a little fun on their trips. I had pretended not to notice, and only a couple of women had been forward enough I'd used the excuse, "I'm just out of a relationship."

  I had never been one for one-night stands. Or ten-minute stands, like some of them had probably wanted.

  I looked Jenna in the eye. "I'm fine," I told her. I was lying, of course, and she knew it. Jenna had known me a long time. I think Grams had made Jenna promise to look out for me.

  "I know you get offers," she told me. "What was wrong with that one over Memorial Day?"

  "I don't know who you're talking about," I told her.

  "The blonde," she said. "The one who asked you to take her fishing."

  "Not my type," I said quickly. I was lying. She was exactly my type. She had reminded me of Christine. She had been almost as pushy as Christine, too. I'd almost said, "Fuck it" and taken her, um. Fishing.

  "You need to get laid," Jenna told me.

  I sighed and didn't respond. She was probably right.

  * * * *

  Friday's group arrived in three cars, the last not pulling in until midnight. Ah, the life of an innkeeper. The six AM until midnight shift.

  But I loved this place. I had so many happy memories as a child, my parents still alive, Grams and Gramps still alive.

  Once everyone was settled, the dogs and I climbed into bed. I brought a book with me and got about two pages read before falling asleep.

  * * * *

  The weekend went by in a blur. They always do. Friday morning I helped Jenna get the big group onto the water. Two of our cabins were booked with guests, one family each, and we had an elderly couple staying in a lakeside room in the lodge.

  The two families each had kids, a total of two boys and three girls, ranging in age from eight to fourteen. There were also three dogs for Flapper and Henry to play with. All five dogs hung out in the doggy play area -- a large fenced in area -- while the families engaged in some of the water activities. The swimming area was popular.

  More guests arrived on Friday, and we were fully booked. We also had some drop-in canoeists. We always let people use our landing free of charge. We didn't need to do much for them, and we had plenty of parking. Most groups left us a little money in some fashion or other, perhaps just a few dollars for a map, and being friendly didn't cost us anything.

  It only rankled a little bit when I recognized gear from an outfitter based right in Grand Marais. Jenna noticed as well, and I saw her visibly resist the urge to comment. She got even though. One of the men asked her where to find the best fishing. "I caught a great bass on Wetwood Lake," she said. She pointed to a picture of her holding a very nice bass. She didn't point out the picture was two years old.

  "You were naughty," I told her later. "I bet that was the only fish in the entire lake."

  "If they want my best fishing advice," she said, "they can pay for it."

  I high-fived her.

  * * * *

  The following Thursday morning, Jenna found me in my office. She crouched down to say "Hi" to Flapper and Henry before telling me, "We have a problem."

  "Is anyone hurt?"

  "Oh no," she said. "Nothing like that. Well, something like that. Ted is sick. Really sick."

  "Oh no," I said. "I'm sorry to hear that. How are you feeling?"

  "I'm fine," she said. "It was food poisoning. The idiot never cleans his refrigerator out. You would think a science teacher would understand the biology of old food. The thing is, there is no way he's going to be in any condition to run his nature tour."

  "Oh hell," I said.

  "I already called them," she said. "I have all his notes, and I've helped him in the past. They're willing to go with me leading instead."

  "Problem solved. Excellent."

  "Not quite," she said. "There's also Alyssa Constantine."

  "Who?"

  "The solo tour. The one that was here three years ago."

  "Oh," I said, remembering. "Five days, Nestor."

  Jenna nodded.

  "Take her with you."

  "I can't," she said. "First, she was very specific. Nestor. And she was very specific. Private. Boss, you have to take her."

  I ran tours. I'd been running them since I was eighteen. It was, frankly, my favorite part of the job. I didn't run them very often anymore, because there was already enough to do at the lodge that required my attention. Jenna knew that.

  "My mom is coming in to help," Jenna said. "Everything here will be fine. I already grabbed your travel bag. Everything is good to go. You just need to change clothes."

  I sighed. "All right. When will she be here?"

  "She's waiting for you now. She doesn't look like the type you should keep waiting."

  "Oh hell," I said again.

  "I'm really sorry, Janis," Jenna said. But she was smiling. She didn't look very sorry. I looked at her suspiciously, but I let it pass.

  "All right. I'll be down there in ten minutes," I said, getting up from my desk.

  I walked to my room. I was wearing jeans and a light, long-sleeve shirt. I would have preferred shorts, but I did enough work around the yard, and I got tired of my legs being scratched up from the brush all the time. The portages would be safe from that, so I changed into shorts, a sports bra, and a comfortable golf shirt, then donned my hiking boots. I headed for the boathouse, the dogs in tow.

  Jenna met me on the path just outside the boathouse.

  "Everything is ready to go," she said, gesturing towards the water. My personal canoe was waiting for me. It was an extremely lightweight Kevlar canoe. I saw two Duluth packs already secured as well as paddles and life jackets waiting for us. "I grabbed your personal bag and checked it," Jenna added. "You're all set."

  "My sandals?"

  "All packed. Let me introduce you to Alyssa." Jenna took my arm and began pulling me down the path to the boathouse.

  Jenna was never that forward with me. I offered another suspicious look, which she ignored, but I let her drag me along.

  The client, Alyssa Constantine, was waiting in the boathouse, looking at the large map of the immediate area we kept posted on one wall. At her feet was a yellow Labrador retriever. He was lying down quietly, watching Alyssa.

  I stopped and stared. Alyssa Constantine was gorgeous. Stunning. Beautiful. My mouth dropped open.

  "No," I told Jenna quietly. "I can't spend five nights with her."

  "You have to," Jenna said, just as quietly. "There's no one else."

  Flapper and Henry saw the other dog and immediately went into play mode, offering two quick barks and then ran to the other dog.
Alyssa's dog stayed exactly where she was, but Alyssa turned to look at the commotion and released her dog. Soon all three dogs were running around the boathouse, chasing each other.

  "Outside!" I yelled at Flapper. She immediately turned to the door, Henry in tow, the lab following both of them, and the three of them began tearing up the yard, chasing each other.

  I got another look at Alyssa Constantine. She was wearing all the right clothes, and she looked stunning in them. But her black hair was perfect, not a single strand out of place. I crossed the boathouse to shake her hand, watching her, and she turned to watch the dogs running around.

  "They'll be fine," I said. "The property is fenced. They could swim around it, but my dogs wouldn't do that."

  Alyssa turned her attention to me, and I turned my attention to her hand, still in mine. It was soft and smooth, and when I looked at it, I saw a perfect manicure. Everything about her was perfect, perfect, perfect. To top it all off, my gaydar went on high alert.

  Jenna was grinning at me.

  Alyssa caught me looking at her hands. "I'll carry my own weight," she said quietly. "You don't need to worry. But I don't even know how to set up a tent, and I've never cooked over a fire in my life."

  Jenna did proper introductions.

  "You're the owner?" she said. "I remember an old woman."

  "My grandmother," I said. "She passed."

  "I'm sorry," Alyssa said.

  "Are you sure you want the Nestor loop?" I asked her. "It's a grueling five days."

  "I remember," she replied. "Yes. It has to be the Nestor loop." She smiled, but the smile didn't go to her eyes.

  I nodded. "All right. Jenna, she needs paddling gloves. She'll have blisters before we're off Left Bend otherwise."

  "Already covered," Jenna said.

  I stepped back outside and watched the dogs playing. Alyssa's dog was holding her own. Flapper normally picked on Henry, but the two of them always ganged up when there was another dog around. Still, the three dogs were playing well.

  "What is your dog's name?" I asked. I was leery about taking a fifty-pound dog in the canoe. Tipping over isn't any fun.

  "Blues," the woman said. She said it with a straight face.