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  "Blues?"

  "She likes to dance," Alyssa explained.

  I frowned. "Does she like to dance in a canoe? Jenna, I don't want outriggers on my canoe. We need to pull out a different one."

  Jenna shook her head at me.

  "Blues will behave," Alyssa said. "She used to go canoeing a lot."

  "I already took her out," Jenna said. "She was perfect. She watched Alyssa on shore but did a perfect sit stay."

  "For hours?" I asked.

  "She won't tip us over," Alyssa said again.

  I frowned once more. "All right," I said. "Give me a minute with my employee." I didn't wait for Alyssa's response but pulled Jenna down to the water, ostensibly to check on the canoe. "What the fuck, Jenna?"

  She held her hands up. "Ted really is sick, Janis. I'm not making that up. The fact that she's stunning and gay are just a bonus for you. Don't even try telling me she's not your type."

  "She's not," I said sullenly.

  "Bullshit," Jenna said.

  The thing is, Alyssa wasn't my type. Oh sure, I liked the ones who could be femmes for a date in the city, and that was definitely Alyssa, but out in the woods, give me a butch any day.

  "You just don't want to listen to her bitching for the next five days," I said sullenly.

  Jenna grinned.

  "Besides, she's not looking for someone. She's broken," I said. "Something is wrong with her."

  Jenna's grin faded. "I was hoping I was imagining things. You have to take her, Janis."

  "I know I do," I said. "But that isn't going to stop me finding ways to blame you."

  Jenna laughed. "Have a good trip."

  I spent a couple of minutes checking out the canoe while Jenna went to talk to Alyssa. Jenna of course had everything perfect, but I still needed to check and collect my composure. Once everything was ready, I pulled the canoe over to the dock so Little Miss Perfect wouldn't need to get her feet wet getting in. I turned to call her, but Jenna was already leading her down, the three dogs following.

  "Wait," Alyssa said. "My computer is in my car. Is there somewhere I can leave it? I don't want it to roast for five days."

  "My office," I said. So we waited for Alyssa to retrieve her computer. Jenna took it from her and assured her it would be safe in my office when we got back. Jenna then helped Alyssa with her life jacket.

  "Front or back?" I asked Alyssa.

  She raised her eyebrow.

  "Of the canoe. Did you want the front or the back?"

  "I was in front the last time," she said. "Does it matter?"

  "You steer from the back," I said. "Yes, it matters."

  "I better take the front," she said. She pointed. "That end?"

  "Yes."

  I waded into the water to steady the canoe. Jenna helped Alyssa into the canoe, then came the moment I'd been waiting for. Alyssa called her dog.

  The dog was perfect. She stepped into the boat almost gracefully, far better than my dogs would have. My role steadying the boat had barely been necessary. Flapper and Henry tried to climb in as well, but Jenna called them back and ordered them into a down. They obeyed grudgingly. Alyssa ordered Blues into a sit, and she sat quietly, looking around her.

  I climbed into the back, settled into my place, and after a moment we were in motion.

  * * * *

  Left Bend Lake is not a large lake, but it's not small, either. The loop we were taking involved crossing the lake to the northwest corner and following a stream into Morris Lake. We would cross four lakes over the next day and a half before arriving at Nestor, right on the Canadian border. There were three more lakes on the way back before returning to Left Bend Lake.

  However, I didn't trust the dog. I set us on the long path, following the lakeshore. We hadn't gone very far before Alyssa turned over her shoulder. "This isn't the way we went last time. Maybe this isn't the right route."

  "Last time you went straight across the lake?" I asked pointing. She nodded. "It's three quarters of a mile across," I said. "And I don't want to be in the middle when the dog tips us over."

  Alyssa looked pointedly at the dog, who was sitting calmly.

  "And if she sees a duck?" I asked.

  "Blues won't tip us over," Alyssa said firmly.

  I took a deep breath of air. "All right," I said. "I hope I don't get to tell you, I told you so." I turned us out towards open water.

  Of Paddles and Tents

  There was only a light breeze. It was a sunny morning, still a little cool, but it would warm up. The canoe glided smoothly through the water, and Alyssa seemed to be doing her share.

  Her technique left something to be desired. She didn't feather her paddle on the upstroke, which wasn't that critical, but every little bit helps. You can actually feel the difference in the wind resistance if you feather your paddle while reaching for the next stroke, laying the blade flat to the water so it cuts through the air smoothly before dipping it back into the water. Still, she took strong strokes, and we were moving well.

  I watched the dog carefully, ready to counter balance if she did anything that was likely to tip us over. But she sat quietly in the middle of the canoe, making doggy smiles and behaving quite beautifully.

  By the time we were three quarters of the way across the lake, I started to marginally relax. I knew that the most dangerous time would be any portages that had other people or wildlife at them. But I didn't know of any groups doing this loop this weekend, so maybe we would have a very private trip.

  "What do you do for a living, Alyssa?" I asked, deciding to make conversation.

  "I'm a freelance marketing consultant," she said. I asked her questions about her job, which she answered, but it felt like she was answering as briefly as she could to remain polite. The conversation tapered off as we approached the stream leading to Morris Lake.

  "This is it," Alyssa said as we approached the stream. "It was a cloudy day, but I remember this stream."

  It wasn't much of a stream. There was virtually no current. The two lakes were basically at the same level, although the flow of water was from Morris into Left Bend. Still, it easily handled a canoe.

  We were barely into the stream before we saw our first ducks up close. Blues watched them intently but hardly moved a muscle. I waited for an explosion of activity that never came.

  After that, we paddled quietly, spending a half hour on Morris before arriving at our first portage. The lakes in the Boundary Waters are very close together, some of them connected by streams, but most of the time you had to walk between the lakes. This was called a portage. Portages varied a lot from short, flat and dry to long, steep and muddy.

  "We'll portage here," I said while we were still thirty yards from shore. "Do you have a leash for Blues?"

  "She doesn't need one," Alyssa said. "Is it required by law?"

  "Technically," I said.

  "Will you report me?" Alyssa said, looking over her shoulder at me.

  I laughed. "No."

  With that settled, I set the canoe on a course for shore, asking Alyssa to stop paddling. This, like many of the portages here, was rocky, and I didn't want my canoe scratched up more than necessary. I slowed us to a crawl when we got close, then watched as Alyssa climbed out, stepping into the water. She turned around, steadying the canoe, and she did it properly. "Blues," she said. "Come."

  The dog immediately stood up, climbed over one Duluth pack, then jumped out of the canoe, splashing through the water for a moment for a drink of water before sitting down next to Alyssa.

  "Push me back out," I said, "And I'll back in." She did, I turned the canoe around, then came back to shore, back end of the canoe first, and stepped out before the canoe could touch the rocks. I started handing things to Alyssa, who made a small pile of paddles and two Duluth packs on a dry spot of ground. I pulled the canoe up onto shore.

  Serious canoeists pride themselves on one tripping the portages. With Alyssa, I didn't even try. "Can you carry a pack?" I asked Alyssa.

&n
bsp; "Of course," she said. She selected one of the packs, and I helped her set it into place. Then she helped me settle the canoe onto my shoulders. "Blues, come," she said, setting off down the path.

  This was an easy portage, only about a hundred yards, all dry. We got to the next lake, called Bluegill. Alyssa set her pack down then turned to help me set the canoe down. I could do it myself, but it was easier with help. We looked out over the lake and saw no one else. I told Alyssa she could wait here, but she followed me back to the rest of our gear. I picked up the pack. Alyssa grabbed the paddles, and we immediately turned around.

  The portage site at Bluegill is a smooth, flat rock jutting out of the water. The water right off the portage is deep. I slid the canoe into the water, then turned it until it was parallel to shore, pulling it against the rocks. I put the packs back in, securing them into place, then Alyssa and I together held the canoe. "Blues," she said. "Get in."

  Blues stepped over to the canoe and looked at it dubiously.

  "Get in," Alyssa said again. The dog took a little bound and settled into her spot. I was impressed. Then Alyssa got in the front. I stepped into the back, and we pushed away from shore carefully.

  Alyssa still wasn't in the mood to talk. We paddled quietly.

  By the time we reached our next portage, I decided it was lunchtime. We navigated the portage, this one much longer and muddy to boot, then set up for a shore lunch. We ate quietly. I tried twice to draw Alyssa into conversation, but she answered curtly before turning her back on me. I got the hint.

  I did watch her with Blues. While she was snubbing me, she didn't snub the dog. It was clear the two were deeply bonded. Blues lay down next to Alyssa, touching her leg, but not begging for handouts. When she wasn't eating, Alyssa kept a hand on Blues coat, seeming to draw strength from the dog.

  Grams had been that way with Flapper and Henry. I loved those two dogs with my entire heart, but the bond Grams held with them was beyond this world.

  With the afternoon came afternoon winds. We had gotten an early start this morning and probably could have made the portage to Nestor today, but I didn't want to cross Beatrice Lake in the winds. It would be safer in the morning. Nevertheless, I got us going out onto Lake Yolanda. It was an hour until the portage to Beatrice, and then we could find an open campsite.

  I had stopped worrying about Blues. We'd had both ducks and loons pass very close to the canoe. She had paid intent attention to them, but she hadn't done anything startling. Instead, I relaxed in the smooth rhythm of paddling across the quiet lake, the only sounds that of the paddles dipping into the water, the wind, and the occasional bird.

  We got to the portage, and I could tell from Alyssa's body language that she was about done in. She didn't do what a lot of beginners do, which is to set her paddle across the gunwales and rest. But I detected stiffness in her shoulders, and she wasn't pulling with the strength she had shown when we first set out. As we approached the portage, I said quietly, "This is a difficult portage. We'll move onto Beatrice and find a campsite."

  She nodded, letting me know she heard me, but didn't say anything. It was going to be a long five days.

  The portage from Yolanda to Beatrice is about the worst we do on any trips out of the Red Paws Inn. It is steep, rocky, and just over a mile long. Unless I have some big, strong guys able to carry two packs or a pack and a canoe, I never one-trip it. That means we would walk a total of four miles before we were done.

  We climbed out and I described the portage to Alyssa.

  "I remember," she said.

  "We need to take as much as we can on the first trip," I said. "I want you and Blues to stay with the gear on Beatrice when I come back for the second trip, so we can't leave more here than I can carry."

  She nodded. I stashed one of the packs so it wasn't obvious to anyone who didn't look. I left my life vest on and picked up the canoe. Alyssa loaded the other pack and carried both paddles and her life vest. All that we left behind was the pack with our food and cooking gear.

  The first trip took thirty minutes, and we were both winded by the time we arrived at Lake Beatrice. Beatrice is a large lake with a variety of small bays, and we were on one of them, but we would need to cross the open water to reach our next portage. There are two approved campsites on this bay, and I hoped one of them would be available. I set the canoe down, took a deep drink of water, and asked Alyssa to wait here.

  Without a canoe to carry, the return to Yolanda was much quicker and easier. Our food pack was right where I left it. I grabbed it and immediately turned around.

  When I got back to Beatrice, Alyssa was sitting on the rocks, facing the lake while leaning against the pack. Blues was sitting next to her, pressed against Alyssa's side. Alyssa had a hand in Blues’ fur. The dog noticed my return before Alyssa did, but she stayed where she was, looking over her shoulder at me.

  I heard Alyssa say something to the dog, who immediately bounded to her feet and ran over to greet me. I lowered the pack and crouched down. Blues gave me a quick doggy kiss before running back to Alyssa's side.

  "It looks rough out there," Alyssa said.

  "Yeah," I replied. "Hopefully we don't have to canoe through it."

  We loaded up. Everyone climbed in, and we set out for my favorite of the two campsites.

  "Bonus!" I said as we approached. "It's free."

  That doesn't always happen on Beatrice. We had gotten lucky. We pulled in, emptied the canoe, and I pulled it up on shore, turning it over.

  Alyssa looked done in. She helped me to unload the canoe, but then I watched her trying to work the stress out of her shoulders, her back turned to me. Blues was roaming around the campsite, sniffing the bushes. Alyssa didn't offer to help when I carried the packs to the center of the campsite. She waited until I had pulled the tent out and began setting up, then went through the pack herself, locating the toiletries bag.

  "It's that way," I said, pointing to the path leading to the latrine. She nodded and set out, Blues running back and forth on the trail in front of her.

  The tent was set up by the time Alyssa returned. Because Blues was along, we had three ground pads and two sleeping bags, all unrolled and in the tent, with Blues' pad between mine and Alyssa's.

  Alyssa looked at the setup and said, "Is that my tent or yours?"

  "Um-" I said, surprised at the question.

  "Oh," she said, understanding. She looked away. "I was hoping for privacy."

  I stared at her for a minute. I couldn't figure out her story. She clearly wasn't here to have fun. I hadn't seen her smile except when interacting with Blues. Canoeing and camping obviously weren't her thing. Why was she here?

  But she'd asked for privacy. I'd been stunned by her appearance when we met, but my ardor had cooled considerably. I decided I would treat this as a solo trip and stop trying to talk to her.

  "No problem," I said finally. "I'll move my things out here."

  We had a spare fly. It could be used as a rain shelter over the cooking area during bad weather. I could turn it into a lean-to. It wouldn't be as comfortable as the tent, and it wouldn't keep mosquitoes out. I would have to make do. Alyssa didn't say anything but instead called to Blues and walked down to the water, leaving the rest of the camp setup to me.

  I made my little nest as far from Alyssa's tent as I could manage. It was going to be a rough four nights. Then I set up the rest of camp, getting ready to make dinner in a couple of hours.

  * * * *

  That night, I heard Alyssa murmuring to Blues in the tent. She could talk to the dog, but clearly wanted as little to do with me as she could. After a full day of her silence, I was just fine with that.

  I slathered up with mosquito repellant, wished I'd brought mosquito netting, and settled into my own sleeping bag, doing everything I could to hide from the flying vampires. There was a light breeze, and my makeshift lean-to wasn't the protection I would have preferred. I slept fitfully and woke in my sleeping bag damp from the dew.

&n
bsp; Friday should have been a nice day. The weather was nice, but I was crabby from a bad night's sleep. I pushed it away, remaining professional for my client. I couldn't decide if I should be angry at Jenna for making me do this trip, but I was definitely going to have a chat with Ted about his food storage habits.

  Alyssa let Blues out of her tent long before she poked her own nose out. Blues did the things dogs do in the morning, then came over to help prepare breakfast. By the time Alyssa exited her tent, I had a small fire going for warmth and hot water for tea or instant coffee.

  I exchanged a brief "Good morning" with Alyssa, who sat down and accepted a cup of tea while she watched me with the rest of preparations for breakfast.

  "I'm sorry," she said eventually.

  "For what?" I asked her.

  "I'm not a very good companion," she said.

  I looked over at her. "You haven't complained," I told her. "But I don't understand what you're doing here. You clearly aren't enjoying yourself."

  "There is something I need to do," she said.

  I studied her. "What?"

  She turned away, not answering. I sighed. "At least tell me it's not something that is going to require me to notify the sheriff."

  She looked back at me. "Nothing like that." Then she looked away again before she said, "Thank you for helping me."

  "You're welcome. I hope."

  She didn't say anything else. She ate her breakfast without paying any attention to it. She gave Blues a few bites. "There should be a bag with her food," she said.

  I dug through the supplies and handed the bag of dry dog food to Alyssa. She poured some onto her plate and set it out for Blues, who wagged her tail while eating.

  We finished breakfast. Alyssa didn't offer to help clean up or break camp. I got everything packed, then turned to her.

  "How stiff are you?" I asked her.

  "I'm fine," she replied.

  I wasn't sure she was, but it was her business. "We have to cross Beatrice. I don't want to chance tipping over in the middle of a lake this big, so we're going to follow the northwest shoreline. Still, we'll have a number of places we'll be quite far from shore as we cross entrances to the various coves and bays."