Jen's Legacy.

They walked slowly and steadily for about an hour, seeing the snow cover on the farthest peaks, tens of miles away, noticeably creeping back up the slope as the sky cleared and the day warmed up.

It did not take him long to make another decision for her. She was walking gingerly, limping, favoring one foot over the other, but not so badly yet. She was helped by that staff he’d cut for her, but she needed help to stave off worse problems. They should have stayed for another day.

“Claire. Stop. I am going to carry you, but we’ll rest first while I look at your feet.”

She was in disbelief. “You cannot carry me, Royce. Not me, and your pack too.”

She sat down for him as he took her sneakers off her, and then slowly peeled her socks off. The band-aids were still doing their job so he wouldn’t disturb them. He could not see any worsening problem; no burst blisters and no blood, just the tenderness he had expected, but he had to make sure it stayed that way and did not get any worse.

He smiled up at her and reassured her. “We don’t have that far to go. I can easily carry you. My pack is light enough; barely twenty pounds now and that is mostly water and my rope. You will ride on my shoulders as we boys used to do at school when we played horse and rider on the lawns; sometimes even on the hard playground as we tried to drag each other off.”

She would not argue with him.

“It’s mostly a gentle downhill walk from here to Badger, and easier still to walk to Marsden tomorrow after that, but we should take care of your feet today and tomorrow, and not overdo it.”

She watched as he shrugged out of his pack and arranged the rope on top of it, coiling it to give her some support, though she would still need to sit forward on his shoulders for balance.

He explained more.

“That second stretch to Marsden, is through a wooded section of ground at a lower elevation and is mostly flat, with a good trail through it. You will be walking on evergreen needles from the pines, so if we take it easy today you will be able to do that easily tomorrow. Our main need is for food now, but from what I remember, there is an emergency cache of food at each of those rafting stops; canned goods, in case the weather turns against the rafters and strands them for a couple of days.” She’d told him the same thing.

“If I can spare you from making your blisters worse today, you will be recovered much better by tomorrow.”

She accepted what he told her and paused as he finished tying up her sneakers, leaving his hands on her legs, and leaving her wondering how she would get onto his shoulders.

“I’ll get you to step up onto that rock there.” He pointed. “I’ll back into it and you can come forward onto my shoulders and hold onto my forehead at first to get your balance, and then we’ll go.”

He began to feel warm in another way, thinking of her on his shoulders with her legs apart around him; him holding her by her legs, conscious of how lightly she was dressed, with little between her body and his neck. He wondered if he would be able to sense any of that greater warmth from her in that place between her legs that he could not stop thinking about, and if he would feel any dampness from her there on his neck, and would she become as excited as he would be, with her body rubbing closely against his neck. He had to banish those thoughts, or he’d never be able to function and get them both down to the river.

He spoke, striving to submerge those warm thoughts about her so soon after leaving that magical place where they had first made proper love.

“It’s mostly just a steady slope down to Badger’s Crossing from here. If you look a mile or so across this small valley ahead of us, you can just see where the woods begin. Once we’re in there, tomorrow, we’ll have plenty of fuel for a fire, and it will be easy to make a lean-too shelter if the weather turns bad on us, which it could.”

He looked at the heavier clouds moving in from the southwest. The good weather might not last for long. So much for any rescue helicopters being used if the weather closed in again. He’d better not tell her that, but there would be a ground search started from several points along the river, regardless of the weather.

They would spend the night down there by the river, or not far from it as she rested up and as her feet dried out and hardened more. They could also make love again. It seemed to be all he could think about; making love to her.

If there was no food left by those parties that had just gone through, he would fish and catch enough for a day or two, or they could even wait there for a rescue party if the weather held off.

He led her over to a nearby rock and they sat together as he offered her water and some peanuts that he’d almost forgotten about. He watched as she tilted the bottle and drank from it as a breast poked beyond the insecure confines of her shirt, inviting him to touch it. He moved closer beside her, and did, resting his head on her shoulder as she continued to drink as she tilted the bottle with one hand, and held his hand, full on her breast, with the other.

They sat like that, kissed and rested, making up their minds what to do.

She felt his hands trembling, seeing the flushed look on his face. She noticed other things about him too, understanding the precarious mood he was in. This must be how honeymooners felt, never getting enough of each other. And this was an impromptu honeymoon for them both. They should have locked themselves in a hotel room for a week, except this was better.

He touched her elbow, tentatively, enquiring, hoping she would not feel overwhelmed by him being too obvious with her. He was too obvious but he couldn’t help it.

She knew how he felt. “Royce?”

He looked up at her and smiled. “Yes, my love.” She would never tire of hearing him call her that.

“Before we go on…” she blushed.

He felt breathless, seeing that knowing look on her face. She had read his mind and was taking pity on him, rescuing him.

She put her hand on his leg.

“I think you want to… again. I would like you to… we could…” She stumbled over the words, blushing to raise such a delicate subject, though surely the time for holding back with him was long gone.

“We could… make love again… if you want to…?” She knew he did, and knew that he would know what she was having difficulty saying for the absolute last time.

Soon they would not need to say anything at all, but she would just touch him gently on his hand or his arm, or would look at him and smile, or more likely, blush at him or raise an eyebrow, or suggestively move her legs apart if she were sitting down, even just a little as she looked at him, and he would know.

They were still in the early days of learning about each other, and he was afraid of becoming too much for her with his manic eagerness, and concern about hurting her if he was too aggressive.

He should never be afraid of wanting her. This was all new to her too, and she had never felt so excited as she did with him all of the time, at the way he so obviously wanted her all of the time.