Gideon laughed. "I guess I might have been a little jumpy."
"Yes, maybe just a little. I didn’t know whether you were going to stab me with that twig or hit me with that horrible fish."
Gideon laughed again, beginning to thaw out. "I thought you weren’t supposed to light a stove in a tent."
"You’re not, but you can get away with it if you’re careful."
"And if you’re the chief ranger."
"That too." Julie spooned the steaming stew into a couple of plastic bowls and handed one to Gideon. She was as hungry as he, and for a few minutes they sat cross-legged on the floor of the tent without speaking, energetically cramming the hot vegetables and beef into their mouths.
When the heat began to flow through him, Gideon sighed luxuriously and slowed down, looking up from his bowl to watch Julie eat. She was wonderfully healthy and happy, her skin golden and rosy, her eyes sparkling. She caught him looking at her with her mouth full, and she waved the big spoon happily at him. She laughed while she chewed, without opening her lips. In a baggy, shapeless sweater, with her cheeks stuffed like a chipmunk’s and her damp hair pasted flat to her forehead, she looked so heartbreakingly beautiful he could hardly swallow.
"I love you, Julie," he said.
Finally.
Her mouth was too filled for her to speak. She frowned, chewing harder, and swallowed prodigiously, then washed the food all the way down with some hot tea.
"I heard you the first time," she said, smiling.
"The first time?"
"In the sleeping bag. You were speaking to the back of my neck at the time, but I assume you meant the rest of me, too."
"You heard me? I thought you were asleep."
"I was, but there are certain things you don’t miss even in your sleep."
"But why didn’t you say anything?"
"Well, it wasn’t exactly the sort of thing to sweep me off my feet. ‘I love you, I think.’" She laughed and shook her head.
Gideon laughed too and spooned a chunk of potato into his mouth. "It does lack somewhat for lyrical expression, doesn’t it? But," he said more soberly, "there aren’t any qualifications this time."
"Are you sure? It’s not just my beef stew and my tent? You’re not just glad to have a warm female to take care of you on a cold, wet night?"
He shook his head. "No qualifications. I love you, Julie Tendler. And that’s something I don’t say very often, believe me." Not once out loud in three years.
"’I love you, Julie Tendler’?" she said. "Why would you say that very-?"
"Shush, you." He leaned over to kiss her softly. They moved apart and looked at each other, then kissed again, longer this time but no less gently. Her fingers rested on his cheek, radiating shivery tendrils; his hand cupped the warm, downy nape of her neck. When they paused at last to breathe, he brushed the tip of her nose with his lips. "Now," he said, "what was that about taking care of me on a cold night?"
"Men," she said. "It’s one thing after another. Get them dry and they want food. Get them fed and they want…well, something else."
"Precisely," said Gideon. "Maslow’s concept of human needs as a hierarchy of prepotencies. Very succinctly expressed."
"Is that what I said?"
"Yup."
"What does it mean?"
"It means let’s go to bed."
She laughed. "Don’t overwhelm me. I can stand only so much lyrical expression in one night. Let’s clean up the dinner things first."
They did it quickly, scraping the pots and dishes and putting them outside to rinse in the rain.
"I think," she said, looking out into the pouring near-darkness, "that we’d better bring your sleeping bag inside."
"It’s already wet. Doesn’t matter. It was a $12.95 special ten years ago. Made of genuine, reconstituted Kleenex."
She closed the tent flap and crawled back on her knees. "Some anthropologist. El cheapo sleeping bag, five-and-dime tent, sardines for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Are you ever lucky I came along and found you!"
He smiled. Then his brow furrowed. "Julie, what the heck are you doing here?"
She began to undo the ties on the sleeping bag. "Coming after you. I had visions of you sitting wet and cold and hungry in the dark…absurd as it may seem. My nurturing instincts were aroused. I even thought you might get lost. It’s a rough trail. Did you get lost? You haven’t gotten very far."
"Of course not," he said disdainfully. "All you have to do is follow the path. Did you get lost?"
"Uh-uh," she said with transparent honesty, unrolling the bag.
"And so you lugged all this stuff on your back, hiked all this way…"
"For you," she said simply, with a soft, quiet smile. "I love you too, you know."
The muscles in Gideon’s throat tightened. Once again she had made his tears come close to spilling over. "But how," he said gruffly, "did you know where I was?"
"I saw the envelope on John’s door. I recognized your handwriting and I opened it up."
"You opened my letter to John?"
"Don’t look so shocked. I knew you were going to do something like this, and I thought that’s what the letter was about. So of course I opened it. Wouldn’t you have done the same thing if you thought I was out here alone?"
"You better believe it," he said, "but I thought getting anywhere near the Yahi was the last thing you wanted to do."
"I changed my mind. Woman’s privilege." She patted the bag into place and sat back. Her expression became serious. "Do you…do you think they’re near here?"
Gideon smiled at her. He loved her when she was an efficient, capable park ranger, and he loved her-maybe even a little more-when she seemed a frightened little girl with big black eyes. "No, I think they’re miles away, and I don’t imagine they’d be out wandering around on a night like this."
"But what about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow, Julie, you’re going back to Quinault."
"The heck I am! If you think I came all the way out here for nothing-"
"Nothing? You’ve brought me sustenance, physical and spiritual, you’ve-"
"Damn you, Gideon, don’t talk to me like a child!" Her cheeks flushed a dull red, and he could see she regretted saying it, but she remained silent.
"Julie, tomorrow-"
"Let’s talk about tomorrow tomorrow," she said.
"Fine," Gideon said. They were both testy now. "I’m tired. Let’s call it a day."
There wasn’t room enough to stand in the tent, and with the sleeping bag and gear in a corner, there was hardly any floor space. They sat back to back on the sleeping bag and undressed themselves.
"You get in the bag first," Julie said, not turning around.
Gideon scrambled in and squeezed over, leaving her ample room. He lay on his side looking at her smooth, naked back, waiting for her to make a peace offering.
"Close your eyes while I get in," she said flatly.
"Why?"
"I don’t know. Because I feel bashful."
"Why would you feel bashful?" An inane remark but a good question. Why did he feel bashful?
"Just close them, please."
He shrugged, although she couldn’t see him. "Fine," he said, unhappy with the tiny, silly tension. He could see from the mopey way she moved that she was sorry too.
He watched her, of course, through his eyelashes, as she crouched on her knees to loosen the top flap of the sleeping bag. It was not quite dark, and her smooth thighs were dusky and gleaming. She bent forward to throw the cover back, and her small, perfect breasts swayed gently, pointed and exquisite, only a few inches from his face.
"You’re peeking, aren’t you?" she said, looking hard at him. He could tell she was searching for a way to make friends again, as was he.
"I can’t help it," he said honestly. "You look…I can’t tell you how beautiful you look, leaning over like that, your breasts pendant-"