Three
Great Ass
“It says here that Trails End is a logging town. They’re proud of their history and every year before the winter months bring little daylight, they celebrate their town’s heritage with a Founder’s Day logging competition. Three friends, loggers who wanted to start their own business, founded the town of Trails End in 1898. Joseph Hunter, who cut trees until the day he died. And Albert Potter, who left behind the rugged life of a logger opening the town’s first bar and finally Guy Madison, who also left the lumberjack life to become the first mayor of Trails End. To this day a Hunter, Potter, and Madison still reside in Trails End,” Frank read from one of the Founder’s Day fliers.
“Apparently, Founder’s Day brings everyone from their homes and to the inlet of Crystal Lake to either participate in the festivities or watch as they consume their weight in beer,” Lucy laughed
“The brochure says they use the bay for logrolling. It’s roped-off and the shallows are sectioned-off for the events. Whoa, there are sixty-foot-tall cedar spar poles for speed climbing and various sized poles of cedar for sawing competitions and axe-tossing,” Frank finished.
Even though it was early, there were people milling around like the middle of the afternoon. Kids eating ice cream and cotton candy, men and women in different costumes depicting days long past, and the sound of chainsaws rang out as I took it all in behind the dark lenses of my sunglasses.
Someone tap-danced on my head the night before, I’m sure of it. In fact, I’m pretty sure whoever it was wore boots—big, manly, black boots.
We were currently loading the Jeep to head up into the mountain range to Grizzly Pointe. The drive would take ten minutes and then we had to hike up the ridge to the area where the bears were most likely roaming. Since my head was pounding from too many shots, all I wanted to do was load into the Jeep and leave.
Frank was stuffing the last of our gear in the trunk while I nursed an enormous cup of coffee. Lucy, who was staring across the parking lot at the festivities, suddenly shouted, rather loudly, I might add, “Oh, wow, look at how fast they climb those poles.”
Frank and I both looked up and turned towards the field when she shouted. Then we watched as loggers sprinted up sixty-foot poles, all sure-footed. They appeared to be using some sort of strap and cleats to climb the poles and from this distance, looked just like monkeys climbing a tree. Once they made it to the top, they descended just as quickly. However, one man, huge compared to the others, was quicker by far. He went up and down the pole, leaving the others in the dust.
Something tugged at my memory and I thought back to the night before and the picture of Paul Bunyan on the wall. Unfortunately, most of the night was a blur. There was drinking, I remembered that. Singing Billy Joel was kinda clear, though I prayed it was a hallucination brought on by too much alcohol. Oh, God, and puking on someone’s boots, I vaguely remember that as well. There was a faint memory of green eyes staring back at me, angry at first and then gentling when I got sick. There was also a vague memory of strong arms carrying me to my room. Thankfully, when I woke up this morning I was clothed, but only in bra and panties. How I got back to the motel and out of my clothes was a mystery, but I was alone in the room when I woke up. However, the rest of the night—gone, nada, zero memory.
I knew I’d drive myself crazy if I didn’t find out what happened, yet, at the same time, I was afraid to find out. Eyeing Lucy, I decided to rip the Band-Aid off and ask. However, before I could, Lucy turned suddenly as we watched another set of climbers take their turn. She reached into the Jeep pulling out the camera bag. When she found the digital 35mm with zoom lens she took off across the street, so Frank and I followed. As we reached the edge of the festivities, Lucy brought the camera up and looked through the lens, zooming in on the climbers.
“That’s Jake up next, come on,” she announced and then took off running.
“Lucy, we need to get up the mountain,” I shouted back, but she didn’t listen and kept heading towards the speed-climbing arena.
Frustrated and aching I turned to Frank and told him, “Move the Jeep around to the other side and I’ll go find her.”
Nodding, Frank smiled as he looked in the direction Lucy had gone and then mumbled, “At least one of us got lucky last night.”
I whipped around and watched Lucy disappear into the crowd, her ponytail bouncing as she sprinted towards her target. Had Lucy gotten lucky last night? I searched my memory and pulled up a picture of my young intern licking her way up a muscled body. Oh boy!
I started shoving through the crowds of people, amazed at how many residents there were in this small town. I wouldn’t have guessed there were more than five hundred people when we arrived, but the wall in front of me proved me wrong. Making my way towards the speed-climbing arena, I looked to the right when a man shouted “Loggers to your poles,” and saw a group of men getting ready to participate in the standing chop block. From what I knew about this event, which was little, the logger who was strongest, and surest with his strikes, won. I kept moving forward, my eyes scanning the men out of curiosity. Let’s face it, hungover or not, these were still burly men swinging axes and that was hot. Therefore, being a single woman, I looked, and then I froze. At the far end was Paul Bunyan, and his six plus feet (and I’m thinking fiveish inches) of pure heavenly brawn. He’d pulled the shirt from his body (thank you, Jesus) and was now standing in nothing but his jeans, work boots and a sexy leather cuff on his wrist.
I knew he had muscles, you couldn’t miss that about him, but seeing it in the flesh, flexing—no freaking words. Tanned from working in the sun, his chest was broad and chiseled like a statue, with a light sprinkling of chest hair. My eyes scanned down his body and saw tight abs defined like a boxers. But, his arms, the way those biceps and triceps flexed and released as he swung his axe warming up, Lord have mercy.
In a trance from all the muscle bound goodness, I found myself moving to, and sitting on, the grass near the water’s edge to watch. Okay, more like drooling rather than watching. But the crazy thing was, for a moment, I swore he looked my direction and held my gaze as his mouth twitched in a half grin.
When the announcer called out “Loggers ready,” I watched as he set his stance by measuring the distance to the log with his axe. Then he brought it down low, ready for his first strike. When the whistle blew, he swung with power as he chipped away strategically at the circle on the side of the three-foot smooth log. His blows were so powerful, after five swings, he moved to the other side and swung his axe again with the skill of a man who’d done it all his life. He was intimidating, seemingly godlike in presence compared to the other competitors and swung his axe with such force that he beat the others by a full thirty seconds.
When he was finished, he picked up his shirt, handed his axe to the next contestant, and to my surprise and utter terror, made his way straight towards me.
His eyes never left my face until he stopped at the water’s edge. Then he dropped his shirt and kneeled down dipping his hands into the cold water, cupping them. Since my ability to think, let alone speak, went south when all that muscle knelt down beside me. I said nothing out of fear he’d recognize me from the day before. Then, like it was my birthday and he was my present, he splashed water onto his sweat-covered face and neck, repeating this until the water dripped down his chest. Transfixed by the droplets, I watched the water run down all those hard nooks and plains. When he ran his strong fingers through his long hair, the front, curling down into his eyes, I stared spellbound, caught like a moth to a flame.
“You feelin’ better?” A deep rumbling voiced asked. My brain, which was firing at half capacity, slowly registered his words. When my eyes shot to his, he was staring at me as if he expected an answer. So I stuttered like a fool and asked, “Feeling, feeling better?”
“Yeah, babe, are you feelin’ better. I figured you’d have a headache after last night.”
Dread crept in at his words and I knew then I was missing something important. My confusion must have shown since he smiled, pulled his shirt back over that gorgeous body, then sat down next to me leaning in. Then he rocked my world when he said, “You don’t remember what happened between us, do you?”
Max chuckled as Mia’s expression paled, then turned bright red behind the dark glasses she wore. He figured she’d be fuzzy about the night before, but not so fuzzy that she wouldn’t remember him carrying her from the bathroom and out the door of the bar to her motel room. Jerry, who owned the motel, had let him into her room when they arrived. She’d been barely awake when he put her on her feet, then held her steady as she found her balance. She’d smiled dreamily at him as he held her close, slurring, “You have beautiful eyes, Paul Bunyan.” Then she’d pulled that damn Care Bears tee over her head and yanked off her sneakers and pants, showing him that stripper’s body as if she undressed in front of him every day. He’d had to ball his fists just to keep from reaching out to her. Then she’d stumbled forward, her ample breasts pinned to his chest as she’d reached up and caressed his beard. He locked eyes with her again as her tiny hand ran down his face and the sense of drowning returned as if he couldn’t catch his breath. Then she’d pulled his face down, got up on her toes, and kissed him softly on the cheek, whispering, “You’re like a big fuzzy bear. I love Grizzlies.”
“Jesus, you’re a cute drunk,” he’d chuckled.
She’d turned from him giggling and his eyes had moved to that firm ass of hers as she crawled into bed and passed out. He’d moved to the bed, positioned her on her side, and then watched her for a moment. When it was clear she was all right, he’d covered her and then left.
When he noticed her at the water’s edge, hiding behind those dark glasses, he figured she’d come to say thank you for seeing her back to her room. Now that he knew she didn’t remember, he decided to have some fun.
“What do you mean what happened between us?” she asked breathlessly.
Max leaned in, pulled the sunglasses from her face, and he replied, “Uptown girl, I’ll have to work harder next time if you don’t remember callin’ me your grizzly bear.”
“What?” she whispered, then continued flustered, “no, no I didn’t, I, I, you, you scowled at me and then, and then I saw you, I saw you at . . . oh, God, the bar.”
Like she was searching for an answer to all her questions, she leaned in and looked closely at his eyes. After a moment of searching, while Max tried to keep from laughing, she closed her eyes and whispered, “I’m never drinking again.”
Christ, that did it. Max laughed ‘cause he couldn’t help it. She looked miserable, but mostly adorable in another T-shirt with a Koala Bear on the front that read, “I’m over koalafied.”
When she looked away, color rising up her neck again, he decided to end her misery. Tugging gently on her ponytail to get her attention, when she looked back at him, he grinned a crooked grin and let her off the hook.
“The puking, I could have done without, but your ass in that sexy as hell underwear, not gonna lie, best view I’ve seen in years. And that’s sayin’ somethin’ considerin’ where I live.”
She gasped, and then surprisingly threw back her head and laughed deep and husky, fuckin’ fantastic and his body reacted to those sexy tones. When she turned back to him, her crystal pools sparkled with mirth. Then she stuck out her hand and answered shyly, “Hi, I’m Mia Roberts. Since you’ve seen my ass already, we might as well be on a first name basis.”
Feeling like an idiot, but trying to act as if it was no big deal, I watched as he wrapped his big hand around mine, dwarfing it. Then his crooked grin grew into a full-blown smile, dazzling me with its intensity. I was so dazzled, by the way, that I almost missed his reply.
“I'm Max, Max Hunter. Anytime you wanna show me that ass again the answer is yes.”
Now, I know I’ve mentioned that I’m awkward with men and this is a perfect example of how awkward. Instead of being, say, sophisticated at this moment and rolling with the proverbial punches, I, of course, rambled.
“Right, no, I mean, yes. Shit, what I meant to say is, we’re leaving this morning and, and.” Feeling flustered and a little dizzy at the idea of showing Max my ass again, I pulled my hand from his, stood abruptly, and then blurted out, “I have to find Lucy and get up the mountain.”
God, I’m an idiot.
My cheeks warmed with embarrassment when he chuckled at my stuttering mouth. Even so, I’ll admit to a tiny tingle down south just from hearing it directed at me. He knew he was making me nervous, I could see it in the width of his smile. Even knowing this, instead of trying to save face I wanted to evade and hide, so I rattled off “Nice to meet you Mr. Hunter, my ass appreciates your chivalry,” and I fled like a child.
Chivalry? Oh, God, please, just kill me now.
Then, of course, making a bigger fool of myself, I turned too quickly during my hasty retreat and stumbled up the hill as I left him standing by the water. When I looked back to see if he was watching as I pushed through the crowd, I collided headfirst with the blonde I’d seen talking with Max at the bar.
“Shit, sorry,” I mumbled, but the blonde only replied, “He isn’t the type to settle down. Fair warning if you go there.”
“Oh, um, no, no, not going there,” I laughed, “going up the mountain though. Excuse me, I really need to go kill myself now,” I mumbled as I hightailed it up the hill.
Unbelievable, so far this trip I’d gotten drunk, shown my ass, made a complete fool out of myself and managed to sing in front of a few hundred people. The way my luck was going so far, I’d be dead by the end of the day. I just wanted to find Lucy so we could get the hell out of Dodge, was that too much to ask?
Mumbling to myself, I headed towards the speed-climbing arena in search of my missing intern. On my way to the venue, I managed to get sidetracked once again when I passed an arena with a huge bull’s eye in the center.
I paused in fascination and watched as a woman, big in stature, picked up a hand axe and hurled it through the air towards the large target. It landed just off dead center, and the crowd broke into applause as the announcer called out her score. Impressed by her throw, for the first time in a long time, I wished I had some athletic ability.
Still watching, I clapped as the next contestant walked up. She was an older woman, middle to late sixties, I figured, with gorgeous silver hair that she wore long and braided down her back. As if she’d been doing it her whole life she raised the hand axe, concentrated on the target, and then wound up and let it fly nailing the bull’s eye dead center. More than impressed, I stuck my fingers in my mouth and whistled loudly for the woman as the announcer shouted “Bull’s eye for Maxine.” When she stepped back to let another woman have a go, I walked over to her smiling and told her “That was impressive, have you been throwing all your life?”
“I have, young lady. I was raised in Colorado and then swept off my feet by a dashing Alaskan who chopped trees for a living. I’m Maxine, by the way, and you must be Mia.”
Well, that confirmed it, small towns have no secrets and apparently my performance and subsequent puking on Max’s boots had made the rounds. Trying not to blush, I shook the woman’s hand while ignoring her knowing smile.
“It’s nice to meet you and yes, I’m Mia Roberts with SIOZ.”
Maxine was about to say something when her attention seemed to wander over my shoulder. I was about to turn to see what she was looking at when she moved to my side and asked “You ever throw an axe?”
“Oh, no, I’m not athletic. I’m pretty sure my parents removed all sharp objects from our house when I was growing up.”
“Nonsense, it doesn’t take any special skill to throw an axe, you just gotta envision someone you hate in the center of the bull’s eye. Works like a charm. I usually think about Mayor Madison when I’m aiming,” she explained as she grabbed my hand and hauled me into the throwing ring.
“Oh, no, no, really I . . . wow, that’s heavier than I thought it would be.”
“Now, just keep your eyes on the center of the bull’s eye and think about someone you hate.”
“But, I don’t hate anyone.”
“Sure ya do, everyone hates somebody.”
My eyes drifted over her shoulder as she spoke and saw Max heading our direction as the blonde from the bar kept pace with him. He was gorgeous, like a romance novel hero, and God help me, at that moment I hated the blonde.
For the first time in my life, I was jealous, even though I had no right to be. Therefore, when I turned to throw, I pictured the blonde's face on the target and let the axe fly. Then I watched in horror as it hit the side, flew a fair distance sideways, and buried itself in the ground near the feet of spectators. Everyone gasped when the axe landed and then jumped back.
Maxine chuckled “Mercy, never seen one take flight like that,” and I thought, of course, you haven’t, I’m a walking talking danger most days.
Unfortunately, before I could say “I’m so sorry, I tried to tell you.” I heard a deep voice rumble, “Jesus, Mom, are ya tryin’ to get everyone killed?”
I may have only heard that voice once, but the sound of it was burned into my cerebrum. So on the word “Mom,” I spun around and found Max scowling at the both of us as I whispered “Your mother?”
“Yeah, my mother, though her lack of common sense makes me wonder.”
“Funny, Maximilian. Give me that axe and let her try again.”
“Were you not just standin’ here when she threw the last one?”
“And? She just needs to focus. Mia, next time visualize Max as the bull’s eye. Somethin’ tells me you’d hit it then.”
“Really, I don’t need to throw again,” I explained, but neither one of them seemed to hear me.
Beyond humiliated and maybe even a little pissed at Max for assuming I’d kill someone, I started to move away as Max and his mother, continued to argue. When I turned to leave, and looked up the hill I saw (and it could be said I saw red instantly) Donald Zimmer talking with a pudgy man who looked fit-to-be-tied. I couldn’t believe my eyes, he was supposed to be in a meeting, it was the sole reason I’d come all the way out here in first damn place. Without so much as a goodbye to Max or his mother, I headed straight for Donald. My head was still pounding and it seemed to take on a life of its own as my anger increased.
Dressed in Bermuda shorts, long-sleeved T-shirt and boots with his trademark dreadlocks pulled back into a ponytail, he looked arrogant and full of himself as he spoke with the man. As I approached, I heard Donald say, “The bears are my main priority, not this town.”
The pudgy man turned beet red at this news and then shouted in return, “You’ll put the whole town out of work.”
“Donald, what’s going on and why in the hell are you here?” I questioned as I came to a stop next to both men.
Donald turned, smiled at me, and then like he usually did, he reached out and touched me inappropriately. Only this time he put his hand on my waist and drew me closer. With a huge smile in place when he looked at me, Donald leaned in and announced, “I did it, Mia. I got Congressman Sheppard to agree to sponsor a bill to reclassify this area as a national forest. All I need are fifty thousand signatures and he’ll push to get the land around Grizzly Pointe reclassified.”
“Say that again?” the same rumbling voice from before asked from behind me, but this time the anger was lethal in tone.
“Hello, Hunter,” Donald replied with disdain.
Turning fully to Max, his mouth pulled tight over his teeth, and his brows pinched in anger as he responded with nothing short of malice.
“I suppose you should be the first to know. Once I have the signatures needed to sponsor a bill, and I will get them, I promise you that, this whole mountain range will become a national forest. When that happens, eminent domain takes effect and you’ll be forced to sell. Your logging is pushing my bears further north out of their summer feeding range and it’s affecting their reproduction. I’m done standing by as I watch my bears dwindle in numbers so you can kill trees. So, the only recourse I have is to shut you down.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, I closed my eyes. What was he thinking? He’d kill this town if that happened and he knew it. Then I heard Maxine, who’d walked up next to me, gasp, then seethe in a tight voice, “My husband’s family has been on this mountain for over a hundred years. Most of the people in this town depend upon the jobs we provide to survive. Are you sayin’ the lives of a handful of bears are more important than the livelihood of twenty-five hundred people?”
“Of course, he isn’t,” I tried to explain to her, but Max took that moment to grab Donald by the shirt and haul him off his feet.
Donald shouted, “You can’t bully me into stopping,” as his feet left the ground, but Max didn’t listen and kept right on threatening him.
“No? But I can kill you before you kill this town,” Max roared in his face.
Donald paled and tried to push him off, but it was pointless. Max outweighed him by fifty pounds and if his size wasn’t factor enough, his anger was so great that Donald never stood a chance.
Onlookers watched as I grabbed Max’s arm and tried to pull him off. Lucy, Frank, and Jake ran up at that moment and the men tried to pull Max off Donald as well.
Maxine and I stepped back from the scuffle as Jake reasoned with Max to let Donald go. Finally, with a shove, he let Donald go with a warning.
“Don’t fuck with me and don’t fuck this town,” Max growled.
When he turned towards his mother, he glared at me with an intensity I’d never felt in my life. It was clear right then he hated me because of who I worked with and I didn’t blame him one bit. Lowering my eyes, ashamed to look at them both as they walked away, my head snapped up when Donald said, “It’s best not to get friendly with the natives, Mia. It’s our responsibility to look after the bears. You’ll only cloud the issues when you interact with them.”
I wasn’t a violent person, but at that moment, I could have killed him myself for treating people so callously. Shoving past him, needing to be anywhere but in his presence, I was stopped short when Donald grabbed my wrist and twisted tightening his grip.
“Did you sleep with him?” he asked unexpectedly.
“What?” I asked confused, wincing in pain.
“I arrived late last night and saw Lucy and some man stumbling drunk into her room. Then I saw Hunter carry you into your room. So, I’ll ask again, did you sleep with him.”
“That’s none of your business, Donald. Let go of my arm you’re hurting me,” I shouted.
“You know SIOZ won’t look favorably on its employees getting drunk and sleeping around like common sluts.”
My head snapped back as if he’d struck me, but his threat was clear. Back him or he’d inform SIOZ of our behavior.
It was instinctual. I didn’t think about it before my hand connected with his face. The slap stung my hand and was so loud that the crowd who’d gathered had gasped in surprise. Donald let go of me the instant my hand connected with his face, but he shoved me back when he did and I stumbled.
Pissed off by the whole scene, I turned too quickly and lost my balance as usual, falling to my knees. Lucy came to my rescue chuckling “Come on slugger,” as she helped me to my feet.
I heard laughter, but didn’t care. I was glad I’d slapped him and now that I thought about it, I bet if I’d pictured Donald while throwing that damn axe, I’d have won the whole bloody competition.