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Identity(133)

Author:Nora Roberts

“Covered and coated—with more in my pack.” She went into the mudroom for the leash. “We are taking Howl.”

“Yeah, he’s expecting it.”

After Miles shrugged on his own pack, they went out the back. And when the dog spotted the leash, he sat where he was, looked deliberately away.

“He considers the leash insulting.”

“Of course he does. As if you wouldn’t be a good boy,” she crooned as she went to him. “The very best boy. But we can’t take you on the adventure without it.”

He suffered the indignity.

“We’ll take the car.”

“Oh, I figured we’d hike the trail about a half mile from here.”

Since she had the dog, Miles grabbed her free hand. “The Birch Trail’s a good loop, and when we’re done, we can pick up your car.”

“Works for me. I’m bound to be rusty,” she said as they piled into the car. “I haven’t been on a serious hike in a couple years. Time to get back in gear there so I can hike in the fall when the leaves change—and that won’t be long. I’ve never been here in the fall.”

“Tourists jam the place.”

“Which is good for the resort, and the town.”

“Yeah, but the trails get crowded. We’ll have some company today, summer brings them, too. But not like September and October.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Not summer ending, but seeing the fall.”

After he parked next to her car, she got out, shouldered her pack again before getting Howl out of the back.

“It’s a five-mile loop,” Miles told her, “but there’s a cutoff to shorten it to three.”

“I can handle five.” Another challenge.

“We’ll add to that walking down to the ropes course, zip line. The trailhead’s right there.”

“I rented a bike in the spring, a couple times, so I could tour the resort that way, get a better sense of the layout. I really thought about buying one, but it’s just too far to bike to work, and too late to risk biking home.”

“You don’t have to get a bike just for transportation.”

“No, guess not.” But she couldn’t justify just-because expenses. Not yet.

“Anyway, the way things are laid out? The walking trail around the lake, the hiking trails—at least the ones I’ve seen signposted. Then the zip lines, climbing wall, the cute little playground area. It all makes sense. I stopped in the Adventure Outlet, obviously, for the bike. Also smart to make it so easy to buy or rent gear, and right within sight of the ski lifts and runs. Then there’s the lake.”

She stopped to look out at the blue water dotted with kayaks and canoes. The mountains, green as their name, reflected on it. “I’ve never kayaked. I guess you have.”

“Sure. We’ll squeeze it in some weekend.”

“It’s something, to have all this at your fingertips really.”

“My great-grandparents bought the land and built the first lodge, the first couple cabins, because of the lake and that view.”

“You’re lucky they had that foresight. And what your family’s done with it. Building on it, yeah, but with respect. When I biked through, I’d spot a cabin, but it looked like it grew there.”

Howl, forgetting the insult of the leash, strolled and sniffed his way along the walking trail.

“Word is you’re going to transition to electric shuttles.”

“Yeah, by the fall peak. We’re putting in more charging stations.”

“Also smart.”

They came in sight of the ropes course, tucked in the trees. Morgan shook her head at the guests climbing, balancing, swinging high above her head.

“I can see doing that,” she said as Miles steered her to the trailhead, “when the zombie apocalypse hits, or the inevitable invasion by aliens hell-bent on exterminating the human race. It might be necessary to build rope bridges and walls, learn to balance on swinging tires and wood planks. But until then?”

She shifted her pack. “I’ll stick with hiking trails for my adventuring. And this is why,” she added, as they started the climb through the birch trail that gave the trail its name.

“It’s beautiful, already beautiful.”

“It gets better. Let me know when you’re tired of handling the leash.”

“We’re fine. I’m going to take a million pictures, so be prepared for it. Like now. Oh, I remember this. Wild lupine.” When she crouched down to frame the spears of purple, Howl licked her cheek.