emerge from the car and watching them josh with each other and laugh, he was relieved. They were there for the adventure.
Drey Russell-short for Andre, according to his booking form-was a light-skinned black man with dark kind eyes and a quick smile. Jed didn’t get many people of color on his trips, and welcomed Drey so he could get some photos of him in the group to use on his Web site. The National Park Service loved that diversity crap, he knew.
Tony D’Amato looked as dark and Italian as his name, and had a heavy New Jersey accent. He played the part of the perpetually flummoxed big-city boy stuck out in the country, the man who “don’t know nothin’ about horses except the ones on the carousel,” who was the butt of Knox’s and Drey’s jibes. These three would be no trouble, Jed thought. They were into themselves and their group, and they were there to fill up a sackful of memories to laugh about later when they met after work at the bar. So for them, the tougher, the crazier, the more primitive the trip the better because it would make for better tales to tell. A little high maintenance, maybe, Jed thought, even though they didn’t intend to be. Folks raised entirely in cities didn’t have perspective when it came to so many outdoor adventures. But they’d try to get along. No doubt they were all used to snappy service at resorts and lodges and probably not the grind of the trail, despite what they might think. He remembered seeing the previous male- bonding trips listed on their applications, including Mexico, Europe, and Scandinavia. Of course, that was before the economic meltdown, back when these guys pulled down seven figures or close to that. Now, as Knox had made it clear on his initial call, the circumstances were such that the group agreed to keep doing their annual adventure together, even if “they had to slum it for a couple of years.” Although Jed took silent offense to that, he also decided upon seeing them that they seemed almost normal. Jed would just play to Knox and Drey to get them on board. They’d keep Tony D’Amato in line. These three could be Jed’s allies, if he played it right. It was always good to establish allies early on.
“You see we have mules as well as horses,” Jed said, gesturing behind him to where the animals stood tied abreast along the length of the horse trailer. “The mules are our pack animals.”
Jed paused and smiled slyly. “For our friends from New York City, the mules are the goofy-looking ones with long ears who are fast asleep right now.”
That got a bit of a laugh and the Wall Streeters enjoyed being highlighted. Yup, Jed thought, they’d be all right.
Said Jed, “I’ll lead a string of three and Dakota here will follow up the rest of you with a string of three as well. In those canvas boxes on the sides of the mules will be all our equipment-tents, food, first-aid kits, cookstove and kitchen setup, plates and silverware, feedbags, everything we’ll need. That’s why I asked all of you to keep your personal gear down to no more than twenty pounds each. We just don’t have the space or animals to take any more. I know it’s tough to get all your possessions down to twenty pounds, but for the sake of the animals and the weight on them, that’s what we have to do. You’ll learn to live with and maybe even enjoy not having too many choices of what to wear each day.
“Even though I sent you a checklist, let me just make sure you all have what you need, starting with a good sleeping bag…”
As he went through the list: sleeping bag, sleeping pad, rain gear, on and on, he picked out the two remaining clients on the trip, the two singles. Singles were often a pain in the butt to Jed, since they tended to try to pal around with him or Dakota if they didn’t fit in with any of the other clients, which was often the case. Singles could sometimes be broody and standoffish, and create dissension. Jed was always relieved when other clients took in the strays so he wouldn’t have to.
The singles were a man and a woman. They stood as far away from each other as possible while still being within the group of clients, meaning they had no immediate intention of forming an alliance. The man was named K. W. Wilson. Ken. He was dark and pinched and had provided the least amount of personal information on his registration form of anyone. The only thing Jed knew about him was Ken was from Utah, wanted to fish, and that he couldn’t eat cheese. Jed would try to figure the guy out at Camp One so he’d know how to handle him and integrate him into the larger group. If K.W. wouldn’t talk, Jed would ask Dakota to sidle up to him. Men liked to talk to Dakota, even if she didn’t particularly like talking with them.
Wilson had his camera out and was taking digital photos of everybody and everything. What was odd about it was the man never asked anyone to smile or even permission to click away.
The other single was a woman, Rachel Mina. Aside from the dark-haired Sullivan girl, Mina was the best-looking woman on the trip. She had high cheekbones, white skin, and long auburn hair tied back into a ponytail. She filled out her jeans nicely, Jed thought. And he knew her type the minute the booking form had come through his fax machine: midforties, well-to-do, and recently divorced. The last of the children out of the home, probably, and finally able to do the things she’d never been able to do before, ready for anything, game for anything. Jed could tell Dakota had picked up the same impression right off by the way she glared at her.
It was interesting, Jed thought, that the booking forms for Ted Sullivan and Rachel Mina arrived within days of each other back in November the year before. He assumed they might be together. But Sullivan and Mina hadn’t greeted each other or even shared a glance that he’d seen. He chalked the close arrival of the forms to coincidence. Which meant she may be in play after all.
“Any questions?” Jed asked.
Tony D’Amato raised his hand. As he did, Drey and Knox coughed into their hands.
“What do we do if we can’t get along with our horse? You know, like we’ve
Jed said, “Walk.” Deadpan. Then he grinned. “You shouldn’t have to worry. We’ll match you up with the easiest and gentlest horse we’ve got. The horse knows to follow the horse in front of it. All you’ll have to do is keep balanced. The less steering you do the better. These horses know where we’re going and who’s in charge. They’ll fall right into line. We don’t allow any cowboy stuff, folks. You’re all riding trail horses along a trail. No breaking off from the line, no riding fast. We’re into safety and not rodeos. So just sit back and relax. And once we get going, Dakota and I will help you out and give you some tips.”
“Maybe you can ride a mule,” Drey said to Tony, and both he and Knox broke out laughing.
“I’ve got a question,” said Tristan Glode. His voice was stentorian and without humor.
“Yes, sir?” Jed said. He knew instantly Glode was the kind of man who would expect and appreciate deference and would reward it with a big tip.
“I’ve been following the weather and the conditions in Yellowstone for the past six months since we signed up for this adventure,” he said. Jed noted the Wall Streeters looking at each other and rolling their eyes at his out-front arrogance but looked away before Glode saw him. “It’s been unseasonably cold and wet. More rainfall than usual by a large degree. My question is if we’ll need to deviate from your established routing because of the high water.”
Jed answered quickly, so as not to concern the rest of his clients. “You’re absolutely right about the rain, sir,” he said. “We’ve had a hell of a wet spring and early summer. In fact, I had to cancel my first two trips because of it. I didn’t want to risk taking folks or these horses through swelled-up creeks and rivers. But the rains finally let up, as you can see. The water levels are going down, and the Park Service gave me the okay. So I don’t think there’s anything you need to worry about. We can be a little flexible if we need to. If the camp we plan to stay at is washed out, there are plenty of others to choose from. This is a big damned place.”
As he said the last part, Jed felt Dakota’s probing eyes on the side of his head. He ignored her.
Glode stood perfectly still, absorbing the answer. For a moment, Jed anticipated Glode would say something disastrous, like, “Maybe we should come back another year.”
Instead, Glode said, “As long as we get the experience we’re paying for, I’m okay with that. I don’t want some cheap route because of conditions. I want to take the trip into the back of beyond I paid for.”
“That you’ll get, sir,” Jed said, grinning with relief. “But keep in mind what I said about flexibility.”
