Free Primal Obsession by Susan Vaughan

on a low boulder. “A-ah, that’s better. New construction mostly.”
    “Houses? Developments? Offices?”
    “Mostly houses. A few office buildings.” He stared out at the water in silence.
    She cocked her head. Asking about his business wasn’t opening him up. Most self-important guys like Carl would jump at the chance to boast. “I might do a feature on manufactured housing. What do you think of that trend?”
    His mouth twisted in a sneer. “Piece of shit Clorox bottle on concrete. Those damned glorified trailers are a blight on the industry.”
    If only she had her recorder. “Shoddy construction?”
    “That’s it. On the plus side, when they collapse in a few years, us real carpenters’ll have more work.” He stood and tucked his shirt. “Sam’s not back yet. I’ll go check out the other direction.” He adjusted his sunglasses.
    “Are you sure it’s a good idea to separate?” She mopped the gouge on her shin with a wet-wipe.
    He showed her his teeth. “Honey, we’re on an island. No problemo.”
    She waved Carl off. All she wanted to do was jump in the lake—fully clothed. Instead, she found solace in a granola bar.
    That morning, she’d woken early. During her restless night, she’d tossed and turned on the air mattress, startling at every noise—sleepy chirps, minute skitterings, distant hoots. Then she’d climbed out of the tent to find Sam making coffee. He’d acted groggier than she.
    After scrambled eggs and bagels toasted over the fire, Sam announced the bushwhack. “Some call it orienteering, but if you’re beating a trail through the woods—”
    “Bushwhack’s a more accurate term,” Carl finished for him. “Sounds great. Let’s go, y’all.”
    Not that simple.
    First they practiced reading topographical maps. With small plastic compasses, they found locations on the map and sighted some actual landmarks around them.
    “This is kid stuff, Kincaid.” Carl waved his compass. “Let’s just get to the hike.”
    “You won’t think it’s kid stuff if it keeps you from getting lost.” Ray’s penetrating stare from beneath his prominent brow added weight to his words.
    Carl subsided, grumbling.
    Next they paced off distances and times along the beach. Finally, they planned their routes.
    Annie, Carl, and Sam had to hike the length of the small island to a selected cove. As navigator, Annie plotted out their landmarks and directions on the map and wrote them on a slip of paper. Ray, Nora, and Frank had to paddle a canoe around the island to the same cove.
    It seemed simple, but they didn’t reckon on Mother Nature’s sense of humor. After all the other tricks the old dame had played on Annie, she should’ve known.
    The trek that Sam predicted would take an hour dragged into three because blow-downs, rocks, and saplings created a maze. Climbing over deadfall spiked with broken branches and pushing through underbrush provoked her to snipe at Sam—when she could catch her breath. Sam teased her at first, but as the hike dragged on, his humor dragged with it.
    The only one overtly enjoying the challenge had been Carl, who’d bounded over the barriers like a kid.
    The clatter of pebbles from both sides announced that Sam and Carl were returning from reconnaissance.
    Sam hated seeing Annie so exhausted, too beat to zing him. Too beat to object to the nickname princess. Her mascara smudged under her eyes, giving her a tired-raccoon expression. Even her ponytail sagged.
    The damn island had in fact forced them to whack the bush. And the canoe party had tacked in the rising wind while they searched for the right cove. Everyone was tired, but seeing her like that triggered unwanted protective feelings.
    Sparring with her kept him from dwelling on whether he could make a go of guiding. But anything more than kidding around was out of the question. After the accident, the hash he’d made of his attempt at a new career meant he couldn’t afford to screw up again. Swallowing a string