changed direction, he sent up a spray of sand. JT suspected that as far as the boys were concerned, this was completely normal—why, every time you went down the Colorado River you picked up a stray dog on the first night.
He checked his watch; it was almost seven, and they hadn’t even started dinner. “Let’s get people fed. We’ll deal with the dog later. I sure am not going to worry about it right now.”
“What’s the menu?” Dixie asked.
“Salmon.”
“Oh my god, I LOVE salmon!” Abo shouted.
“Good. Because you’re cooking it.”
“And I love COOKING salmon too!”
“Tone it down, Abo,” said Dixie, “or I am not going to survive two weeks on the river with you.”
Abo narrowed his eyes. “Sleep with me tonight, babe.”
“Been there, done that,” Dixie murmured.
JT tossed his empty beer can onto a tarp near the kitchen area. “Abo, start the grill. Dixie, teach those boys how to bust up the cans.” He opened the meat cooler, which was three-quarters solid ice and one-quarter frozen protein. He took out the slabs of salmon, then closed the cooler and looked up to see Mitchell standing at the bow.
“Need something, Mitchell?”
“Just wondering if you knew what you were going to do with the dog yet.”
“Nope.”
Mitchell set his hands on his hips—not belligerently. “Because some of us are concerned about trouble,” he began. “Lena’s got allergies. And if the dogs been exposed to rabies or something …”
“Well take care of it, Mitchell,” JT assured him.
“I’ve been waiting years for this trip,” Mitchell said.
“I read you, Mitchell,” said JT, feeling a certain level of professional tolerance dropping. “But don’t worry. The dog’s not going to spoil things.”
“We’ve got some gin, by the way, if you fellas want a gin and tonic,” Mitchell offered.
“Thanks,” said JT. “A rain check, maybe. Gotta get dinner going right now.”
And within a mere half hour, they did in fact have a splendid dinner ready. Nobody forgot about the Fourth of July, either: using two oars, twine, and some fancy knot-tying skills, Abo strung up red, white, and blue balloons over the serving table, and for dessert there was a cake decorated like an American flag, which Dixie presented complete with a sparkler, to great applause. The dog, who two hours ago had seemed so seriously crippled, now darted between people’s legs in search of dropped morsels; he soon learned that all he had to do was follow Lloyd, who had a tendency to set his plate down and wander off in search of something else.
“That’s three plates of salmon you’ve taken now!” Ruth scolded him. “Now stay put!”
Although they had known each other just over twenty-four hours, as a group they were already forming tentative bonds. Amy, who had brought a deck of cards, mystified Sam and Matthew with card tricks. Mark and Mitchell found they had skied at the same resort in Canada as boys. Lena convinced Jill that navigating the menu of a digital camera was not as difficult as Jill feared.
Only JT sat by himself, alone on his raft, listening to the sound of water sloshing against his boat. It was dusk, and the color had drained out of the cliffs, leaving them starkly silhouetted against an apricot sky. He did not intend to let the matter of the dog spoil the evening for him; he had faith that it would work out, one way or another. Very few things could rattle JT, which was why he was such a good river guide: he handled the unforeseen with grace, and usually managed to learn something from it and come out ahead.
He looked at the group; people were sitting on mats, logs, or the sand itself, finishing dessert. It seemed to be a good bunch, for the most part. Mitchell had the potential to be a pain, he knew, and Amy’s weight troubled him; he’d never had such an overweight person on a trip before. He’d have to think about balancing the boats and scheduling hikes with lots of turnaround options. But so what if she didn’t hike as much as the others? The canyon belonged to everyone, regardless of physical limitations. She would still have a good time. And who knew what she might learn about herself?
This was, in fact, what he enjoyed about these trips: watching people discover new sides of themselves on the river. The fearful took risks; the quiet ones opened up; sometimes (though not always), the loud ones quieted down. Egos got checked, life plans altered. You saw a lot of