far more strenuous. Especially if you don’t bring enough water.”
Riley leaned back in his chair. “Of course, the heat isn’t a problem in November and December. But the air is so dry that dehydration is still a danger. We get about a hundred exhaustion cases per week during the winter months. And let me tell you: getting airlifted out of the canyon by helicopter is not cheap.”
I shook my head in wonder. “Wow. I had no idea it was that dangerous. I’ve never been.”
“Never been where?” Harper asked. “To the Grand Canyon?”
“You’re joking,” Riley said.
I shook my head. “Never been.”
Harper cocked his head. “How long have you lived in Flagstaff?”
“Since I was six.”
Riley almost choked on his wine. “For twenty years you’ve lived an hour away from one of the seven natural wonders of the world, and you said, eh, forget it.”
“We weren’t the kind of family who went on trips together,” I said. It wasn’t something I liked to talk about, but the wine was making it easier. “Not even a short trip like that.”
Riley smacked the table with his palm. “I’ll take you some time! We’ll hike down into the canyon.”
“A minute ago you were explaining to me how dangerous it is to do that.”
“Not with me as your guide,” he said confidently. “How many people get to have their own personal Park Ranger tour? It’ll be great, I promise.”
“Okay,” I said. “That would be fun. What about Logan? He works in the park too, right?”
“He’s a back-country Ranger,” Harper said.
“Back country?”
“You’ve got all the main trails that are heavily trafficked with tourists,” he explained. “Then you’ve got the back-country trails. They’re farther from civilization, with fewer amenities. Hikers carry everything on their back for days at a time.”
“Sleeping bag, tent, water,” Riley added. “Three liters of water per person, per day. Shit’s heavy.”
“Logan patrols those trails. Just in case someone is low on water or needs medical attention. Just the other day he saved a hiker who was bit by a rattlesnake.”
“On Wednesday,” Riley said. “Took him extra long to return since he was helping a limping hiker.”
I remembered how Logan had looked in the mall Wednesday night, his hair messy and his boots covered in fine dust. Suddenly I felt guilty for castigating him for being late.
“Logan did say he hates dealing with people. It sounds like being a back-country Ranger is perfect for him!”
They both laughed. “It’s better for everyone that way,” Riley said. “The fewer people he interacts with, the better.”
“Deep down, he’s a nice guy,” Harper said. “He just has a weird way of showing it.”
“I’ve got some dogs like that,” I mused. “Did you save room for dessert?”
Their eyes widened and they looked at each other. “You didn’t mention dessert!”
“I’ll show you my pies and let you choose which you want,” I said as I got up.
“Best volunteer job I’ve ever taken,” I heard Riley say to Harper.
I smiled while readying the dessert—and another bottle of wine.
8
Christie
Harper had a slice of apple pie, while Riley had two tiny slivers of both pies. When their plates were empty we carried our wine glasses into the living room, sat on the floor, and began emptying the donation jars. Slinky, the grey-haired Dachshund, curled up in Harper’s lap and went to sleep while he counted the money.
“I’m totally winning,” Riley said while smoothing out a twenty-dollar bill.
“Quality over quantity,” Harper muttered. With his free hand he scratched Slinky’s head. “The customers I helped will probably give more donations in the future thanks to the high-quality wrapping I did.”
“Excuses, excuses. The only thing that matters is the scoreboard,” Riley replied.
I smiled while emptying out my own donation jar. I was feeling wonderfully tipsy at that moment, and the men were perfect company for my good mood.
Of course, it didn’t hurt that we had hundreds—if not thousands—of dollars worth of donations in front of us. The more we raised during the holidays, the more we had to sustain us throughout the year. That meant fostering more dogs, which required more food and vaccines and employees.
I couldn’t help but steal sideways glances at the two gorgeous men sitting on the floor of my living room. It would have been shallow to say I was attracted to them simply because they had earned a bunch of money for my dog shelter. I had been attracted to them the moment I met them, after all. But there was something sexy about their enthusiasm and eagerness to help raise money for