An Alaskan Proposal

“It’s going!” She turned to Leith, grinning. “I mean, I realize it took me three matches, but I lit a fire!”

“Three matches isn’t bad. You get a gold star for fire building. Now, while we let the logs burn to coals for cooking, I’ll unload the food, and you can pitch the tent. This is last year’s version of the one you, uh—”

“Almost destroyed?”

“You said it, not me.” He handed her the tent bag, which she dumped out.

“It’s green.” She rolled her eyes. “What a surprise.”

“What have you got against green? It matches your vest.”

“I know. And it matches the camp chairs in the store, and the midweight sleeping bags, and most of the rain jackets. It’s like whoever designs the products for Orson only has eight crayons to choose from. I can’t figure it out. I’ve been looking online at our competition. There are beautiful designs in outdoor gear. Why do ours have to be so...plain?”

“Did you see the prices on those brands? Orson Outfitters is known for producing high quality at reasonable prices. That’s why people like it. They don’t spend a lot on stuff that doesn’t matter.”

“It is good quality.” Sabrina unzipped her vest to show him the lining. “The workmanship on this vest is excellent. The seams are straight and well finished, they used a heavy-duty zipper, and the stitching on the windproof lining is perfect. But it’s boxy. It’s like they just made a smaller version of a man’s vest without changing the shape.”

“They probably did.”

“It shouldn’t cost any more to curve the seams and use more interesting colors.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with green.”

“Nothing. I love green. But why couldn’t it be forest green, or sage green, or emerald? Or they could use the nap of the fleece to create some textural interest.” He was looking at her as though she was speaking a foreign language. She laughed. “Sorry. Back to the tent. I can handle this. Now that I know what a shock cord is.”

This tent was just like the other one except that the fabric and the poles were solid green. She followed the same steps and threaded the first pole through the sleeve, as she had on the other tent, but when she was finished, it was too long to fit into the grommets.

Sabrina let out a groan of frustration. “Why doesn’t it work?”

Leith set down a Dutch oven and came to see. “Oh, I should have mentioned. The poles aren’t the same length. That’s why they color-coded them on the new design. I’ve made the same mistake before. I should mark those poles somehow.”

“I’ll do it.” Sabrina set down the poles and trotted to the car for her leather backpack. She burrowed around inside until she located a bottle of nail polish. “Ta-da. I’ll mark them for you. L for long and S for short?”

Leith was shaking his head. “You bring nail supplies on a camping trip?”

“Hey, you brought that enormous first-aid kit.” She pulled out the brush and painted an L on the end of the longer pole. “I’m a whole lot more likely to break a nail than a bone.”

“Maybe so, but if you do break a bone, you’ll be glad to have the first-aid supplies to splint it.”

“Good point.” She carefully painted an S on the other pole. “But you must admit, the nail polish came in handy.”

“I admit nothing.” He looked over her shoulder. “Be sure to mark the other ends of the poles, too.”

Sabrina snorted and looked up to see him grinning at her. “I’ll do that. With my useless nail polish. To make setting up your tent easier next time.”

Once the polish dried, she successfully set up the tent. Leith showed her how to make chili over the fire in a cast-iron Dutch oven, but while that was cooking he had her practice lighting a camp stove and boiling water. It turned out that those metal trivets with silicone rings she’d seen at the team-builder expanded to turn into pans.

He demonstrated inflatable sleeping pads and folding cots, mentioned the importance of using biodegradable products when camping and debated the pros and cons of mummy-style sleeping bags versus conventional bags. She’d never remember all of it, but at least some of those terms she’d read on the company website were starting to make sense.

“Chili should be ready. Are you hungry?”

“Starving,” Sabrina admitted.

“These are the latest silicone camping bowls from Orson.” Leith handed her an orange disk. “They’re heat-resistant and foldable, just like the pans.”

Sabrina pushed on the center and it popped open into a bowl. “Cool.”

“And they’re not green.”

“You’re right. Orange is a favorite, too, I’ve noticed. For some reason our summer bag is only in orange.”

“I know. I have three.” Leith used a thick mitt to grab the Dutch oven by the bale and lift it off the fire. When he opened the lid, the aroma of cumin and chilis filled the air. Tal whimpered.

Sabrina almost whimpered as well. “That smells so good.”

Leith tossed Tal a dog biscuit and handed Sabrina a big spoon. “Help yourself.”

She ladled the rich red chili into her bowl and carried it over to one of the folding chairs. Leith settled into the other chair. He scooped up a spoonful and held it up like a toast. “To outdoor adventures.”

“Outdoor adventures. And successful careers.” Sabrina blew on her spoon and then took her first bite. It was as good as it smelled. “Yum. I’m a good campfire cook. Who knew?”

“Not bad,” Leith agreed. “A little heavier on the jalapeños than usual.”

“Oh? Can’t take the heat?”

“Oh, I can take it,” he said, taking another spoonful of chili. A minute later, Sabrina noticed he took a big gulp from his water bottle, and she smiled to herself. Next time she’d dial down the jalapeños a little. And then she remembered that, unless they served chili at the wedding, there wouldn’t be a next time. This was a business arrangement, not a friendship. Too bad because she’d enjoyed her time today with Leith more than she ever expected to.

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