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“This is going to be a great day.”
Caitlyn suspected her boredom and mild annoyance were showing on her face more than she intended, because Jayce quite suddenly said this out of the blue after nearly twenty minutes of silence. It’s possible he was saying it to Mel, beside him in the passenger seat of his SUV while he drove, or even just speaking aloud to convince himself to keep going after the long journey.
But the fact that she glanced up to see his eyes in the rear view, looking at her for a response, had her suspect she was indeed the target.
“Still can’t believe you girls never did this. I used to do sugar bushes all the time, schools would do trips,” he continued.
“Neither of us grew up here,” Mel reminded him.
“Went to shacks in university too,” Jayce replied as a counter argument. “A bunch of us guys would pile in a van for a weekend as reset button, taking a break after working yourself half to death before exams kick our asses. And since someone decided to work through reading week,” he met Caitlyn’s eyes in the rear view again, scolding her partly as a friend and partly as a fellow only-child who’d adopted Caitlyn as his surrogate younger sibling to pontificate to, “I think that break has to happen. I’m telling you, this is going to be life changing.”
“It’s pancakes in a log cabin,” Caitlyn said.
Jayce looked unperturbed. “Trust me, it seems simple but the atmosphere does a lot of the heavy lifting. This is a day off I think we all need.”
He reached across to take Mel’s hand where it was resting on her lap, and gave it a squeeze.
Caitlyn leaned back against her headrest, closing her eyes. “I certainly hope so, if we’re driving nearly two hours out to it?”
“Well,” Jayce said, dragging the vowel out through his teeth as he sometimes did. “In my opinion it doesn’t really feel like a vacation if it’s in our neck of the woods. Going to one of the shacks in the valley would be as exciting as going to the movies for an afternoon. And maple syrup is always kind of a Quebec thing.”
Caitlyn didn’t have a counter for that, or any follow up really. So she simply replied with a curt, “Ah.”
“Besides,” Jayce continued cheerily, “the air’s probably a lot cleaner out here. Look at those trees.”
Caitlyn looked out the window again, at the sight of endless trees steadily moving past them as they drove down the highway. It had been the view for the past hour or so, so Jayce was probably correct about the air quality, and it wasn’t like she was completely unused to long car trips.
To be honest, it was less that she was impatient and more that she always felt a bit childish to be riding in the backseat all by herself. Viktor normally came with them for Jayce’s spontaneous outings, helping Caitlyn feel less like a third wheel. Although, admittedly, there were times where things felt more complicated and Caitlyn was a mildly bemused fourth wheel. If there was such a thing.
She frowned at the trees whizzing by, now wondering the origins of ‘third wheeling.’ She unlocked her phone and began to type.
“We should be there in ten minutes,” Jayce said as Caitlyn watched her phone do it’s best to scrounge enough of a connection out here to load up her search results.
“I hope they have coffee there,” Mel sighed.
“They should,” Jayce replied. “Bet they’re in like those big jugs. You know, like company picnics.”
“Coffee out of those things tastes terrible,” Caitlyn said as she skimmed over the mixed search results informing her the original phrase was fifth wheel, and a number of lifestyle articles informing her that being a third wheel was a great and positive thing.
“You know Cait, you’re my favourite buzzkill.”
It was said affectionately, so Caitlyn looked up with an expression of mock distaste, meeting his eyes in the rear view. They both snickered, and Caitlyn sat back to look out the window again.
It must’ve snowed here recently, which at least made the pine-heavy forest along the highway look gorgeous. Caitlyn watched the snow-covered boughs zipping past, zoning out again. She was exhausted from school and work, honestly. Jayce may be right, a combination of carb heavy brunch and fresh nature could be enough to put her in a short coma for the rest of the day and hopefully allow her to get back in top form.
“Turn up here,” Mel said.
“I see it,” Jayce replied, waving a hand to the map on the phone attached the dashboard, and then waved again to the windshield. “But help me keep an eye out for it up here.”
“It’s that up ahead.”
“You sure?”
Mel laughed. “Why else would there be a sign?”
Jayce clicked his tongue in resignation. “Oh, yeah, I see it now.”
He began to slow down, the change in velocity oddly jarring after being at a steady speed for so long. The suv turned off the highway onto the side road, immediately bumping them all in their seats over the uneven lumps of ice and packed snow.
It was a… massaging journey for the next minute or so as they followed the slim and bumpy road winding through all the trees. It eventually opened up to something wider, and then to a spacious clearing amidst all the trees, with a packed field-slash-parking lot to one side and a number of buildings to the other.
The lot was busy, not overwhelmingly but enough that Caitlyn figured this really must be a popular spot. She spotted a few Ontario plates, so they at least weren’t alone; plenty of others thought the trek was worth it.
A girl stopped almost right in front of her to pose so her boyfriend could photograph her in view of the main hall, causing Caitlyn to nearly walk right into her. With a sniff, Caitlyn avoided the couple and moved closer to Jayce’s side opposite Mel, looking up at the main lodge.
Flanked by a thick bush of pine and maple trees on all sides, there were a number of buildings, some the size of a modest garage and one particularly large build of weathered brick with wooden trim. The recent snowfall blanketed everything here with a decorative white layer as well, making the place look obnoxiously picturesque. Considering how the city became just dirty, grey ice by this time of year, Caitlyn had to begrudgingly admit that this was a decent pick in terms of atmosphere.
“It looks fairly modern,” Caitlyn observed with a bit of surprise. She had expected something more rustic, more weathered.
“I told you, it doubles as a wedding venue,” Jayce said. Caitlyn had forgotten he told her that, her mental imagery overwriting that information. “Were you expecting an actual shack?” he teased.
Caitlyn looked at him with a tight-lipped smile, which was obviously confession enough. Sometimes she researched, and sometimes she was confident enough in her assumptions that it felt fruitless to investigate beforehand.
That confidence had only failed her a couple of times, and sadly this was one of them.
Jayce looked smugly pleased, probably glad to have new information and future opportunities to tease her about her sheltered upbringing. But he resisted doing the teasing now, thankfully.
“Alright, we have…” he checked his phone as he continued, “about thirty minutes before breakfast itself. But, don’t give me that look, this place has a bunch of activities we can explore to get us out into nature. There’s a snowshoe trail, wagon ride, the taffy demonstrations every half hour, petting zoo’s probably not for us but they do have one—“
“The wagon seems a good start,” Mel said, slightly interrupting him. “Kick things off with a tour.”
She nodded over to where the wagon was currently parked, a large wheeled platform with benches on top and a bridled horse snorting at its front. The wagon itself was already near filled with passengers, jostling and laughing as they waited.
“Where does it go?” Caitlyn asked.
“Excuse me,” Jayce called up to the young man sitting up front with the horses reins, as they approached. “Where does it take us?”
“Oh, uh,” the man said with a light chuckle. “Just, a, tour. Around.” He emphasized his words with circling his finger in the air. “See the grove and the trees with the taps. A couple stops for the view.”
“A scenic trip,” Mel offered, and the man pointed to her and nodded.
“It’s great for photos,” he said with a wink.
Caitlyn eyed the wagon, the benches already nearly crowded with families and couples jostling and giggling at each other. She scrunched up her nose a bit, not really caring for the idea of sitting cramped to endure scenery and photos. Nature was lovely, but not really something she was interested in spending a lot of time indulging.
“You gonna come?” Jayce’s voice cut through her thoughts. She glanced at him looking at her expectantly, and shook her head.
“I’ll wait here for you,” she said. “I just spent two hours being driven around, I’d like to stretch my legs.”
“She’s scared of horses,” Jayce loudly and dramatically whispered to Mel, earning a scoff from them both that turned to light laughter from all three. Caitlyn gave a light wave and watched them step up onto the wagon to take the remaining seats.
It looked like there was barely any left room left, which validated Caitlyn’s staying behind. She watched the wagon head off, bells jingling over the sounds of the riders talking and laughing, until it turned off the more plowed road onto a path into the forest. Once it was out of sight, Caitlyn turned and looked around the rest of the area to see where she could pass the time.
A playground and what seemed to be a petting area for children populated with rabbits were both clearly out of the question. Which left the gift shop, what looked like a garden gazebo with picnic benches currently populated by a few families, the dining hall, and another unmarked building just past it.
So, Caitlyn decided to take a preemptive look at the dining hall.
It was certainly a gorgeous building on the inside to match the exterior. High ceilings with exposed rafters, faux red maple leaves curling around as decor. Through the wide double doors, Caitlyn could see the main hall itself filled with crowded circular tables, piled with pancakes and syrup bottles as the customers dined.
There was a doorway to one side that Caitlyn peered into, what looked like a bar area without another soul inside.
The reason seemed to be the bar was closed off for the day, maybe only functioning during evening events, though some menus were perched on the counter. She didn’t see the harm in taking a look, she was simply passing the time in a space that was quiet and warm.
Drumming her fingers along the countertop, Caitlyn continued to explore and wandered over to the far wall where a row of framed black and white photographs were hung, with small decorative plaques beneath them.
She was reading one of these plaques, describing tapping techniques under an old photo of two men attaching a bucket to a tree, when the sound of a door opening caught Caitlyn’s attention.
A woman came out of the door just behind the bar, dressed in weathered looking flannel with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. Like a magnet, Caitlyn’s eyes were drawn to the sharp relief of muscles on the woman’s exposed forearms, thick under the folded sleeve cuffs and covered with black tattoo designs that travelled to bring Caitlyn’s attention all the way up the arm to the broad hands holding the box. They looked strong, cross crossed with faded scars, nails trimmed short, a bandage wrapped around the knuckle of one.
“Ah, b’jour,” the woman said, whipping Caitlyn’s attention up to look at her face like a normal person. The woman had dark, reddish hair with a faded pink sheen to it, cut in a short and punkish style with one side shaved and the bangs parted to stick out on the other. There was a smidge of dirt on her cheek, and a ring in her nose, dark makeup shadowing her eyes. She looked like she was halfway between a punk show and a farmhand and it was very, very confusingly attractive.
She then said something that Caitlyn couldn’t quite make out, putting the box on the bar top as she did. Caitlyn played casual, crossing her arms, facing the woman fully and shrugging apologetically.
“I’m, sorry, I don’t speak French.”
A quick blink was her first response. Then a devilish little grin quirked up the corner of the woman’s mouth. “No, with an accent like that I don’t think I should expect you to,” the woman said, her own English barely accented at all. She turned away, beginning to unpack the box’s contents, which seemed to be paper brochures. “Come all this way to check us out?”
“I’m not checking you out,” Caitlyn said quickly, before realizing what the other woman actually meant. “I mean, my friends brought me here. I’m just waiting for them to be done with the horse drawn tour.”
The woman looked over to Caitlyn out of the corner of her eye, Looking like she was about to say something, she instead cleared her throat and shook her head like she had to refocus. “Breakfast is the next room,” she finally said, hoisting up the empty box and turning it over so she could punch through the taped bottom and fold the cardboard.
“I know,” Caitlyn replied, watching her dismantle the box. “Like I told you, I’m waiting for my friends.”
“Vi!”
Another girl’s voice called out, before the same door the pink-haired woman had come through opened and a pale, petite teen with a messy, dyed blue bob shouldered her way through. She was also carrying a large cardboard box, speaking rapidly in French as she came through the door. Caitlyn couldn’t catch a single word to recognize to even begin to work out what she might be saying, but the tone and body language looked like she was scolding the pink-haired one. The taller woman was gesticulating between the shelves and the girl, replying back just as rapidly but grinning as she spoke.
The teen rolled her eyes with a scoff, and with the motion spotted Caitlyn. She suspiciously glanced between the other woman and Caitlyn, and then curtly said to her, “Bonjour.”
That, Caitlyn knew. “Bonjour,” she replied and the teen coughed.
“You need help finding anything?” The girl asked, switching immediately to English. The pink-haired woman snickered, and then let out an ‘oof’ when the girl shoved the box into her arms. “My sister’s not too good with directions.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Caitlyn said with a small smile. “I was just looking.”
“She was just leaving,” the pink-haired sister said.
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow at the annoyed, rude tone. She tried to be the better person and stay diplomatically polite, smiling. “I’m just waiting for my friends to return.”
“You’ll be waiting a while,” the woman said. “That ride takes nearly thirty minutes.”
Caitlyn blinked, thinking she may have misheard. “It what?”
“It’s a big property and people like to take lots of photos.”
Oh. “Shit.” Well, Caitlyn expected to be hanging around while Jayce and Mel got their ideal couple experience in anyway. She had good patience, she’ll just wait it out.
“And you can’t just hang around here, okay?” The woman said, now a bit more curtly. “Bar’s closed.”
“Well the door was open,” Caitlyn countered, crossing her arms. The rejection, which it barely was and yet Caitlyn was taking it that way, stung a little, irritating Caitlyn into refusing to back down. “If you didn’t want anyone back here you should have it shut.”
“We usually don’t have to worry about that. Most clients are smart enough to know where not to go.”
“I wasn’t even trying to order anything, I was just looking.”
“Lots of other places to look. Go look there.”
“If you didn’t want me to look, shutting the door would have accomplished that.”
The woman crossed her arms, making her arms look even broader, and she tilted her head to one side. She had a tattoo on her throat that was exposed from under her collar, more solid back gears that matched the patterns on her bared forearms.
“And what are you here to look at?”
Caitlyn, despite herself, could not help the way her gaze flickered over the woman’s face, arms. As soon as she caught herself, her cheeks warmed and she looked away quickly, staring resolutely at the wall with the frame photos on it. Which was what she had been originally looking at.
The teen was still in the room with them, eyeing the back and forth down like she was worried a fight was about to occur. She lit up, grabbed the rolled cuff of her sister’s sleeve. “Vi, Vi, ici—” The rest was unintelligible, with how quickly she spoke it.
“Eh?” Vi blinked down at the girl, a bewildered expression. She said something back, only for the teen to cut her off with more rapid, and rabid, French, motioning to Caitlyn emphatically and then pointing to Vi, jabbing her in the collar bone.
Caitlyn watched them argue back and forth, feeling a bit put off over the fact she couldn’t understand the conversation that apparently involved her. With a dramatic eye roll, Vi peeled away to face Caitlyn again, hands on her hips.
She gave Caitlyn a deliberate look up and down, like she was scanning for a bomb at the airport and came away like she was disappointed she couldn’t find one.
“Tell you what, city girl, I have to go and do some sap collecting. Why don’t you come along for a quick tour to pass the time while you wait?”
She said it like she was reciting lines, giving a side-eye to the teen, who only looked back at her with a smug smile.
Caitlyn felt she was being inadvertently used for something, tagging along as a punishment or challenge for the other woman to endure. Or maybe the joke was on her, and Vi was resisting to avoid humiliating the English city slicker.
Either way, Caitlyn was more stubborn than they gave her credit for, and wasn’t going to give an inch. She raised herself to stand straight, keeping her expression as pointedly unbothered as she could.
“Sounds lovely,” she said with her most well tuned public speaking voice.
Vi looked like she smelled something awful as she smiled back. “Cool.”
Cool, Caitlyn agreed inwardly. Let’s go be miserable.
She followed Vi outside and around the back of the dining hall toward a haphazard-looking low fence that ringed the perimeter, and then through a gate past it to a small garage.
“We’re using this.”
It was a skidoo, hooked up to a sled trailer filled with multiple large plastic buckets with ‘ERABLE SEULMENT’ scrawled across the white lids in marker.
Caitlyn glanced to the treeline, seeing the pathway of tread tracks leading into the trail.
“We get there by snowmobile?”
“When there’s snow on the ground, yeah.”
Caitlyn laughed before she could stop herself, whipping a hand up to cover her mouth. Vi looked pleased, before turning away so Caitlyn couldn’t see her face. She got on the skidoo first, patting at the portion of the seat behind her. Gingerly, Caitlyn climbed on behind her, and let out an embarrassing shout of surprise when Vi revved forward for half a second, making them and the machine lurch forward.
“You ever been on one of these?” Vi asked, snickering a bit at her own prank.
Caitlyn glared at the back of her head, adjusting her seating and balance. “A couple of times, on ski hills.”
“Tremblant?” Vi twisted in her seat to look back to Caitlyn, then gave her another appraising look up and down. Like that would tell her where Caitlyn attended. “Or Whistler?”
Caitlyn raised an eyebrow. “You’re assuming I’m from BC?”
“I’m assuming you can afford plane tickets,” Vi replied, though she blushed a little. “And those are the only two ski places I know.”
She revved the skidoo’s engine, leaned forward like she was ready to go, and then turned to look at Caitlyn again. “Are you? From BC?” she asked.
Caitlyn wanted to snark back, but she had just realized she was going to need to hold onto Vi for this trip, and was more occupied hesitating where she put her hands. She hovered her palms a distance away from Vi’s waist, waiting for a rebuke.
“If I say I’m from Ontario will you try to throw me off?” she asked, genuinely curious if Vi needed any more excuse to act like Caitlyn’s presence was a punishment.
“Hmm. Depends on which part,” Vi teased back.
Then she revved the throttle again and they lurched forward before Caitlyn could answer. Caitlyn had no choice but to grab Vi’s jacket, bunching the flannel in her fists and press up against Vi’s back, silently thankful she’d worn a supportive bra.
The journey was bumpy, chilly, and fairly loud from the skidoo’s engine, which meant it was also devoid of conversation. It was also gorgeous, once Caitlyn adjusted. Trees of various types and sizes lined the trail, some with ribbons or other little bits of decor, some with suet attached that were being picked at by birds that flocked away as soon as the machine drove up close. After a time they pulled into a clearing surrounded by similarly looking tall trees with buckets hanging off their trucks, and Caitlyn’s attention was drawn to a cardinal sitting on the branch of one, it’s bright red plumage stark against the greys and whites of the forest. It flew off when Vi cut the engine and swung off the skidoo, holding a hand out like she was escorting Caitlyn off a carriage.
“You okay to get your hands dirty, cupcake?”
Ignoring the offered hand and all it implied, Caitlyn slid off the skidoo onto the snow on her own, stiffening her spine to counterbalance the slight wobble in her legs. She straightened out her jacket with an annoyed sniff.
“My name is Caitlyn. Do you speak to all the visitors like this?”
“I usually don’t deal with the clients,” Vi said, winking. “Boss thinks my sunny personality’s too much to handle.”
Crossing her arms, Caitlyn gave Vi a look back, one to communicate how unbothered she was. “I think I’m handling you just fine.”
That got a laugh.
With a wave, Vi guided Caitlyn over to the nearest grouping of trees which sported a couple buckets each; attached via a wire hook setup and a small nozzle coming from the trunk dropping clear liquid.
“This is basically what we’re doing,” Vi said, demonstrating unhooking the pail from the wire looping around the trunk. “Just be a little slow at it so you don’t chip your manicure.”
“What manicure?” Caitlyn asked, holding her hand up for inspection to show her carefully, and purposefully, short trimmed nails that had never seen more than the clippers and file in her bathroom cupboard. Vi looked at them, looked to Caitlyn, looked her up and down again and then back to the nails.
With a little clearing of her throat, Vi just nodded approvingly. “Ah. Then, you’re good.”
Caitlyn hummed, smugly.
Following the guidance Caitlyn flicked open the latch, unhooked the pail and brought it over to the collection jugs to empty alongside Vi, quietly very, grateful to have something to do. She wasn’t sure if she had been ‘invited’, loosely termed, out to this because she was expected to balk at the idea of manual labour, but truthfully it was the opposite. This busywork was far more interesting than just sitting on a rickety wagon taking photos. And Vi seemed to be warming up to her just from her doing the work without complaint, which Caitlyn found more pleasing than she expected.
“Do you work here all year?” Caitlyn asked, trying to make conversation while they emptied pails side by side. When Vi nodded, she followed up with “What do you do when it’s not maple season?”
“We do a lot of weddings, so I mostly keep the grounds maintained for it. Clearing, mowing, stuff like that.” With a wink, Vi unlatched the next bucket. “Chopping wood.”
Fuck. Caitlyn was a simple lesbian. And thus not immune to videos of women chopping wood in sleeveless tops.
Again, her eyes couldn’t help falling to Vi’s exposed forearms in the cold air, the muscles flexing beneath the geometric black ink of her tattoos, the tendons of her hands while she carried the bucket over to the containers in the skidoo cart. The broadness of her upper back underneath the flannel that hinted at the shoulders developed from woodchopping.
When she realized she was just standing there, a collection pail hanging from her hands, Caitlyn quickly adjusted and marched herself over to the wagon to dump the content and snap the pail back to the tree.
“Sounds like a lot of physical work,” she said, clearing her throat as she tried to block the mental image.
“I prefer physical work,” Vi replied.
Caitlyn was certain Vi grunted louder than she needed to when taking the next sap pail off. They weren’t that heavy.
They continued on like this, Vi driving them forward a few more meters to the next circle of trees to start collecting while they chatted idly. Caitlyn asked Vi if she enjoyed the work, which she genuinely seemed to. Vi asked Caitlyn what she did and Caitlyn hummed avoidantly about being in school still, though redirecting when Vi asked what for. People were always odd about her enrolling in criminology, and she didn’t care to ruin the morning.
Not when she was starting to actually enjoy herself.
“Do you grow up around here?” she asked. Vi nodded.
“Yep, in a small town just nearby. Vander’s owned this place since the nineties, and he knew my parents. He’s like my uh… fuck, what do you call it. Godfather. Got custody of me and my sister when my folks died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Caitlyn said, not sure what else to add. Vi just shrugged, like it was long enough ago to only be worth mention. Caitlyn tried to keep the conversation going, leaning against the tree Vi just finished working on. “Your sister was the girl back at the dining hall?”
“Yep, that’s Poudre.”
Caitlyn frowned, certain she hadn’t heard that right.
Vi watched her for a second, obviously waiting for a follow up reaction, and then snickered and let out a bright laugh that exploded from her like she couldn’t contain it anymore. “It’s ‘Powder’. It’s actually not,” she downright giggled, shoulders raising as she shook her head at Caitlyn’s very confused expression. “It’s not her real name. It’s a long story.”
She unhitched a pail, almost slipping on a patch of ice and spilling the sap all over herself, but caught just in time. Unbothered, she kept speaking as she went to pour it into the collection.
“Her real name’s Pippa, don’t know why my mom picked it. Don’t call her it,” Vi added, with a finger in the air. “She hates it. We joked and started calling her ‘Pepper’ as an alternative, which she also hates, then Poivre which she really hates and then it somehow switched to Powder.”
“Which she also hates?” Caitlyn asked, hopeful. Because what a ridiculous name.
“Dunno if she likes it, but she’s okay with it. Better than Pippa anyway.”
Caitlyn laughed. “And does ‘Vi’ have a similar long and complicated backstory?”
“Nope.” Vi punctuated the word with the metallic snap of the latch to reattach the bucket to the tree. “That’s just the first two letters of my full name.”
“What’s your full name?”
Vi seemed to hesitate, focusing on unhooking the next bucket she was holding. “Violet,” she finally said.
Caitlyn smiled, looking the woman over, with her rugged, broad shoulder’d appearance, working boots and half a shaved, dyed mullet. “I can see it. You look like a Violet.”
A short laugh was Vi’s response. “Yeah. Real delicate and flowery.”
“Violets are actually quite stubborn and hardy plants, hardly delicate.”
“Really?”
Honestly, Caitlyn had no fucking idea, it had just slipped out because it felt like a compliment Vi would want to hear.
She didn’t flirt like this normally, alternating between coyly testing boundaries and lamely playing the sweetheart. Caitlyn was used to being direct — you like what you see, I like what I see, let’s continue this elsewhere. She was used to being pursued, completely aware that yes, while she was good looking, her name and money were the most attractive parts of her. She had only ever really flirted reciprocally, because she had never had to otherwise.
Caitlyn had never felt the urge to flirt with someone who, at least at first, didn’t like her back. Maybe it was the notion that Vi was prickly on such an honest level, without knowing anything about her, that was so alluring it was driving Caitlyn to lustful idiocy. She felt dangerously close to just feeling up Vi’s arm and giggling.
Even just the sarcastic idea of it in her mind made Caitlyn’s palms itch to test the firmness of the other woman’s bicep.
“It’s also my favourite colour,” Caitlyn then found herself saying.
When she dared a glance she could see Vi’s cheeky grin widen, even as the other women ducked her head away shyly.
Oh.
Like a switch had flipped, Caitlyn suddenly felt a wave of shyness pass over herself too. It had gone past mutually acknowledging each other as attractive under a veneer of animosity. This was beyond teasing, “you like what you see”. This was just genuine flirting now, wasn’t it?
She wanted Vi to like her.
They finished the rounds in relative silence after that. Satisfied with the filled cart, Vi drove them to a small log cabin, which was merrily decorated in pine, maple leaves and other woodsy looking additions with a picnic table out front and untouched snow all around. Cutting the snowmobile engine, Vi swung off, slapping her palms together. With a stretch of her back, she turned to Caitlyn with a smile that seemed far less smug and made Caitlyn feel warm.
“Alright, that’s the last,” Vi said, taking a step backwards. “We get these ones around the cabin and we go back in time for you to meet up with your friends.”
She made it three more steps then almost comically had her feet slip up from under her from a patch of ice. Before Caitlyn could even react, Vi fell sideways onto the ground with a loud smack!
With a pained shout, Vi rolled onto her backing, grabbing onto the hand that she had landed on, loudly cursing.
Those were words Caitlyn recognized.
She quickly ran over to Vi’s side, a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“Fell on my wrist wrong,” Vi said. She held it up, gripped in her other hand, for them to look at. It didn’t appear broken but the skin was an angry red.
“Nothing broken,” she added, although Caitlyn could see she was clearly in pain. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m just—“ she tried to flex her hand and hissed. “Tabarnak.”
“Can I see?”
“You got X-ray eyes, doc?” Vi said curtly, but she lifted her arm for Caitlyn to take, hissing when Caitlyn’s fingers touched the skin. Caitlyn ignored the sour attitude, pressing slightly at the tendons and joint of the wrist to feel for anything broken. Vi snatched her hand back.
“Hey, hey, hey, okay, it’s bad. Don’t have to keep testing.”
“It’s a sprain or a hairline fracture,” Caitlyn said, assessing best she could. “Nothing serious but you need to rest it and get it looked at.”
Vi muttered under her breath, still lightly pressing her thumb in various places like she could massage the wrist back to health. She tried to close her hand in a fist and winced, uncurling her fingers again.
Then she looked up at the snowmobile, an expression of dawning realization on her face.
With a hopeful glance to Caitlyn, Vi nodded to the skidoo. “You know how to drive one of these things?”
Caitlyn doesn’t. She looked the machine over, and then back to Vi to apologetically shake her head. Vi grimaced.
“Ah, merde, okay.” Still holding her wrist she winced, grit her teeth and tried to close her hand into a fist. Her face twisted in obvious pain.
“Vi, you’re going to make it worse,” Caitlyn scolded. When the other woman didn’t listen, Caitlyn reached forward to close her hand around Vi’s, squeeze her fingers. “Stop it.”
Relaxing her hand under Caitlyn’s grip, Vi looked up to Caitlyn and they both seemed to hold their breath in the moment. Vi’s pupils were heavily dilated, likely due to the pain, and met Caitlyn’s with a near magnetic force, holding her in place. She had so many freckles, Caitlyn couldn’t help notice, a stray bit of hair against her nose that begged to be brushed aside, a calloused bit of skin on her plush bottom lip like she chewed it too often.
Clearing her throat, Caitlyn gently but quickly pulled her hand away and stood up, cheeks burning. It was one thing to flirt with an attractive employee over the safe distance of working on a task together. It was something else entirely to get that close, physically, and let herself be distracted by her attraction. There were boundaries.
Vi coughed, rubbing her good thumb against her injured wrist. She sighed, sounding pained. “Well we can’t get out of here then. That’s a hand throttle. Kinda need this.” She held up her hand, glaring at it like she could will it to heal.
“Oh,” Caitlyn said, feeling a bit stupid. She’d sat behind Vi while they drove, after all, should have noticed. She looked to the machine again. “I could give it a shot.”
“I’d, uh, rather not risk the liability. Or my skidoo.”
“I’m a fast learner.” It shouldn’t be that difficult. Caitlyn had excellent motor control and hand-eye coordination, she should be able to handle a slow speed. And the thing wasn’t as precarious as a motorcycle, she only had to focus on keeping a low speed without worrying about balance.
“No, no,” Vi huffs, “my dad will kill me. I just need to ice it a minute.”
Caitlyn turned back to Vi to see she was, quite literally, laying her wrist down on the icy ground, packing some more snow overtop.
“Oh, come on,” Caitlyn scoffed, “you can’t just—“
“Can’t what?” Vi joked, grinning that endearingly infuriating grin again.
“You need proper medical attention!”
“It needs to be iced,” said Vi, motioning to her snow-covered wrist. “I’m icing it.”
Caitlyn frowned at her. Certainly the worst part of this was how Vi looked right now, her hair messily covering half her face, freckles clear in the bright sun, proud grin over her idiotic solution to this problem. It was maddeningly attractive. It was distracting, the woman was injured and Caitlyn had to fight to keep glaring at her instead of succumbing to the urge to tuck her hair behind her ear.
Despite the grin though, Vi did then sigh like she was being scolded, nodding. ”There’s a first aid in the cabin. Probably something there to help me drive.”
“Why don’t you call your sister? Perhaps she can help get us back.”
The look Vi gave Caitlyn made it very clear the woman was humouring her, but she rolled a shoulder and nodded with a sigh. “Kind of a busy day,” she said. “But, I should let them know. Gonna help me up?”
Caitlyn held a hand out for Vi to take with her good one to help her stand, and tried not to focus on the strength of the grip. A little unbalanced, Vi leaned in close on with the movement, nearly up against Caitlyn’s shoulder before swaying back.
She moved towards the log cabin, stomping up the steps and opening the door. “Come on.”
“Is this an actual cabin?” Caitlyn asked. She had thought it was maybe one of those utility buildings designed to look like a cabin for aesthetic reasons.
“Yep. We got a couple on the property, actually rent them out for camping,” Vi said, kicking her boot against the doorframe to get some of the packed snow off. “In the off seasons. Think we make as much over Christmas from rentals as we do this time of year.”
Caitlyn entered the cabin after her, taking in the musty, woody smell and the rustic decor that she suspected was more deliberate than it tried to let on. It was a one-room little shack, barely larger than an RV, with a wood stove in one corner and a twin bed shoved into the other. Vi sat down on the bed, still holding her wrist and wincing. Caitlyn shut the door and leaned against it, arms crossed, watching Vi take her phone from her pocket.
Vi tapped at the screen and then held it up with her good hand, cocking her head to the side and staring off into the distance until Caitlyn heard a girl’s voice “Oui? Saykwah.” distantly from the other end of the call.
“J’besoin Vander,” Vi said. She was quiet for a moment until Caitlyn heard a man’s voice on Vi’s phone.
Vi began speaking, her French so rapid Caitlyn could barely catch the individual words, alternating between laughing and sounding deeply annoyed. It looked as though she was trying very hard not to gesture with her bad wrist, shoulder jerking on occasion and without the dialogue for Caitlyn to focus on she found her attention drifting to Vi’s body language.
She had a very assertive posture, legs spread as she leaned forward on her knee, shoulders raised under her shirt as she spoke. Used to needing to demand being listened to. It was such an interesting shift from that playfully annoyed, and annoying, way she had been acting around her sister and Caitlyn.
“Caitlyn,” Vi said suddenly, looking up. “Who’re you here with, and what time were you supposed to eat?”
“11:30,” Caitlyn replied. “Under Jayce Talis.”
Vi nodded and repeated that into her phone. She spoke more slowly then, listening to the speaker on the other end, so it was easier for Caitlyn to catch some individual words she knew — oui, bien, d’accord.
Then Vi finally hung up with an annoyed huff, groaning.
“He’ll tell your friend that you’re safe but you’ll be missing breakfast until we can go,” she said. Caitlyn stared back at her.
“He’s not sending someone out? Your wrist needs attention.”
Vi laughed, surprisingly, a full on bright and loud laugh that lit her up. “I’m not dying,” she said with a beaming grin. “Hurts like shit, but I’d notice if it was really bad. It’ll be fine in a bit, but we’re swamped, can’t spare bodies when it’s not a real emergency.“
Caitlyn frowned.
“Just need to rest it for a minute and we’ll head out,” said Vi.
“We absolutely will not, you’ll make it worse. We need to wrap it at the very least. You said there was a kit here?”
“Yeah, over in that cupboard,” Vi waved to the row hanging above the kitchen counter. Caitlyn went to the cabinet Vi mentioned, opening it to see the worn looking plastic box. Taking it out to inspect its contents, she was happy to find a roll of tensor bandage inside. She formed the plan in her head, she’d tend to the injury first and then convince Vi she absolutely shouldn’t push things and just let Caitlyn drive the damn snowmobile.
“Sorry about making you wait out here,” Vi said behind her, unaware of Caitlyn’s scheming.
“No, it’s alright.” Crossing the small space, she sat down on the bed beside Vi and gave her a small smile before looking away. “I wasn’t really looking forward to it,” she admitted, staring down at the bandage in her hand. She felt Vi turn to look at her.
“Came all the way out here without looking forward to it?” Vi asked. Caitlyn shrugged.
“Give me your hand,” she said, holding out hers.
Vi gingerly lay her injured wrist in Caitlyn’s palm, wincing and cursing under her breath again when Caitlyn began to apply the pressure needed to start the bandage.
“Why weren’t you looking forward to it?” Vi pressed. Caitlyn almost frowned and shut down the conversation, but she realized Vi needed a secondary distraction while they worked, to keep her mind off the pain.
“My friend wanted to come, but he’s also here with his girlfriend,” she said. “I feel a bit like I’m just tagging along. It’s typically four of us but Viktor couldn’t make it.”
“That your boyfriend?”
Caitlyn laughed lightly at the direct questioning, giving Vi a quick sidelong glance. “No, not at all,” she said. “But you dragging me along,” even if it was at some teen girl’s insistent goading, “and making me be a part of the labour was much more enjoyable than just sitting around. I don’t regret being stuck here.”
As she spoke she delicately but firmly looped the wrap around the curve of Vi’s thumb and made a show of pressing it down with the pads of her fingers, softly grazing them against the skin of Vi’s palm. For all the manual labour Vi did, her hands were quite soft and Caitlyn had to really focus on her wrapping because she could get lost running her fingers over all the details. Vi had quite a lot of faded scars, tattoos that went nearly to her wrist Caitlyn wanted to ask about, faded impressions of rings that had her picturing how Vi might dress when she wasn’t working the farm, if she took Vi out to the city.
“I think that should do the trick,” Caitlyn said thickly, finishing up the wrapping and tucking the end to keep it secured. She kept her eyes directed down at Vi’s hand, oddly nervous to look up. But Vi was so quiet, and Caitlyn couldn’t sit like this forever, so she dared a glance, catching her breath.
Vi was watching her, not her hands but her face, eyes soft and catching Caitlyn’s again in the hold.
The eye contact seemed to break the trance, and Vi blinked away, looking to her hand still held in Caitlyn’s fingers.
“Thanks,” she said softly.
“Don’t mention it,” Caitlyn said, letting go, dropping her hands to rest on her lap. Steeling herself to argue her case for driving the snowmobile, ruin this tentative calm between them.
“Hey,” Vi said suddenly very quickly, nudging Caitlyn with her shoulder. “I know what we should do.”
Without another word she stood up, and went back outside without even looking to see if Caitlyn was following. She also didn’t close the door properly, either out of carelessness, to goad Caitlyn into getting up to shut it, or simply that confident that Caitlyn would be right behind her.
Caitlyn found that expectation endearingly irritating.
She did follow.
Vi was taking one of the buckets out from the syrup cart, using only her good hand with her sprained one clutched close to her chest. Caitlyn tutted, going to grab it from her but Vi only lifted it out of reach, grinning to her.
“What are you doing?” Caitlyn asked, shadowing close to Vi as they walked right back into the cabin.
“You came here for syrup,” Vi said, dropping container on the small counter by the sink. “You’re getting syrup.”
She pulled a pot out from the cupboard and then fiddled with the little gas strove, refusing any help from Caitlyn until she got it lit and the pot on top of the burner. Only then did she sheepishly ask for Caitlyn’s help with lifting the bucket to pour some of the sap into the pot until it was two thirds of the way full.
“What else?” Caitlyn asked watching Vi swirl the liquid in the pot and adjust the heat.
“Boil it and wait. Keep it at a low simmer, stir occasionally so it doesn’t burn. Pretty simple, though, it’ll take a bit,” Vi said. “About as long as my hand needs.”
“Isn’t this stealing?” Caitlyn asked, pushing hard to try and get the lid back onto the sap bucket. Vi shooed her away, quite literally punching at the edges of the lid to seal it on, standing and shaking the soreness from her hand.
“Nope, you paid for a sugar bush experience. This covers it.“
“Are you going to make me pancakes as well?”
Vi opened her mouth, looking ready to say something, and then laughed. “I’ll have to owe you,” she said.
Caitlyn couldn’t help but laugh herself, feeling warm as she thought about slyly suggesting future opportunities. She bit them back, going over to the small bed to sit down on it again. Vi sat beside her, just close enough they weren’t touching, and Caitlyn took in a deep breath, feeling like she was going to go insane very soon from the overwhelming, alien feeling of a crush making her nervous.
“What do we do while we wait?”
“Hmm.”
“Let me see your hand again,” said Caitlyn said, feigning medical treatment for an excuse to touch her. Now that they had broached the initial contact she couldn’t help wanting to toe the line. Pretend Vi had somehow loosened the bandage and it needed to be fussed over again.
Their hands were nearly the same size - Vi’s palm larger but Caitlyn’s fingers longer. She almost flattened her hand against Vi’s to compare before remembering that would strain the tendons at the wrist, so she cleared her throat and gingerly released Vi’s hand instead.
“You could teach me French,” Caitlyn suggested. She couldn’t really think of anything else, but she needed something distracting before she combusted.
Vi chuckled. “Alright. What do you want to know?”
“Well I already know the basics: greetings, directions, numbers,”
“Swears?”
“Swears,” Caitlyn repeated, laughing. “Just enough to get by. But not a lot outside of that. What about…” she glanced to the pot on the stove, “the word for syrup?”
Vi looked amused before she answered. “It’s actually just sirop,” she said, the word sounding almost identical but somehow also French.
“Say-rup,” Caitlyn pronounced, laughing. “Alright then, what about ‘maple’?”
“Érable,” said Vi.
“Eh-rah-bull,” Caitlyn attempted.
“Bleh,” Vi corrected. “B-L-E, but the ‘e’ is almost silent.”
“That’s what I said. Bluh.”
“No, no, ble,” Vi said with a laugh. “Emphasize the ‘l’ more too. It’s all in your tongue, French is very tongue heavy.”
“I’m quite good with my tongue, I’ll have you know.”
Vi, bless her, was blushing ferociously but not backing away. In fact she leaned in slightly closer, grinning like they were sharing an old joke. “Then show me. Érable.”
“Érablah,” Caitlyn attempted, over-emphasizing the ‘l’ this time. Vi continued to stare at Caitlyn’s mouth, now that she had the excuse to, and she nodded.
“Close enough, cupcake. Okay try this one: sucré.”
“Soo-crah,” Caitlyn repeated, slowly sounding it out. She was aware she was leaning in closer, that Vi had inched nearer, their thighs so close she could feel the warmth through the jeans they both wore.
“Close, but with an ‘ay’ sound. Su-cray.”
The word was like an exhale between them, each time drawing them in closer. Their shoulders were touching now, too many layers to feel the warmth but pressing all the same.
She could feel Vi’s breath on her face now as she said the word again, the space between them a little smaller. “Sucré.”
“Sucré,” Caitlyn’s voice was coming out unintentionally whispery now.
“Good.” Vi’s voice had also lowered to a near whisper. Their heads were leaning in close, like they were sharing a secret.
“What does it mean?” asked Caitlyn, trying to look Vi in the eyes still, and not be so obvious watching Vi’s mouth shape out the words. She was failing miserably.
“Sweet.”
“Oh,” Caitlyn breathed out. They were so close now eye contact was basically impossible, all of Vi’s features blurry. Caitlyn closed her eyes, surrendering to whatever happened next. “Sucré,” she said one last time, feeling the syllables brushing her lips against Vi’s before the millimetres of distance remaining were crossed.
The first kiss was ticklishly gentle, but when Caitlyn didn’t move away the second was much bolder. Vi pressed forward, her good hand coming up to bury itself in Caitlyn’s hair, fingertips flexing against the roots. She sought to cover Caitlyn’s lips with her own, and Caitlyn was happily encouraged to kiss back, opening her mouth to deepen it.
The conflict between permission to indulge and wanting to be mindful of Vi’s injury and previous hesitancy felt to Caitlyn like trying to stay balanced on a patch of ice. She felt so close to slipping up; gripping her own fist in Vi’s hair, using her teeth, pressing in closer to taste more, feel all of her.
Vi seemed less concerned, her injured hand coming up to press against the small of Caitlyn’s back.
Caitlyn felt the pressure, and then the hiss Vi made when the pain must’ve lanced. Drawing away from the kiss, Caitlyn grasped Vi’s hand to catch it.
“Your wrist,” she said,
“It’s fine, barely feel it,” Vi lied, her voice lower and slightly breathy from the kissing. With a light sigh, Caitlyn took Vi’s hand off her waist and returned it to rest against Vi’s chest.
“Don’t ruin my hard work wrapping that up,” she scolded, teasing. Vi swallowed, licked her lips while staring at Caitlyn’s mouth, then up again to meet her eyes.
“Then come here,” she said.
She tugged Caitlyn by the arm and then the waist, with only her good hand, pulling Caitlyn over to sit on her. Caitlyn went willingly, bracketing her legs around Vi’s lap.
Vi’s arms had been what had mostly gotten Caitlyn’s attention but god. Her thighs were pure muscle.
Caitlyn took full advantage of the new position to grab Vi’s face in both hands and kiss her again. The only downside of this was the angle made Caitlyn even taller, forced her to curve her back and Vi to crane up. Vi tugged Caitlyn’s hair lightly then, encouraged her to relax so Vi could mouth at her neck, kissing soft and wet and then with teeth; the sensation sending such a jolt through Caitlyn she moaned without thinking, squeeze her thighs against Vi’s.
Vi chuckled against Caitlyn’s throat, and that vibrated through Caitlyn’s bones good as anything. She gripped at Vi’s hair, felt her nip and press her teeth again, and Caitlyn cursed softly under her breath.
She had to kiss Vi again, before things got out of control, but she went in too fast. They fell backwards onto the bed, still attached, Caitlyn resting on her elbows on either side of Vi’s head. She dimly realized Vi’s injured hand was squashed between both their chests, worried the pressure might be hurting it.
“Your wrist,” she began to say.
“Is right where it wants to be,” Vi murmured, kissing her again with enthusiastic hunger. Her good hand roamed, fisted in Caitlyn’s, cupped the back of her neck, dragged down to do its best scratching along Caitlyn’s back through the multiple layers of clothing.
Caitlyn decided she was too warm.
She arched her back upwards so she could continue the kissing but had enough space to reach between their bodies and unzip her jacket, fight the sleeves to get it off. The position pressed her hips more insistently against Vi’s, the stiffness of the jean zipper conspiring against Caitlyn’s composure. Against Vi’s too, maybe, with the way Caitlyn wriggled to settle her weight had Vi tilting her hips up against her, lightly groaning into her mouth.
The contrast of the cold air and the heat of Vi beneath her, the rough fabric of her jeans against her thighs and the textile of Vi’s flannel under her hands as Caitlyn finally dared to grip and squeeze her arm. The strength apparent in her muscles compared to the soft, gentle way Vi’s hand was carding through her hair.
Caitlyn rocked her hips, shifted her legs to slide one between Vi’s so she was pressing against her every time she moved. Vi’s hand went from her hair to grip at Caitlyn’s hip, then more boldly to her ass. Caitlyn groaned. She pushed her knee up harder, felt Vi moan against her, felt Vi’s hand grip and push Caitlyn’s ass down in response, until they had an unfocused rhythm going.
It got to a point where Caitlyn couldn’t focus on more than one thing, pulling away from the kiss to gasp against Vi’s panting mouth.
Both of them ground against each other, Vi’s hand pushing to add force to Caitlyn’s motion, squeezing so hard Caitlyn had the distant wonder of if she was going to bruise. The thought of it, finger-shaped marks pressed into her skin made her breath catch.
Caitlyn dropped her forehead to Vi’s collarbone with a shaky whimper as every nerve shuddered.
She felt Vi continue to push her, move against her, chasing the feeling. Her hand left Caitlyn’s ass to bury in her hair again, gripping harder this time, pushing Caitlyn towards her for a kiss. Caitlyn melted into it, enjoying the energy as she drifted back to her senses and realize what had spiralled between them.
Was she really doing this? Making out to the point of dry humping with a lumberjack in a sugar bush cabin?
There was something patriotic about it, honestly, Caitlyn thought suddenly. The idea had her giggle into the kiss, and once she started she couldn’t stop.
“Quoi? What?” Vi asked, running her fingers through Caitlyn’s hair. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Caitlyn tried to say, burying her face against the crook of Vi’s neck to muffle her laughter. Vi smelled addictively good, coconut shampoo and a bit of sweat.
“What is it?” Vi tried again. “What I do?”
“You didn’t do anything,” Caitlyn said, pressing a kiss to Vi’s jaw, cheek, mouth. “I just wasn’t expecting this.”
Vi looked like she was about to say something, but she began laughing instead. “Me neither,” she admitted. “But I like it.”
She tugged Caitlyn down and kissed her again, slow, indulgently at first. But the contagious laughter caught up to them both, soon making the kissing difficult.
Then Vi gasped like she’d been wounded, and Caitlyn immediately shot up. Vi’s wrist, shit, she’d forgotten to be careful.
Vi sat up, looking startled but not in pain.
“Shit, the syrup!”
Luckily, the pot hadn’t been neglected too long by their distraction, the contents of it fairly evaporated but not burnt. Vi swirled it around, judging the consistency.
“We’re good,” she said, turning the stove off. She leaned against the counter, running a hand through her hair, cheeks flushed. “Just, ah, just give it a minute.”
Caitlyn combed her fingers through her own hair, certain it looked a mess. Now that they were separated again, standing apart, she was aware of the chill in the air and picked up her jacket to put it back on, having to fight with one sleeve that got turned outside in her rush to remove it. Despite the cold her face still felt hot, the lingering effects of the makeout session still thrumming in her blood.
She looked to Vi, who smiled up at her and they both chuckled a bit shyly. Vi busied herself opening a couple drawers to collect the rest of the supplies, handing them to Caitlyn and then grabbing the pot.
“We’re lucky it snowed fresh this morning too, can just use this right here,” Vi said when they got outside. She took the supplies putting the cozy on the table before resting the steaming pot on top. “Ready?”
Caitlyn knew how this worked, but it still felt a little surreal to watch Vi lift and tilt the pot to pour the boiling syrup directly onto the snowy tabletop. She did it in a few quick, short lines, before returning it to the cozy and picking up the popsicle sticks to hand a couple over.
“And this part’s all you. Like this.”
Vi demonstrated pressing one end of the popsicle stick into the line of syrup and begin twisting it, folding the quickly cooling taffy over and over until she had a sticky, gooey-looking lollipop.
Caitlyn tried to mimic her, pressing down too lightly at first, and watching as her attempt pathetically peeled away from the wooden stick back onto the snow when she tried to fold it over. Frowning, Caitlyn jabbed at the toffee harder to force it to stick.
“Kids do this easy,” Vi joked, watching the attempt.
“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Caitlyn shot back, laughing.
She did not have it.
Her taffy looked grotesque compared to Vi’s much more practiced one when it was finished, all lumps with snow crystals attached. She held it beside Vi’s for comparison, bemused.
“It all tastes the same,” Vi said, sticking her taffy in her mouth. She smiled to Caitlyn with the stick jutting from her lips, giving the impression she was smoking comically wide cigarette.
Caitlyn popped hers in her mouth.
It was delicious. Cold on her tongue from the snow but quickly warming in her mouth, the sugar dissolving into concentrated maple flavour. Caitlyn bit off a bit of the soft taffy, chewing it as she enjoyed the flavour and watched Vi enjoy hers.
Vi licked her lips, drawing Caitlyn’s attention. Licking her own, Caitlyn leaned against the picnic table and smiled coyly.
“Could I try yours?”
Vi pulled the taffy from her mouth and looked from it to Caitlyn with interest. Silently, she held her hand holding the stick out, offering it.
Caitlyn smiled and lightly pushed Vi’s hand aside, leaning in to kiss her instead. She flicked her tongue against Vi’s lips, encouraging her to open up so Caitlyn could taste the lingering, sugary flavour of maple in her mouth. Pulling back, with a second linger peck to the corer of Vi’s lips, Caitlyn smiled.
“Sucré,” she said, and Vi laughed, dropping her taffy onto the picnic table to properly bury her now free hand around the back of Caitlyn’s neck and tug her in for another kiss.
The skidoo engine’s growled and whined slightly as Caitlyn slowed it down. The machine jerked unhappily when she released the throttle too quickly, causing Vi to hiss behind her at the jolt. But a glance behind showed the trailer still intact and all the containers upright and lidded, so even the rough stop was clearly successful.
“I gotta deduct points for that bump back there,” Vi said, patting Caitlyn’s arm. “But otherwise a passing grade.”
“I didn’t put it there!” Caitlyn protested. Vi laughed, and Caitlyn huffed, getting off the snowmobile, pretending to be more offended than she actually was. “I think I drove that just fine, thank you.”
“Cait!”
She looked up to see Jayce jogging towards them, Mel and a larger, older man walking behind. He looked utterly relieved, like she’d be lost at sea instead of just momentarily stuck in the forest.
“I’m alright,” Caitlyn said, holding a hand up to keep him from diving into a bear hug. “She’s the one that got damaged.”
“Violet,” the man said to Vi, pronouncing her name in the softer French with smiling in a friendly way that made Caitlyn believe this must be the Vander Vi mentioned. “C’est bien?”
“Bien,” Vi answered. He then said something else to her that must’ve been teasing, because Vi balked.
“Did you have fun?” Mel asked Caitlyn as the others spoke, looking between her and Vi. She had the look of scrutiny she usually got when calling Jayce out on something. Caitlyn wasn’t used to being the target of it.
“Explored the forest a bit,” she said, feeling oddly like she was trying to cover up a crime. “Helped her collect the sap. It was educational, really.”
“Mmhmm. She just called you pretty,” Mel said quietly, leaning in. She raised her eyebrow. “And I don’t believe you had that bruise this morning.”
Caitlyn cleared her throat, tucking her hair over her shoulder to cover the indicated spot on the side of her neck.
“We couldn’t take any of the food to go,” Jayce apologized, holding up a small canvas bag with maple leaves printed on the side. “But there were cookies at the gift shop, so I picked some of those up along with a bunch of the syrup.”
“Certainly more than you’ll need,” Mel said with a light laugh. Jayce just grinned, handing the bag over.
“Thank you,” Caitlyn said, taking the offering. She was, admittedly, starving. Especially after all that physical exertion of the labour and, well...
The skidoo engine growled behind them, and Caitlyn turned to see Vander was now driving it, bringing the wagon up to one of the garages. Vi had stayed behind, gingerly holding her sore wrist, watching the cart go and then looking to Caitlyn with enough fondness to make her heart flutter.
“Hey,” Vi said softly. Caitlyn smiled, held out her hand.
“Your bandage is coming loose.” It wasn’t. “Could I see?”
Vi placed her hand on Caitlyn’s waiting grasp, stepping close enough so Caitlyn could feign adjusting the fabric.
“Go ice that,” Caitlyn said, rubbing her thumb over Vi’s palm again. “With an ice pack not a snowball. Before you render it completely useless.”
“Yes ma’am,” Vi joked with a chuckle. She glanced out of the corner of her eye to the mostly indifferent, busy crowd milling around them, then smiled and laid her good hand overtop the Caitlyn’s. She gave it a squeeze, her palm warm against Caitlyn’s fingers.
This was goodbye, Caitlyn realized. She knew it would happen, even if she didn’t want it. But she couldn’t stay, she had to leave with her friends.
“Please,” Caitlyn said, still struggling with this newfound infatuation, the odd feeling of shyness around a woman who’s had her tongue down her throat. “You’ll let me know about those cabins, won’t you? The summer rates?”
She looked to Vi, who was grinning that devilishly attractive, lopsided grin. ”Yeah, I got your number,” Vi said with a casual shrug. “I’ll let you know. See what kind of deals I can arrange.”
Caitlyn squeezed her hand gently. “Thank you.”
Vi moved her hand up to cup Caitlyn’s cheek, study her face for a second while she seemed to debate whether to kiss Caitlyn one final time or not. Caitlyn understood the hesitancy of being so out in the open, and leaned into the warmth of Vi’s palm, memorizing the feel of it. She was confident they were going to see each other again but she wanted to absorb as much of this contact as she could.
After a moment Vi drew her hand back and began to walk away, taking a few steps like she needed to force herself before finally turning with a wave. Caitlyn turned to go, seeing Jayce pointing at her. He pointed to Vi’s back, pointed to Caitlyn again, eyebrows high and a tempered grin wide on his face. She rolled her eyes at him in response, which only prompted him to grin wider.
They began walking down to the wide, slightly muddier now in the sunlit melt, grassy lot for the parked cars, Caitlyn stealing one last look behind her.
Powder had jogged up to Vi, and seemed to be prodding her both with questions and quite literally with her finger. Vi berated her back. Caitlyn really had to get more familiar with the language because she had absolutely no idea if they were angry or if that was just how they communicated.
She decided to assume the latter when Vi turned with a smile to give her one last wave, like she and her sister had just been particularly animated discussing the weather.
Smiling, Caitlyn waved back and headed to rejoin her friends at Jayce’s SUV.
“Did you both have fun, at least?” Caitlyn asked, buckling herself in and sliding the door closed.
“We did. It was very romantic, being out in those woods. Isn’t it?” Mel turned in her seat to wink to Caitlyn behind her.
Caitlyn rolled her eyes but smiled fondly. “A bit, I’d say.”
About fifteen minutes into them turning onto the highway for the long trip home, Caitlyn had opened a pack of the cookies to nibble on for sustenance. Her phone buzzed with a notification, and she unlocked it to see a text from an unknown number saying simply
Hey. It’s your favourite colour.
Oh, what a cheesy line. What a warmth it bloomed in her chest. Caitlyn was a goner.
She smiled bashfully.
Bonjour, she typed back.
“Is that her?” Jayce asked, because he apparently couldn’t stay out of gossip or meddling in Caitlyn’s life for five seconds.
“I can’t believe you almost didn’t come with us,” Mel said. “And yet despite nothing going to plan you came away with a woman’s number.”
“I’m surprised though, Cait. Thought you didn’t do long distance?” Jayce asked, teasingly. “Gonna tell us what makes her so special?”
Caitlyn looked up to make eye contact through the rear view, challenging her friend to keep teasing her about the subject. “How do you think her wrist got sprained?” she said bluntly.
There was dead silence in the car for a moment, before Mel made the choked snort of someone holding back laughter and Jayce let out a very loud “Okay!”
Caitlyn laughed to herself, settling back in her seat to prepare to rest for the long trip back. She felt her phone buzz with a new notification, though she didn’t check it just yet. She wanted to bask in this a little longer.
“You were right, though, Jayce,” she said, watching the trees whizz past the window. “It was a great day.”