Untraceable

Survival Skill #18

If you are unfamiliar with an area, avoid getting boxed in or isolated.

~

I blush at the nickname and duck into the tunnel. As soon as I pop out the other side, I gasp.

Walls of glittering rock surround us covered in patches of painted trillium and purple phacelia. The creek we passed earlier has relaxed some, allowing tiny waterfalls to trickle over clusters of smooth boulders.

I lower my guard and squeal in delight. “I’ve died and gone to flyfishing heaven.”

Mo arches his left eyebrow in surprise. “Does that mean you haven’t been here before?”

I love how he pronounces been as “bean.” Ignoring his question, I circle the area, staring up at the rocky towers encasing us.

“Well?” he presses.

I throw my hands up in the air. “Okay, fine! You win.”

A beam of triumph sparks across his face and he cups his hand behind his ear. “Sorry, but could you say that a tad louder?”

Playing along, I yell. “I said … you WIN!”

Mo’s smile brightens up even more. “A day to note in history, I’m sure.”

I gawk in amazement at the pure beauty surrounding me. “I’ve lived here a long time and have never seen anything like this before.”

“The Smokies are huge. Did you really think you knew every place out here?” He trails his fingers along the moist wall encasing us and pats it. “Look at these limestone formations.”

My eyebrows rise. “Interesting.”

Mo laughs. “Fine. I won’t talk about rocks, but it’s time for you to pay up.”

I hand him one of my flyfishing rods. “Only if we do it my way!”

He bats his black spidery eyelashes at me. “I’d expect nothing less.”

“Let’s start with the basics. You right handed or left handed?”

He wiggles his fingers on one hand. “A lefty.”

My stomach sinks. My dad was also a lefty. I shake my head and fight through the rising sadness. “Haven’t even started and already you’re high maintenance.”

“You’re calling me high maintenance? I had to save you on our first date.”

My heart drops into my belly. “Uh. What … what did you say?”

Mo protects his face with both hands and peers through his fingers. “You’re going to smack me, aren’t you?”

I giggle nervously, which sounds more like a witch on helium. So much for sexy. “Very funny. Of course not.”

He smiles an amazing toothy grin. “Good. My ego can only take one thrashing a day.”

I decide it’s safer to skip the awkward moment and move straight into the fishing lesson. “I need to change out your rod first.” I quickly flip the reel and re-thread the line. “There. Now let’s get down to business.”

“You’re the boss.”

I walk Mo through step-by-step instructions. “Grip the rod with your left hand and extend your thumb against the handle, directly opposite the reel.” He tries to mimic my hold and I correct his hand placement. “No, no, like this.” I move his hand down the rod. Once I realized we’ve touched, for fear of blushing, I keep my head tipped forward. “There.” My eyes meet his. “How does that feel?”