Forever Flint

Ashlinn didn’t know if he was kidding or not but decided to set the record straight right from the beginning.

“The gods aren’t smiling,” she said succinctly. “So don’t bother going through the motions, because you’ve already struck out.”

Only Bouvier didn’t get her baseball metaphor. “I have a can of Mace,” Ashlinn clarified her position for him. “If you try anything with me, I’ll use it on you.”

“So you’ve already made your choice, then?” Koji’s eyes were fixed on her hand linked with Flint’s.

Her face flaming, Ashlinn dropped Flint’s hand. “My choice is to be left alone!”

Just in case they decided to take her literally and abandon her in the wild, she added, “I expect to be treated exactly like any other member of this group. As if I were Asher Carey.”

Rico said something in a language she didn’t recognize and they all laughed. Except Flint. He looked as uncomprehending as she did.

“An old Sinhalese saying,” Koji explained. “Remind us to translate later, Flint.”

Ashlinn guessed the remark was outrageously sexist and dealt with a woman’s place in the most insulting terms. Well, she didn’t want to be here any more than they wanted her along. It was just too bad she was so totally outnumbered. If only Flint’s half sisters hadn’t been so impossible.

As the four men swapped tales of the smugglers’ bazaar in Peshawar, Ashlinn fell into a light fitful sleep that lasted until the van came to a stop.

She opened her eyes to see an enormous buffalo standing a few feet away, staring straight at her. She gasped.

“Bison,” Flint laid his hand on her arm. “Don’t be alarmed. There are about fourteen hundred of them roaming in the park. We’re on Wildlife Loop Road, and they often stop traffic along this stretch.”

Several cars were stopped behind them on the narrow road as a few bison meandered across. More animals were grazing on either side of the road.

“I’ve never seen a live buffalo before,” she said, awed. “Only stuffed ones in museums.”

“I’d like to ride one of those,” enthused Jack Hall. “I’ve ridden camels in Saudi and elephants in India.”

“Haven’t we all?” Figueroa sounded bored.

Ashlinn and Flint caught each other’s eye. “Camels and elephants are so passé,” she imitated Figueroa’s jaded tone. “Riding bison is the latest thrill.”

Flint swallowed a smile. “Riding bison is forbidden,” he informed his charges. “They can be dangerously unpredictable and bad-tempered.”

“With this group, you’re better off saying bison are so tame that even grandmothers find them dull to ride,” Ashlinn murmured. “Nothing seems to excite our fellow campers more than the possibility of breaking every bone in their bodies.”

Flint laughed.

“What’s so funny?” demanded Bouvier.

“Ashlinn just made a—um—a buffalo joke,” Flint said, as they exchanged conspiratorial smiles.

“Your ancestors worshipped the buffalo, didn’t they, Flint?” Koji asked respectfully. “I’ve read a lot about the American Wild West.”

Since Flint had made it clear he was a modern-day workaholic who preferred his office to anywhere else, the Wild West reference struck Ashlinn as particularly absurd. She couldn’t stifle another outburst of laughter.

“Now you’re laughing at Flint’s native culture?” Bouvier’s voice was icy with disapproval.

“No, of course not,” she said quickly. “It’s just that I can’t picture Flint in the Old West era.”

“I can,” said Koji, and launched into an impassioned discourse about the softness of contemporary society and its toxic effect on men. Fortunately, according to him, the five men in the van were immune to this modern-day plague and remained true men’s men; living, breathing tributes to the hardy male wamors who preceded them.

“I wasn’t accusing you of being a couch potato,” Ashlinn murmured to Flint. “Honest.”

“I know,” he replied, his voice equally low.

Not that it mattered, because the four warriors in the back weren’t interested in the conversation going on in the front. They’d already launched into an eager discussion about the challenges of hunting for game in assorted trouble spots.

“Just for the record, I prefer contemporary times,” continued Flint. “I’ll take one of the Paradise Outdoors water-tight tents instead of a lean-to made out of sticks and mud any day.”

“A cell phone over smoke signals,” added Ashlinn.

Flint nodded. “A pair of Paradise Outdoors woodsman boots with Durotech socks rather than moccasins.”

“Paradise Outdoors power-zoom binoculars instead of squinting.” She shrugged apologetically. “I’m running out of examples, that was the best I could do.”

“There are countless examples,” enthused Flint. “Let’s start with this GPS automotive navigator sold by Paradise Outdoors.”

He pointed to the electronic geopositional satellite unit mounted on the dash. “The unit has built-in maps of highways and major metro streets in the United States and most of Canada and Mexico, and also includes rivers and lakes. It continuously tracks and uses up to twelve satellites for precise operations.”

Ashlinn was impressed. “That makes a compass seem obsolete”

“Although Paradise Outdoors does sell a wide range of fine compasses,” Flint added quickly, never one to disparage any merchandise sold by his company.

“Maybe for nostalgia buffs?” teased Ashlinn. “How’s that for a marketing hook?”

“Pretty bad, but I’ve heard worse,” said Flint.

“Surely not from Skatm’ Sam Carmody, marketing genius?” Ashlinn suggested

“Why are you so down on Carmody?” Flint asked. “Actually, I’d like to bring him into the family, convince him to try his luck with Eva ”

“Sam Carmody and Eva?” quizzed Ashlinn

Flint nodded his approval. “Carmody and Eva would be good together The company would get to keep a stellar marketing talent in the family and—er—”

“Yes, ‘and—er,’” Ashlinn mocked. “Paradise Outdoors would get to keep Carmody, but how would Eva benefit? What does she get out of such a setup?”

“Eva has stock in the company. What’s good for Paradise Outdoors is good for every member of the Paradise family?” suggested Flint. “A fairly weak argument, I’ll grant you that.”

“I should mention that family fix-ups and all the expectations that go with them usually bomb big time,” Ashlinn warned. “I’m speaking from personal experience.”

“Your family has tried to fix you up a lot?” Flint realized he was scowling. His gut began to churn when he also realized how much he absolutely hated the thought of her dating a lot of different men, family setups or not. He hated the thought of her dating any man.

His breath caught in his throat. Good Lord, he couldn’t be jealous, not him. Flint Paradise had never succumbed to sexual jealousy in his life. And to feel jealous of the unnamed, unknown men who’d been set up with Ashlinn. . .that was foolish beyond reason. And he was infinitely reasonable, never foolish. He could only be relieved that she appeared to be completely unaware of his inner turmoil.

“Finding a match for me was turning into a regular Carey family project,” Ashlinn replied, and heaved a groan. “But I finally had to lay down the law and tell them no more match-making, especially after the last guy.”

“Bad?” asked Flint. He knew he sounded too hopeful and hoped she hadn’t noticed.

She hadn’t.

“Bad doesn’t begin to cover it. Try ‘unendurable’ I have my sister Courtney to thank for inflicting her brother-in-law Nathaniel Tremaine on me.” Ashlinn shuddered at the memory.

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