Misty had looked cute in her bikini yesterday, Jack thought – but it was still a little-girl sort of cute. She still had that thin and bony young teenage girl look to her; her curves were not all that well developed, and it almost seemed as if she were playing at being sexy, rather than the real thing. That wasn’t the case with Vixen, when Jack saw her as she came out of the bathroom. Her black string bikini with a red and green image on it probably didn’t cover as much as Misty’s had the day before, only by a slight degree; but she’d filled out considerably compared to the younger girl. Vixen had somewhat more developed breasts than Misty, better legs, rounder hips. She didn’t look cute, like Misty; she was downright sexy. Her face was still acne-ridden and her glasses still looked funny, but he hardly noticed those after he’d become used to them. Overall, in his eyes, while Misty may have been nice, Vixen had her beat by miles.

“Hey,” he said. “You look downright sexy.”

“Well, that’s how it’s supposed to look,” she giggled. “Good God, I never thought I’d be wearing this down at the beach! I lie out in the back yard in it some, but I have a one-piece that I usually take down there. But it’s all for a good cause.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“To make you hot for me, of course,” she snickered. “I think I’m going to wear a T-shirt till we get to the beach just on general principles, but I can take it off there.”

“Would you like one of mine?” he offered. “It might cover a little more than yours would.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that,” she said, “but I’d sort of like to tease the kids downstairs a little before I put it on.”

“I can understand that,” he laughed as he turned back into his room to grab a T-shirt at random from his drawer. “Jeez, if I were hanging out with a girl as pretty as Misty, I wouldn’t be playing Nintendo, that’s for sure.”

“What would you be doing?” she laughed.

“Beats me,” he said as he came back out of his room carrying the T-shirt and headed for the stairs. “I’m hanging out with an even prettier girl, and we go birding and mow lawns, so take it from there!”

“You’re awful sweet with that tongue of yours, you know that?” she giggled. “I’m afraid it’s going to get both of us into trouble sooner or later.”

“How do you figure that?” he asked.

She grinned and raised her voice, obviously in hopes that Howie and Misty would hear her. “Oh, Jack,” she gushed. “I just love what you can do to me with your tongue. It just absolutely drives me wild.”

He got the message. “You do the same thing to me with yours,” he said as he came into the living room, to see that both Howie and Misty were looking at them with intense interest, not at the game.

Howie was clearly checking Vixen out, and for that matter, so was Misty. “You sure you two don’t want to come to the beach with us?” Jack asked.

“I, uh, don’t think so,” Howie said a little uncertainly. “It, uh, looks like we might be getting in the way of something.”

“Not right now,” Jack said. “We just want to cool off after mowing lawns. We probably won’t be real long, then we’re going to come back for lunch, and go birding.”

“If you’re going to the beach, why not take Stas with you?” Howie suggested. “He’s starting to smell, well, kind of like a dog, if you know what I mean. It might not hurt for him to get a little wet, too.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Jack said. He’d left the dog at the house when he and Vixen went mowing, mostly to keep him out of trouble. Stas had already played a part in breaking up one confrontation with Frenchy, and the one this morning might have been different if he’d though to take him along. But no, Stas had been sleeping on the porch when that came down. Oh, well, count it as a lesson learned, he thought. “Hey Stas,” he said to the dog sleeping on the kitchen floor. “You want to go to the beach?”

Stas must not have been exactly sleeping, because he got up quickly, tail wagging. While he got along with the rest of the family, he was mostly Jack’s dog and always seemed to enjoy going with him whenever he could. He was an excellent birder for a dog, and never seemed to bother the birds Jack was trying to observe. Once again, Jack felt a little sorry that most likely he was going to have to leave Stas behind when he left for college in a year.

After a couple more teases back and forth, Jack, Vixen and Stas went out the back door and headed for the Jeep. Stas got up into his usual spot in the back seat, while Jack and Vixen got in the front. “You know,” Jack said to Vixen as he started the Jeep and she put on the T-shirt he had given her, “I was just thinking about the fact that I screwed up this morning.”

“How?”

He explained his thoughts of how if he’d had Stas with them in the morning, the edge might have been taken off of the fracas with Frenchy.

“Good idea,” she agreed. “That joker seems to be spoiling for a fight more and more, so maybe we need some sort of equalizer. I mean, besides Stas. Do you really think you could take Frenchy in a one-on-one fight?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “Let’s face it, I’m a lover, not a fighter. I might have stood a chance this morning if I could have gotten to his knee and if Larry weren’t in the mix, but I wouldn’t guarantee it.”

While they were heading down to the beach in the Jeep, Vixen pulled out her phone and called her mother. “Hi, Mom,” she said, then listened for a moment. Jack heard her say, “Yeah, we talked it over and agreed to wait, so I guess we’ve got a deal.”

Vixen and her mother talked back and forth for a moment, with Vixen telling her mother that she and Jack had plans to go birding in the afternoon but she could put it off if she had to. Finally she closed the phone and turned to Jack. “Tomorrow morning, nine AM,” she said. “I guess that could screw up the morning birding.”

“It could,” Jack said, realizing what the conversation had been about. Two months would be a long wait, but it seemed worth it to him. “But we don’t have to go in the early morning. I’ve been running behind on sleep and I wouldn’t mind pulling a Howie for once.”

“You mean sleeping in until all hours?” she giggled. “How about a little sympathy for the girlfriend who has to be ready an hour ahead of time, and then listen to her mother twitter and worry for most of that hour?”

“I suspect that I’ll be perfectly able to be sympathetic with my eyes closed,” Jack laughed. “Don’t forget, you’re not doing it just for my sake, after all.”

Even though it was quite hot, the beach was not crowded for noon on a Monday. Feeling a little conservative after the hassle, Jack decided not to park in the shady area farther up to the beach, and went to the extreme south end of the beach, which was essentially downtown.

“Don’t you want to park in the shade?” Vixen asked. “It’d be cooler there.”

“It would be,” Jack agreed. “But if Frenchy and his buddies are out cruising around and find us, there are more people around here and they might not be quite so willing to start something.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she sighed. “You know, it really sucks to have to think like that.”

“Yeah,” Jack said as he got out of the Jeep. “Maybe something will happen. You never know.”

Vixen nodded her agreement as she stood up and peeled off the borrowed T-shirt. “I feel better having Stas with us, but still, I wish there was some better way to deal with them.”

“Yeah, I do too,” Jack replied as he watched the fascinating sight of Vixen taking off the T-shirt. The way her arms were raised really grabbed his attention. No doubt about it, Vixen was a babe. How did he get so lucky?

In spite of the time they’d spent since they got done mowing, they were both still hot and sweaty. Spearfish Lake is a northern lake, and it rarely gets very warm. It’s at its warmest in August, and it was still chilly enough that staying in the water for long wasn’t very appealing. Right now, to them the chill temperatures felt good, not to mention the lake washing off the sticky sweat and grass clippings the mowing had caused. Neither of them were very good swimmers – few Spearfish Lake kids are, since the lake is rarely comfortable for swimming and there was no indoor pool in town – so they didn’t get into the water much more than about waist deep.

The best swimmer among them was Stas, and Jack had brought along a floating Frisbee to interest the dog in getting wet. They spent a good half hour tossing the Frisbee around, both between them and for Stas to retrieve, and spending a little time hugging and grab- assing before they began to get uncomfortably chilly. “What do you say we go back and get some lunch?” Jack suggested finally.

“Sounds fine to me,” Vixen said. “I wish this lake were a little warmer. This has been fun, and I’d like to stay in more.”

“Yeah, me too,” Jack agreed, then yelled, “OK, Stas, time to go home.”

Jack and Vixen walked out of the lake holding hands, taking their time, while Stas got in front of them. When the dog got up on the beach, he was like all dogs and gave himself a good shake to get rid of the loose water, although with his thin hair not a lot had collected. The three of them walked easily across the sand back up to where the Jeep was parked on the street. While Vixen was reaching for her T-shirt, Jack happened to look past her for an instant and a light dawned.

“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Does it involve me wearing less than this bikini?” Vixen grinned provocatively without putting on the shirt.

“Not this time,” Jack grinned. “Come on.”

The first building on Lakeshore south of the beach is a one-story affair that housed several businesses. The first one of them is McGuinness-Archer Accounting, and the next three units of the six-unit structure were home to Spearfish Lake Outfitters. The store focused on outdoor sports that didn’t involve hunting or fishing, and had a busy kayak and canoe rental business as well. If there was any place in Spearfish Lake where the phrase, “No shirts, no shoes, no service” didn’t apply, it was there. What was even better was that it was the leading dogsledding gear provider in the area, so it was one place where dogs were welcome.

Things were slow around the store when Jack, Vixen, and Stas walked in. “Hi,” a good-looking fortyish woman with long black hair and a tanned, healthy-looking skin greeted them. “Are you two looking to rent a canoe or kayak? ”

“Not today,” Jack said, recognizing the woman: it was Mrs. Archer, Cody’s mother. Jack didn’t know her very well, but she had a reputation around Spearfish Lake – she was one of four people in the area to have run the Iditarod, the thousand-mile dogsled race across Alaska each March. She didn’t do it every year, but had done it three times. That was the least of the four Spearfish Lake mushers who had done it, but still was almost legendary. It put her head and shoulders above average as being an outdoor nut. “Hi, I’m Jack Erikson, and this is Vixen Hvalchek.”

“And who’s your dog?” Mrs. Archer asked.

“Oh, this is Stas,” Jack replied.

“You got him from Run-8 Kennels?” Mrs. Archer asked. “They get one with that thin hair gene every once in a while and can’t seem to get rid of it.”

“Well, my Dad picked him out,” Jack replied. “I was like five or six at the time.”

“Doesn’t look that old,” Mrs. Archer smiled. “The heck of it with those thin hair genes is they always seem to go along with a pretty smart dog that’s a lot less wild than the typical husky.”

“It’s only my opinion,” Jack said, “but I think he’s very smart and very well behaved. I suspect that if he had more hair he would have made a heck of a lead dog, although he’s too old for it now. He’s actually best at bird watching with me. Sometimes he’ll pick out birds that I don’t notice.”

“Ohhho,” Mrs. Archer smiled. “I know you! You’re the birding nut!”

“I don’t like to use the term ‘nut,’”' Jack replied. “‘Freak,’ maybe. Vixen here is becoming one, too.”

“Well, all right, enthusiast,” Mrs. Archer smiled. “Tiffany and I were talking about you just the other day, and we sort of decided to call you up some time.”

“Oh?” Jack replied, a little surprised.

“Yeah, we’ve got this little group, I suppose you could call it a class, that meets on Saturday morning to learn various outdoor skills. Sometimes it’s a struggle for Tiffany and I to come up with something new for them, and we thought that maybe birding basics might be a possibility. You’re probably the best known bird enthusiast we have in town, so you’d be perfect to lead a few classes, maybe some short Saturday morning birding expeditions. We usually give the class for free, it’s sort of a promotion, but we ought to be able to throw a few bucks your way for doing it.”

“Not a problem,” Jack replied. “In fact, I’d love to do it, and I’ll bring Vixen along so we can both work with your people. The timing is pretty good, too. The fall migration will be getting started soon, so that means a lot of opportunities to see things not normally around here in the summer and winter.”

“Good enough,” Mrs. Archer smiled. “I’m guessing it’ll be Saturday for the first session. I’ll have to get together with Tiffany to iron it all out to be sure. I’ll give you a call later in the week to firm things up. Make sure you leave me your number before you go. Now that we’ve got all that worked out, what can I do for you today?”

“Well,” Jack said, “I’ve been seeing this bear around when I’ve been out birding. I know that black bears aren’t likely to attack, but this seems to be a garbage bear and I’m a little worried. I was wondering if you have any bear repellent pepper spray.”

Mrs. Archer got a grin on her face. “This wouldn’t happen to be a French bear, would it?”

“Might be,” Jack said sheepishly. She was on to him already – which wasn’t a surprise, considering who her younger son was. “He growls funny, anyway.”

“Just checking,” Mrs. Archer replied as her grin got wider. “Yeah, I have heard that there’s a bit of a French bear problem around, and I think I’ve got what you need. We don’t sell a lot of bear spray, but we ordered a box of it for some guys going salmon fishing in Alaska in the fall a couple years ago. They didn’t take all of it, there’s four cans left and they’re about to expire. Normally it’s $32.95 a can, but since they’re almost expired, I can let you have them for a lot less.”

“What’s this bear spray stuff?” Vixen asked.

“You know what ‘Mace’ is, don’t you?” Mrs. Archer smiled. “Bear spray is pretty much the same thing, concentrated and refined capsaicin, which is the stuff that makes hot peppers hot. Bear spray is a little more powerful than the stuff in Mace, and while the stuff is labeled ‘Not for use on humans,’ it actually is legal for that in this state. I’ve never had to use it, but I’ve mostly only been in dangerous bear country when they’re hibernating. Not always – a few years ago there was a polar bear reported out on Norton Sound, which is way south of where they normally go. Polar bears are even worse than grizzlies for being bad news for people, so I kept my .357 Magnum with me clear to the end of the race.”

“This bear spray stuff sounds like it might work,” Jack said, dragging the topic away from dogsled racing stories, which was where they were obviously heading. “What do you have to have for all four cans to get them out of here?”

“What do you say if I swap all four of them to you in exchange for teaching a few of those birding classes I was just talking about?” Mrs. Archer smiled.

“I’d say you have a deal,” Jack grinned.

“I thought you’d say that,” Mrs. Archer laughed. “I’ll have to run into the back room to get them.” She turned and headed for another part of the store.

As she left, Jack felt Vixen’s arms around him. He twisted a little to look at her, and found a wide grin on her face. “You’re sneaky,” she smiled. “That’s a darn good idea. I hope we don’t have to use it but it will be dynamite if we do.”

“I hope we don’t either,” he replied softly, “but at least it will be something of an equalizer if it’s needed. Maybe we’ll be able to breathe just a little bit easier.”

“That would be nice,” she sighed.

In a minute, Mrs. Archer was back, carrying four pressurized spray cans somewhat smaller than a pop can. “Here you go,” she said as she put them in a plastic sack. “There’s plenty of spray in each can, I don’t know how much but you’re probably good for fifteen or twenty seconds with one of them, and it doesn’t take much of a hit to slow a bear down. Just hit him in the face, preferably in the eyes or as close to them as you can get. A second or two in the eyes should incapacitate an attacking French bear right in his tracks.”

“I hope we don’t run into any French bears,” Jack said, going along with the euphemism. “But if we do, it’ll be good to know we have this stuff.”

“Just be careful,” she replied. “Watch the wind direction and try not to get any of it on yourselves. You won’t like it if you do.”

Back at the Erikson house, Howie and Misty still had their Nintendo war going on. They had been at it for hours and there was no sign of it ending any time soon, not that Howie minded. Playing Nintendo with Misty beat all hollow anything he might have done with Mike.

He was barely aware of Jack and Vixen coming into the house, and was slightly startled to hear Jack ask, “You guys want some lunch?”

“No,” Howie replied, pausing the game and turning to his older brother. “We broke for some sandwiches and chips a while ago, we’re good for now.” He saw Vixen standing next to Jack, still wearing only her damp bikini. She sure fills it out, he thought, but I think Misty looks better.

“Good enough,” Jack replied. “We’ll just make something.”

“Suit yourself,” Howie said. “Hey, Mom called a while ago, she wanted to know if you and Vixen were going to be back for dinner.”

“We can be if she wants us,” Jack told him. “We’re going out in the pine barrens again to see if we can spot that Kirtland’s Warbler I saw last week. We can knock it off so we can be back about six or so.”

“Why don’t you plan on it?” Howie replied. “Misty is going to stay for supper tonight; we’re going to grill burgers out back.”

“Yeah, I guess it could be fun,” Jack agreed. “I probably need to start doing a little more family stuff with Vixen around, anyway.”

“That was sort of what Mom said,” Howie reported.

“All right,” Jack told him. “We’ll shoot to be back about six, give or take a little. Tell Mom if she calls.”

“Will do,” Howie agreed, and took the game off pause.

Howie was dimly aware that Jack and Vixen were messing around in the kitchen and elsewhere in the house, but his mind was mainly on his game, along with the occasional glance at Misty, who managed to show a lot of cleavage in her loose top. It was distracting, to say the least. After a while, and there was no telling how long, he heard Jack call out to him, “All right, we’re out of here. See you later.”

Howie again paused the game briefly, and turned to see Jack and Vixen at the door, both now wearing jeans and T-shirts. Boy, those were going to be hot out in the middle of the pine barrens in the afternoon, he thought. “Have fun,” he called, and turned back to the game.

“You know,” Misty said, “I’m starting to get just a little tired of this. Let’s take a break.”

“Fine by me,” he said. “I could stand for a drink and to stretch out a bit.”

“Me, too,” she grinned, “but I’ve had something else on my mind, and I’m sure you have, too.”

Howie was pretty sure he knew what Misty was talking about, but he thought it better to ask, “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t expect them back for a while, right?”

“No, unless they forgot something and come back in a few minutes, we won’t see them until about six,” Howie said confidently.

“How about your Mom and Dad?” she grinned with a scheming look on her face.

“They’ll be back a little after five,” Howie told her.

“Well, good,” she smiled, that grin getting even broader. “Look, we’re pretty close to even in the score. Let’s play out the rest of this game to make sure they don’t come back, but let’s make the game a little more interesting.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, how about if I win, we spend some time kissing and stuff, and you can play with my boobs a little. I know you’ve been staring at them all morning and wanting to do it.”

“I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t,” he smiled. “But that’s what happens if you win. What happens if I win?”

“We do the same thing,” she laughed. “Except that I’ll take my top off and you can play with them bare.”

“Oh, boy,” he grinned. “That’s a darn sight more interesting, all right. Prepare to lose your top.”

“I’m not going to make it easy for you,” she ginned, and laughed out loud. “You know, that leads to the idea of a whole new game.”

“What’s that?”

“Strip Nintendo.”

“Yeah,” he said, eyeing her breasts. Covered or uncovered, he’d be playing with them shortly, and he was sure she wasn’t wearing a bra. What would it be like to kiss her nipples? How would she react? “That could have possibilities.”

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