Primal Obsession Read Online Free PDF Page B

the canoe. Probably between his legs. “So where are we? Exactly.”
    “I’ll show you a map later, but Gomagash Lake and the Gomagash Wilderness lie just east of the Allagash, on private lands not regulated by the park service. The owners—"
    “A paper company?”
    He frowned. A reporter would ask that. Paper companies owned most of the timberland in northern Maine, but the public could enjoy the waters. In most cases, state authorities policed recreation and hunting access. “Universal Paper. You got something against that?”
    “I’m neutral. I’m the press, remember? During the flight here I had no trouble spotting clear-cuts. On the other hand, paper companies have done a lot for the state of Maine, but—”
    “Like any big company, they need to be regulated and reined in. Is that it?”
    She sent him a grin over her shoulder. “That’s where the press comes in. So if this area’s privately owned, the park service doesn’t maintain the campsites, like on the Allagash and the Penobscot?”
    “Not here. The owners allow three guide companies access, one at a time. We share maintenance, along with their caretaker. We try to be unobtrusive and noninvasive.”
    “To maintain the wilderness character of the area.”
    “You catch on quick. Look off there to your left.” Sam indicated a jagged peak wearing a wreath of clouds. Bare rock slashed a white scar down its side. “That’s Renraw Mountain, the second highest in Maine, next to Katahdin. The Allagash flows around to the north of it, and the Eagle flows south out of it, along with a half dozen other streams.”
    She propped her paddle and slipped her sunglasses down for a better look. A hint of a smile curved her lips. “You really love this, don’t you?”
    Sam rested too. No more cookies, so he inhaled a handful of cheese crackers. He drank some water, and gestured to her to hydrate too. “Sure. Near as much as baseball. It’s home.”
    “I’m trying to imagine feeling at home here.” She pulled a water bottle from her day-bag and tipped back her head.
    He watched her throat work as she drank, admired her sleek neck, the lift of her breasts, and lust slammed into him like a ninety-eight-mile-an-hour fastball.
    She recapped the bottle. “You were telling me our location. Where do we go after the lake?”
    He forced his attention back to paddling in time to avoid a rock. The woman was a menace. “The Eagle River takes us east to a series of ponds that lead south to our take-out on Big Loon Pond. The amphib pilot meets us there on Tuesday.”
    “A week.” She shook her head. “I’ll take it one day at a time.”
    They paddled in silence for a while. He watched the steep bank for familiar landmarks. A cow moose stood in the shallow, her long muzzle dripping water plants. At their approach, she stopped chewing.
    “Thoreau said moose looked like great frightened rabbits. I’ve never bought that description,” Sam said.
    “Their ears are sure big enough, but this one looks more nearsighted than frightened.” She twisted to peer at him. “Henry David Thoreau, huh?”
    “Surprised I read?” Hell, he didn’t read much, but he’d nearly worn out his copy of The Maine Woods . “Thoreau was a snooty aristocrat and no environmentalist, but his account of trekking through the Maine wilderness was damned detailed and accurate. Holds up even today.”
    After the moose splashed up the bank and disappeared, she said, “I heard you tell the boy about your hand. Tough, having to quit like that. Could you have stayed with the Sox, worked for the team in a different capacity?”
    “I gave it a shot.” He could tell her some of it. “Worked in the office doing publicity.”
    “But you didn’t stay.”
    “It wasn’t baseball. Lasted less than a year. If I hadn’t quit they would’ve fired me. I’d sooner wear a noose than a necktie.” He grimaced at the memory.
    “And let me guess. To an active guy like you, an office felt like a