“Sure. We can let them sniff the beach. Pebbles likes the water. I don’t know about Betty, though.” Mina tossed me a saucy smile. “I guess we’ll find out.”
I chuckled. “Here’s hoping she doesn’t get tumbled by a wave. My clothes and Ellis’s pack will smell like wet dog, if so.”
“I’m not so sure,” Mina said with a light laugh. “She’s not getting fatigued yet, and we’ve walked about two miles.”
“Hush. She’ll get there.” With a wink, I tugged on the dog’s leash and headed for the water.
She was right, though. Neither dog was really showing signs of fatigue. We’d stopped a couple of times to offer them water when their tongues lolled out a little too far. The pep in their step had remained.
We broke through the trees and onto the rocky beach. Betty immediately yipped and ran for the water; only the leash clipped to her harness stopped her.
Mina laughed. “I think maybe she likes it.”
“Yeah.” Chuckling, I walked forward, letting the rambunctious animal reach the wave line. Even though the waves were only a few inches tall, water still crashed over her feet, and she backpedaled, then barked.
“Or maybe not.” Laughing, I hooked my fingers into Betty’s harness and plucked her off the ground, swinging her just a few feet away. Water still lapped at her feet, but it was more of a creep now than a splash.
Pebbles, however, had no such qualms. She darted to the edge of the water and ran through the tiny waves. Mina held on tight to the dog’s leash. While the wave height here was low, they were still half the height of the small dog.
We let them play for several minutes before we walked down the beach, enjoying the sound of the water and the wind. I loved Alaska in the summer. Sunshine glinted off the water, warm and bright. You could even smell it in the air.
I liked winter, too, because it was equally gorgeous. But I also liked my fingers not freezing at work.
After we explored the beach, we headed back to the trail.
“Do you want to go further, or turn back?” I asked.
“Are these two ready to turn back, do you think?” Mina gestured to the dogs. At that exact moment, Betty tackled Pebbles, who sprang to her feet and gave her new sister a solid, snarly bark. It didn’t deter the lab puppy at all.
I rolled my eyes. “Not yet, but it’s also two miles back to the truck.”
“True.” But she still didn’t look convinced.
“Let’s hike another half mile, then turn around. Surely, somewhere in that five miles they’ll give in.”
She chuckled. “One could hope. Okay.”
Turning, we headed south again.
“You know, I think we’re close to that property Sarah Cole owns.”
I looked around the forest with a new eye. “Really?
She nodded. “I remember it from the map Claire pulled up. It’s not too far from here. Most people think this is all state land, but some of it’s privately owned.” She sent a mischievous smile at me. “You think we should go check it out?”
I laughed. “No. I value my freedom. Ozzie would lock us both up if we did that.”
She pouted, but mischief still danced in her eyes. “Party pooper.”
Taking her hand, I tugged her forward. “Look at it this way. If we’re locked up, they’ll separate us, and I do not want to sleep on a thin prison cot when we each have a lush mattress big enough for two.”
The mischief in her eyes morphed into something hotter.
“Good point. Let’s wear these dogs out.”
Chuckling, we picked up the pace and headed down the path.
Several minutes later, a low buzz reached my ears. The dogs heard it, too, and paused, both of them turning toward the shore.
