Lost in the Wild by Leigh Mayberry (i am malala young readers edition txt) 📕

“Well, tell me, why hasn’t Meg given in to the interview?”

“That’s a good question. I’ve stopped asking. Maybe you can give me a few sound bites, and I can add it to my ongoing article.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Meghan said. It fell short between them. Dana managed to walk away from Meghan with Calvin at her side. They went to the buffet tables and continued to talk. She didn’t want to know if it had to do with her or not.

Meghan took in the rest of the scene. It was a perfect family-friend environment. She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. She did her best to make eye contact with people she recognized. Mostly young men who Meghan had professional contact with on various occasions, they saw her looking and moved out of view. Meghan knew it helped her cause when they suspected she paid attention.

“Your friend seems to have an interest in the reporter.”

Meghan shook her head and looked up at Neil Holt, a local bush pilot, and wilderness guide. He made it to all the social events when he wasn’t on guide duties. It helped grow his business when he networked. People knew Neil by face and name. He was the kind of guy that was hard to forget. Tall, muscular, and a little over fifty, Neil spent his life in rural Alaska. Having a pilot’s license put him at the top of most lists when it came to someone to know professionally and personally. Meghan relied on Neil because he was unafraid to lend a hand at any hour.

“She’s giving Calvin an interview,” Meghan said. “Dana just doesn’t know it yet.”

“Calvin’s a good guy.”

“I know, but he’s a reporter with a job to do. You think I’m always on duty, Calvin never stops writing.” Meghan included Neil with her statement. “You never seem to have extra time. You’re handing out brochures.”

“Anyone who comes to something like this that owns a business needs to take advantage of free advertising.”

“Why aren’t you wearing some t-shirt with your brand on it.”

“I don’t like wearing t-shirts.”

Meghan knew a man like Neil with a triangular shape, broad shoulders, and a narrow waist was the kind of man the t-shirt manufacturers want to have on their payroll. Meghan saw the definition through the button-down flannel shirts Neil wore most of the time. Sometimes she caught sight of the pectorals and the clavicle, both snippets of a healthy male that reminded Meghan she was single. It didn’t help Dana trying to kick-start Meghan’s sex drive talking about her dating habits back in New York, or watching her friend devour the reporter with her eyes.

“You want me to make time for a flight?” Neil asked. The man had a business and never stopped working. It was a trend that Meghan noticed more and more around her.

“I think you can ask Dana. You know how I feel about flying.”

Neil laughed. They had a few missions together where Meghan had to fly, and it was never easy, and never a pretty sight watching her clinging uselessly to the seat grips with her eyes squeezed shut. Meghan liked having her feet on the ground where things made more sense.

Meghan watched a boy between twelve and fifteen, weaving through the crowds. He caught her attention as he looked for someone. He was the right age to participate with the other youths. Yet he wore a long-sleeve blue jersey and denim pants. The rest of the competitors wore uniforms of various colors. A lot of the kids wore shorts or sweatpants because it made competition easier in the proper attire.

When the boy moved by her and Neil, she saw him look at her before moving off. He was a Native Alaskan with a round face and choppy black hair, the length obscuring his eyes if he moved his head right. He darted through the throng and disappeared. Meghan filed it between a mother’s intuition and a cop’s instincts. No one pursued the youth. The boy didn’t look worried enough to chase after.

“And who is this beautiful tall man.” Dana’s flirtation bordered sexual harassment. Meghan always liked her friend’s forthright attitude when it came to speaking to men. Dana wasn’t afraid to tell a man that was staring at her breasts wasn’t going to make the conversation any different.

“Dana Wyatt, this is Neil Holt. He’s a guide and pilot.”

They shook hands. Meghan scanned the crowd again for the boy in the blue jersey and black sneakers.

“I was telling Meghan that I can show you the sights if you want to book a sight-seeing tour.”

“It sounds yummy, but I know Meghan isn’t one to get her feet more than a foot or two off the ground. I think it’s a little weird. She lives in a city that you have to fly out to go anywhere.”

“She’s coming around,” Neil said. “We’ve had a few flights together. I got her to sit in the cockpit once or twice.”

“Really?” Dana said, drawing out the word as her eyebrow arched. She looked at Meghan, and it was easy to read the innuendo without her having to say it.

“How long are you in town?” Neil asked.

“I fly out first thing Wednesday morning.”

“Well, I hope you come back again.” He nodded to Dana and Meghan. Neil slipped away, looking for somewhere to hide from Dana’s glaring that suggested she wanted to undo Neil’s job or buttons on his shirt.

“You’re awful,” Meghan said.

“And why are you not getting more use out of that V-jay-jay with all these hot guys around here? Honestly, would it hurt you to have a personal relationship again?”

“I’m doing just fine,” Meghan said.

“I saw your nightstand drawer. You satisfy your urges, but you’re not living in the world, Meg.”

Meghan blushed a little. She knew Dana liked the shock