Chapter 1 #3
“It comes in handy around here. Hold on, here we go!” Justin said as they taxied down the lake, then sped up and lifted off. Scott watched in wonder as the lake fell away beneath them, and a magnificent view took its place.
“Pretty spectacular, isn’t it?” Justin said, likely noticing Scott’s response. “Gets me every time. Never gets old.”
“Wow. Seriously, wow.” Scott gripped the handhold by the door and tried not to grab the left armrest.
“Are you a nervous flier?” Justin asked without looking.
“Not usually,” Scott said. “I’m just more aware of everything in a small plane.”
“Give it a minute, and you’ll be so busy looking at the scenery you won’t have time to think about anything else,” Justin promised. “Get your camera ready. Everywhere you look is picture-perfect.”
Scott pulled out his phone and stared awestruck at the view of an autumn forest that seemed to stretch on forever, broken only by the clear blue of lakes and ponds.
“See what I mean?” Justin’s pride was clear in his voice.
“It’s gorgeous,” Scott agreed. The photos he took with his phone weren’t intended for publication, but he wanted to be able to provide his photographer with ideas.
They flew in silence for a little while as Scott focused on the land beneath them and Justin kept up a running dialogue, letting him know which sites on the list they were seeing.
“I bet you’re a great tour guide.” Scott felt increasingly more comfortable with Justin as their time together stretched on.
Don’t let him get away, his coyote urged.
“Plenty of practice.” Justin laughed. “Even when I’m taking someone to a camp they’ve been to before, there’s usually somewhere I can point out that they don’t already know about.”
“There’s definitely an awesome view.” Scott mentally included Justin in that statement.
“Always something new to see.” Justin’s tone sounded flirty, but Scott acknowledged that could be wishful thinking.
“How did you get into flying and the guide business?” Scott asked as he continued to photograph the ground beneath them.
“Family tradition,” Justin replied. “My dad grew up going camping around here in the summers. He was a pilot in the Air Force, and then for airlines and private charter flights. When he wanted a slower pace, he bought out the guy who started the seaplane tours here and took over the company. There have been several new planes over the years. When Dad decided to retire, I took over.”
“Then it’s in your blood?”
Justin chuckled. “I guess you could say so. I used to love going to the airport to see Dad come and go. There were plenty of times he let me look in the cockpit and sit in the jump seat. I never wanted the formality of the airlines or the military, and with this, I make my own schedule.”
“You’ve been flying all your life?” Scott wanted to know more about Justin and what interested him.
“Yes and no. Dad insisted that I go to college and get a degree, so I’d have options.
Mine is in business with a minor in environmental studies,” Justin replied.
“When I graduated from SUNY Plattsburgh, I worked in Plattsburgh for a while and tried corporate life. I didn’t like it. ” He laughed again.
“Understandable.”
“I admire the risk Dad took, letting me stretch my wings, no pun intended,” Justin said. “When I came back to Fox Hollow, I could help in the office as well as flying. It’s worked out pretty well.”
“Other than the flying part, that’s a lot like my work,” Scott said. “I’ve worked for companies and colleges, but I prefer picking my assignments and writing on topics that I’m actually interested in.”
“If you can tell me more about the slant to your articles, I might be able to suggest the best locations,” Justin volunteered.
“Warning, if you get me talking about what I write, you’ll get maximum geekiness,” Scott replied. “I get into my topics.”
“I love a man who’s passionate about his work.” Justin gave another veiled double entendre, making Scott even more sure they might share more than common interests.
“Just remember, I warned you!” Scott laughed. “Okay, I’ve got a weak spot for abandoned places. I’m not brave enough to be one of those people on YouTube who go poking around old sites, but I love to write about how things were and what made them go away, and what came after.”
“I enjoy watching those videos, but I always think the people who go into those old factories and abandoned buildings are nuts,” Justin agreed. “Although the stories behind them are fascinating.”
“And I love being the one to tell those stories,” Scott said. “It’s a little like being a detective. I get to uncover forgotten pieces of history, hear stories about how it used to be, and make sure that places and the people behind them don’t get forgotten.”
“Plenty to tell about lost ski resorts in the Adirondacks,” Justin said. “People have written whole books on the subject. The last I heard, there were about sixty places that came and went.”
“That doesn’t really surprise me. There’s a big investment in buildings, lifts, and trails. That takes deep pockets, and it wouldn’t earn out fast.” Scott replied.
“I’ll take you to the biggest failed resort first. It’s still impressive from the air. Some of the others are harder to see.”
“Alpine Ridge?” Scott guessed.
“Yep,” Justin answered as the plane changed course. “It was supposed to become one of the biggest in the northeast and barely made it three seasons before it went under. If you look down, you can make out where the trails were. There’s still a T-bar lift left, although it’s long defunct.”
It didn’t take long before Scott could make out the outline of trails beneath them.
“From what I read, the promoters told everyone it would have thirty chairlifts, fifty trails, a lodge, village, and chalets.” Scott snapped photos as they spoke. “They never even got close.”
“It would have been quite a place if it had actually happened.” Justin sounded wistful. “That size of a resort would have been a big draw.”
“I got some great photos, thanks,” Scott said after they had circled.
“We’ll head for what’s left of the Grand Ulster Hotel next,” Justin told him.
Scott had read about the Ulster. “That was an old resort from the early 1900s that grew big and then fell apart.”
“Yeah. My grandparents went there back in the glory days,” Justin said.
“It had ski trails and a chalet, too. Plus roller skating and ice skating, pools, and a golf course. It was set up for meetings, so there was a ballroom, conference center, and nightclub. The golf course got sold when the resort went bankrupt.”
“But the buildings were just left to rot,” Scott said. “What a waste.”
“All it takes is a couple of bad years with no snow, and customers find some new place to try. The tourist business is rough and unforgiving.”
Scott’s camera clicked as they flew over the Ulster’s high-rise tower and smaller buildings. Even from the air, he could see that they had fallen into disrepair.
“It really must have been something, back in the day.” Scott felt sad at the broken dreams the old resort represented.
They flew over several more long-defunct ski areas. Some had been folded into newer resorts, while others were now just trails, gradually being reclaimed by nature.
The woods sprawled beneath them as they soared over the trees. “I may not always be a fan of the weather, but I love this area,” Justin said. “The forest is something very special. There’s real magic here, if you believe in that sort of thing.”
“I do.” Scott wondered if Justin included shifters in that comment. “I’ve got to ask, have you heard anything about people seeing strange creatures lately?”
Justin frowned. “What kind of creatures?” He sounded wary.
“I didn’t get a lot of details,” Scott confessed. “But the sightings scared people.”
Justin was quiet long enough Scott wasn’t sure he would answer.
“The forest is vast and ancient. There’s power in that combination.
More than a few people in these parts have talents that are a little outside the mainstream.
Psychics, witches, healers. They draw on that power like a wellspring, and if something pollutes the land, it affects everything. ”
Justin’s acceptance of the supernatural surprised Scott, but it also raised a small flicker of hope in the back of his mind since he hadn’t sensed that Justin could shift.
If he knows about such things, and we got involved, could he accept me being a shifter?
Does he have some ability of his own, even if he can’t change form?
The more time Scott spent with Justin, the more he liked the man. He didn’t know if Justin’s flirty comments meant anything, but he couldn’t help hoping. His coyote might be sure, but he wasn’t convinced. Wouldn’t Justin have given some indication if he thought they were mates?
“I don’t have any problem believing that forest magic can be real.”
His acknowledgment seemed to relax Justin, who nodded. “That’s good. You’d fit right in here.”
“My cousins own The Lone Coyote,” Scott volunteered. “I’ve heard about the area from them over the years.”
“Oh, yeah? The Thompsons are good people,” Justin said. “That gives you another reason to visit when your articles are done.” His smile and wink were an implicit invitation, and Scott felt warm despite his caution.
“There’s a lot here to like,” Scott replied.
Before Justin could reply, a timer beeped. “Time to head back for today.” Justin turned the plane in a wide curve. “I figure we got to about half of your list. If you’ve got time tomorrow, we can knock off more of them.”
“That sounds good. I’m open to doing something every day this week,” Scott told him.
“I have a couple of tours in the mornings, but I can do the afternoons again,” Justin said.
“Works for me.” It wouldn’t be cheap, but Scott thought it was a good investment for his articles and maybe finding out if there was something between him and Justin.
Justin hesitated for a moment, as if considering his next words. “If you don’t have other plans and you’re not tired of talking already, how about we get dinner tonight? That’s not part of the standard tour package, just for very special people.”
Yes! He likes us. Say yes! his coyote chimed in.
Scott grinned. “I’d love that. We spent the flight talking about my work. I’d love to hear more about what you do, and I bet you’ve got some great stories about the people you’ve met.”
“Oh, believe me. That’s an understatement.” If Justin had been worried that Scott might turn him down, his confidence and good humor returned with acceptance of the invitation.
“I’m staying at the Fox Hollow Hotel,” Scott told him. “Where do you want to meet, and when?”
“I’ll pick you up,” Justin said. “And while the hotel’s food is good, there are other places that are more fun with just as good food. Do you like fish?”
“If it’s cooked right. Doesn’t have to be fancy, just good.” Scott didn’t mention that nearly all his fishing was done in his coyote form, splashing in forest streams.
“Then I’ve got a place I think you’ll really like,” Justin said. “It’s a Fox Hollow tradition, a real old-fashioned fish house. We’re likely to see half the town there, the food’s that good.”
“Sounds great.” Scott wondered what reaction the regulars might have to him showing up with Justin.
Much as he hoped the invitation sprang from the spark between them and the comfortable connection forged during the flight, he hoped Justin didn’t make a habit of asking all his single clients out on a date.
It’s just dinner. No one’s called it a date. I don’t even know for sure if he’s gay. Take it at face value and don’t overthink it, he warned himself.
Of course it’s a date. He smells good, like mate, his coyote nudged. Don’t let him get away.
All too soon, they glided to a landing on Fox Lake and puttered up to the dock. “That was awesome.” Scott couldn’t hide his enthusiasm. “I enjoyed the flight aside from the research. Nice flying and good company.”
A slight blush crept up Justin’s neck at the praise. “Thank you. I had a good time too. And I’m looking forward to seeing you tonight. Six-thirty work?”
“Sounds like a plan. See you then.” Scott climbed out of the plane and waved as he headed back toward the hotel. Justin returned his wave and watched him walk away.
I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s just dinner. But what if that spark really did mean we’re mates? Could I move here and be happy? Could I handle the winters?
Mates. We’d get used to it, his coyote replied. He’d keep us warm.
One step at a time, Scott warned. If you’re right and he’s our mate, we’ll figure it out. And if he isn’t…it’s just dinner.
His coyote gave an exasperated sigh.