He nodded. “My man J had to answer the call of duty.”

“Oh, wow,” I said, “he’s in the military?”

Another wry, mustached smile. “Duty to his soul. He needed to wander this world to find his true purpose, honor the light within himself.”

The other guy spoke up. “Jason got a job at the Honolulu Hilton handing pool towels to tourists.”

“Sean,” Natan sighed. “Our journeys are all our own.”

Sean.

Sean smiled again, at me this time. I offered my hand, which he accepted, and gave one firm shake. Inches shorter than Natan, Sean stood nearly directly at my eye level, and I’m not real tall for a girl. I liked it. Dark eyes, tanned skin, blessedly close-cropped dark hair. “Sean,” I said. “You”—his eyes are so dark, they’re almost black—“work here all year?”

“Sean’s our high school kid. Part-time come fall, right, little bro? I’m full-time,” Natan droned on. “Salishwood’s MS program with U Dub. Guess I’m the big man on campus—in every way, right, little guy?” He punched Sean’s arm.

Sure thing, big jerk.

Sean just rolled his eyes, ducked out of Natan’s punching range, and busied himself tightening the straps on a day pack. He looked up past the lodge. “Here they come.”

Streams of little kids came screaming into the field.

A rush of familiarness swelled in me: raucous, hyper little kids. I felt my whole body brighten, then remembered these kids were my on-the-job interviewers. “Wait,” I said. “Are we— What do I do?”

“Just stick with me,” Natan oozed. He put his hand on my shoulder, and his long, bony fingers massaged my skin through my T-shirt.

I recoiled and ducked away, nearly knocking Sean to the ground.

“Sorry,” I said, moving fast to put Sean between me and Creepy Fingers, who strode ahead of us.

“You hike?” Sean said, eyeing my jeans.

“I…walk,” I said. “A lot. But in the city. On sidewalks. Sometimes in parks. But mostly on concrete…” I stopped walking. “Don’t tell Jane. I really want this job.”

He stopped and turned to me.

“I would never,” he said. “Honestly, hiking is just a dirty walk—God, no, I mean a walk in the dirt.”

I smiled. Muir hated the implied rush of the word hiking. He preferred to saunter through the forest, stroll into the woods.

“The kids are easy,” Sean said kindly. “The trails are all marked; you’ll figure it out as we go. Don’t worry.”

Had I only ever known super-tall boys? Because his eyes were just…still right there at mine, and sort of killing me. “Thank you,” I said. “Sean.”

“You’re welcome. Muiriel.”

We walked together into the swarm of kids.

Three hours and a three-mile dirt(y) walk with a bunch of second graders later, I sat filthy, sweaty, and tired on the bus back to Francine’s house.