by Vella Munn
Although she’d heard this story before, it meant more the second time. Listening to him and having him look at her was incredibly hard. She didn’t want to feel anything for Garret but didn’t know how to begin to make that happen. He was casually dressed in jeans and a brown T-shirt made for his muscled torso. When he lifted an arm, the gesture took her back to when he’d reached for her. Thank goodness she was this far from him. Otherwise, she didn’t trust herself to keep her hands off him.
“Learning to trust and read the mountains is a benefit in this job. Unfortunately, I learned trust can backfire.”
Silence filled the room as everyone waited for him to continue. She sensed his inner struggle, his reluctance to expose too much.
“Thanks to William’s teaching, by the second year with him, I discovered I couldn’t get lost. I’d learned how to read the forest and sky.” He glanced down. “I thought I could teach my sisters the same thing, but I was wrong.”
“Are they all right?” Ben asked.
“Yes, thankfully.”
“So looking for them qualifies as your first official search?”
“Yes.”
“This is still painful for you to talk about,” Ben said, “but if you can do it, your audience will benefit by hearing the details.”
“I know.” His chest rose and fell.
He’d been looking at Ben, but now he stared at her again. Her heart ached for him.
Slowly at first, he painted a picture of what it had taken to return his sisters to their frightened family. The girls, a couple of girlfriends, and one of the friends’ twenty-year-old aunt had headed into Great Bear Wilderness Area supposedly for a twelve-mile hike along Moose Lake Trail and back. What the girls hadn’t told anyone was that they wanted to challenge themselves, prove to their families that they weren’t kids. What had started out as an adventure became a nightmare. Before it was over, Garret’s sisters and the others had spent three nights in the back country. For too long the searchers, him included, had assumed the girls had veered off the Moose Lake Trail. They’d wasted valuable time looking in the wrong places.
“When the girls came across sign of bears and moose, they got scared and decided to head back to civilization. Unfortunately, by then they were disoriented.”
Just thinking about what the girls must have experienced made her shiver. Even with Garret leading the way last week, she’d occasionally been nervous. She would have panicked if she’d been alone when she saw the grizzly.
“Listening to my sisters afterward taught me a great deal. I all but shared their emotions.” He dragged his attention off her and studied the others in turn. “Because of that experience, I understand what happens to someone when they have to admit they don’t know where they are. I’m not saying all of you should experience what I did. Believe me, you don’t want that, but the most important thing you can do if and when you’re tasked with finding someone is to do everything you can to put yourself in their position. Don’t think of yourself as a rescuer. Become the victim.”
“That’s incredible advice,” Ben said when the students stopped clapping. “And here I thought you’d focus on the equipment you recommend and ways of staying in shape.”
“I will talk about those things, but the other needed to come first.”
“Go ahead. Take all the time you need.”
An hour later Amber sat on a bench outside the building where Garret had given his talk. She’d tried to concentrate on the practical aspects but had lost chunks of what he said because she kept replaying his emotional revelation. She didn’t want to be sitting here waiting for him. Heading for Sweetheart would be much easier, no need to try to come up with words when she didn’t know what she was thinking.
There was much more to Garret than she’d suspected and that was what hurt the most. Didn’t he, who’d buried himself in her, owe her more than he’d given? How could she feel close to him if he kept so much from her?
But maybe she was being selfish, thinking of herself instead of trying to get inside his mind like he’d advised the students to do. She didn’t understand why he hadn’t told her about nearly losing his sisters so how could she judge his decisions?
She lifted her head at the sound of the door opening. The overhead light held back the night and made him real. He was alone.
“You’re still here,” he said as he approached.
“Yes.”
He stopped a few feet away with his hands by his sides. “Why did you come?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe I wanted to explain where I was over the weekend.”
“You could have called.”
“Yes, I could have.”
“Why didn’t you?”
The tension in his arms and shoulders confused her. Despite his words, this wasn’t the stance of an angry man. Mostly he looked trapped. She felt the same way.
“That would have been the coward’s way out. Leaving like I did was bad enough.”
“Where did you go?”
“To California to see my niece.”
“I didn’t know you had one.”
There was a lot he didn’t know about her but that cut both ways. “She’s three days old. Seeing her was more important than anything else.”
“Plus you wouldn’t run the risk of running into me.”
If he was intent on making her angry, he’d have to try something else. She couldn’t argue with the truth.
“So you went to school here.” She swept her hand to indicate the small campus. “I attended a massive university. If it wasn’t for that silly sorority my mother pushed me into joining, I might not have had any friends.”
“Oh.”
He looked around as if searching for an escape then fixed on her again. If she’d stood when he’d approached, he might not seem so imposing. So, she realized, he wasn’t the only one who didn’t know how to handle this.
“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” she said. “But I wanted you to know I’m not proud of how I handled things the other day.”
“Not proud in what ways?” He sat next to her with his hips an inch from hers and his warmth holding the night chill at bay.
She stared at the cement path.
“When I was a child and didn’t know how to handle my parents’ opinions—edicts I sometimes called them—I’d get quiet. If I didn’t say anything, they couldn’t fault my words.”
“Why would they do that?”
“Because they were convinced they knew what was best for me. They still are.” She nearly raked her hand through her hair but stopped because she risked touching him. “I don’t want to talk about my parents. They love me.”
“Unlike my old man.”
“Yes.” She struggled to keep from trying to comfort the hurting child he’d once been. “Unlike him. It’s his fault you had to assume the role you did. If he’d still been around, maybe your sisters wouldn’t have done what they did. Your mother—she must have been terrified.”
He pressed his hands against his thighs. “It nearly killed her. Grandma, too.”
“And you.” This wasn’t going to work. A few more words from him and she’d embrace him.
But maybe it was what they needed.
“Maybe me most of all.”
The campus door opened again and Garret’s former teacher walked out. When he stared at them, she thought he’d join them but maybe he realized they were having a serious conversation because he waved and turned left. They again had the night to themselves.
“Why did you say what you did about what happened being so difficult for you?” she asked. “Wasn’t it even harder for your mother and grandmother?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then tell me.”
He sighed and got to his feet, loomed over her looking like a mountain man without a mountain to hide in.
“What I didn’t tell those students is that I’d talked Mom into letting my sisters go on the damn hike.”
“You...�
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“That’s right.” He sounded bitter. “I—damn me—I convinced Mom that because I’d taken them on a few hikes during which I tried to share what I’d learned with them, they were ready to go on one without me. I believed, or told myself I believed that my sisters and two of their equally flaky friends plus the twenty-year-old I had a crush on could handle things no problem.”
“Oh.”
“Yes, oh.” He stared in the direction his former instructor had gone. “My damn fault, all of it.”
“You can’t put all that on your shoulders.”
“Can’t I? William repeatedly cautioned Hunter and me to never take nature for granted. He’d spent his entire life in it. It was his home. But it was different for us and could backfire because we were cocky kids.” He dug his shoe into the grass fronting the walkway. “Because I wanted to prove to a man who didn’t care that I was alive that I’d taken over the role he’d abdicated.”
“Oh, Garret.” She was on her feet before she knew what she’d done, seizing his wrists and holding on. Much as she wanted to say she was sorry for what he’d had to live with, she knew better. “Do you think your sisters were trying to prove the same thing?”
“Yes,” he whispered.
Her parents weren’t perfect, but they would never abandon their children. She hated the man who’d done that to his son and daughters.
“Those were the longest days and nights of my life.” He stared at the stars. “I couldn’t stand seeing my mother and grandmother’s faces. It was easier to be a member of the search party.”
“Was it?”
A groan escaped him. “Maybe not. I was in the middle of a wilderness that had swallowed my sisters. Meri was fourteen, Liana had just become a teenager. All that time when I couldn’t sleep, I prayed they’d see their next birthdays. I wanted nothing more than for them to gang up on me as they’d always done, to ask me to help them study, to have a chance to show them more of what William had taught me.”
“I think they needed William, too.”
“They needed what he represented.” On the tail of a sigh, he looked down at her. “Something I unsuccessfully tried to be.”
“A father figure.”
“Yes.”
He pulled free, but before the loss became too much, he laced his fingers through hers and drew her toward the trees at the campus’ south end. They walked in silence with her heart pounding.
“Hell doesn’t begin to describe what that time was like,” he said. “It was as if I kept dying. I made bargains with the devil. If he’d bring my sisters safely home, I’d give him my soul.”
“I understand.”
He stopped and swung her around so they were face to face. “You can’t.”
“Yes, I can. Garret, something changed inside me when I held my niece for the first time.” She filled her lungs. “I wouldn’t just die for that tiny, innocent, trusting creature. I’d kill if that’s what it took to protect her.”
“Amber,” he said. “Amber.”
She couldn’t ask what he was thinking, couldn’t speak because her throat was too full of the truth. In that moment she understood as she’d never understood anything why Garret had stepped between her and Werner. At his core he was still that nineteen-year-old man-boy whose beloved sisters were missing and he knew too much about the wilderness’ dangers. Undoubtedly he’d tried to protect his mother and grandmother from what was tearing him apart—that the mountains he loved could kill.
He might never fully separate himself from the wounded soul he’d become during that dreadful time.
“I think beneath the surface,” she said, “humans aren’t civilized. If anyone tried to harm my niece, I’d turn into an animal in a heartbeat. Her life means more than mine. I’m certain her parents feel the same way. They’ll probably never have to defend her, but that has to be how you felt.”
Groaning like a wounded animal, he pulled her against him.
“I blamed myself,” he whispered. “The fear I knew my sisters were feeling, that was my fault, too.”
“No, it wasn’t. They made the decision, not you.”
“But I made them believe the wilderness was a benevolent place.”
“You were nineteen years old.”
“And stupid.”
“Not stupid, protective but also naive.” She wrapped her arms around him and held on with all the strength in her. “The same as you did when you thought Werner might hurt me.”
“Maybe.”
“No, not maybe.” She pressed her mouth against his throat and took his essence into her. She’d barely slept the past three nights and shouldn’t trust her thoughts, but she couldn’t remain silent. “Garret, that experience had a profound effect on you. You were afraid your sisters were dead. Thank God it turned out all right, but you’ll never forget what not knowing was like.”
“I tried. I can’t.”
“Of course you can’t. I wouldn’t love you if you could.”
“Love?”
Had she spoken the word? With grass under her feet, the moon and stars above, and Garret holding her, she felt as if she was floating.
“We’re all impacted by what we experience.” She couldn’t get her voice above a whisper. “I come from a professional family, which is why I have a master’s degree I’m not sure is right for me. That’s nothing compared to how searching for your sisters affected you. That, in part, is why you became a forest ranger. You wanted to make up for what you perceive as failing them.”
“I’ve thought about that a lot.”
“You enjoy what you do, don’t you? The kind of life you live.”
“Yes. Mostly.”
“Yeah, mostly. Then just as what happened to Morgan Netel last week, responsibility for someone’s safety gets dumped in your lap and in some respects you become nineteen again.”
“What are you, a shrink?”
On the brink of taking exception to his question, she realized he wasn’t finding fault. “I minored in psychology. Would you like to hear what I learned about Freud?”
“Absolutely not.” He kissed her forehead. “Not seeing you for three days gave me a lot of time to think about how I handled things with Werner.”
“I did the same except for when I was falling in love with seven pounds of perfect baby.”
“I wish I’d seen her, held her. I was too young to appreciate that newborn smell when my sisters were born.”
His tone had lightened. It was as if he was relaxing now that he’d explained. She felt the same way. A weight was lifting from her shoulders, leaving room for other emotions.
“I talked to Henry today about Werner,” she said. “He and Sig are planning an intervention. They hope to get him to see a psychiatrist.”
“Maybe I need to be part of that.”
“Do you think he’d listen to you?”
“You did, so yes, I think it’s possible.” He slid his hands down her arms, leaving small fireworks behind. “I didn’t call you because I knew you needed your space as much as I did.”
“Yes.”
“I spent much of the weekend working on my place doing things that didn’t involve much brainpower. Mom and Grandma invited me over for dinner, but I needed to be alone.”
“I had two plane rides for that. The rest of the time not so much.”
“I think I remember every word the three of us said during the confrontation that blew things apart for you and me.”
Blew things apart. Was that how he saw it, their relationship destroyed? But would he be stroking her arms if he still felt that way?
“Mentally replaying my role in it,” he said, “has had a profound impact on me.”
“In what way?”
Her voice had become tight again. If he said what she was afraid he might, she’d break down. She wasn’t going to beg, never that. But neither could she simply shake hands and walk away from this man.
“You were right. What you and Werner were talking about wasn’t my busin
ess.”
“I tried to tell you that, didn’t I?”
“Loud and clear.”
He let go of her arms and took several steps that brought him to the trees. These were tame, not wild, not the great evergreens he felt at home in. Not the kind she longed to walk among, with him.
“I wouldn’t have done and said what I did if you didn’t mean so much to me,” he said.
“You’re saying...”
“I’m asking you to give me another chance.”
She felt as if she was in a tunnel or cave with his words coming from a distance, either that or she was having trouble interpreting what he’d said.
“Say something, please,” he whispered.
She owed him that, owed both of them. “Those were going to be my words. The time I spent traveling—I went over and over what happened. I didn’t stand up to Werner the way I should have. It was better than I would have done in the past, but I was relieved when you showed up. I just didn’t know how to make that clear without sounding weak. Garret, I’m not used to someone defending me.”
“Your parents—”
“Want me to fit in their mold. They don’t see me as a unique human being. You do.”
“That’s why I don’t want what we started to end.”
This man who would always carry responsibility on his broad shoulders wanted her in his life. She needed the same. Would be incomplete without him.
“I want to go home,” she managed.
“Home?”
“Your place.”
Chapter Fourteen
“She’s precious. How long do you think we’ll get daily pictures?”
“At least for her first year.” Amber pressed her lips to her cell phone where the latest picture of Sharee Kale dominated. “I don’t know if I can wait until Thanksgiving to see her.”
“I’ve been thinking about that,” Garret said. “You won’t start working for the city until your current supervisors find someone to take over what you’re doing now. What if we look at our schedules? Maybe we can squeeze in flying to Sacramento so you can get your baby fix. And so I can hold a newborn for the first time.”
