by Lea Coll
“So don’t freak out when we get to the cliff-side trail?” I teased, but nerves made my voice waver.
“Please. It’s best to stay calm, trust that I’m experienced, and I won’t let anything happen to you.” His tone was confident.
The steady thud of my heart slowed. Henry was cautious. He knew what he was doing. “I do. I trust you.”
Something shifted in his expression, uncertainty to admiration.
My chest swelled under his gaze. “I’m ready.”
I was excited for the unknown, whatever Henry wanted to show me. My life in New York was nothing compared to what he’d already shown me in the past few days. If he thought the risk was minimal and the ghost town was worth seeing, I wanted to do it.
Henry placed the sleek black helmet over my head before putting on his own. He climbed onto the seat, holding out his hand to me.
This was the last chance to back out, to say no, or I could say yes to doing something new and exciting. I lifted my foot over the seat, sliding behind him.
“Hold on tight.”
At his command, I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding on tight. My heart was pounding hard again for a different reason. Henry wore a snowsuit like I did, but I could feel the hard planes of his body underneath.
Trusting him to keep me safe seemed like something impossible a week ago when I didn’t trust my own parents to take care of me. I’d never laid that trust on anyone’s lap again. But this thing with Henry was quickly spiraling. I was getting in deeper with him and he had no idea.
He turned the throttle, the engine revving before he took off. The wind blew against my cheeks but otherwise, I was warm under the helmet and clothes I wore. My body hummed with the power of the machine’s engine under my legs.
The thrill of what we were doing shot through me, building as we took the trail labeled Imogene Pass. The further we climbed, the narrower the trail—I saw what he’d warned me about—the steep drop off. My stomach pitched.
I heard Henry’s voice in my ear even though he couldn’t have spoken over the roar of the engine. I’ll keep you safe. I took a deep breath, believing him. It would be worth it. Henry would be proud of me for sticking with it. For trusting him.
By the time we got to the top of the mountain, my muscles were sore from holding onto Henry and the stress of being so close to the edge. Cutting the engine, Henry pulled off his helmet. “You can get off.”
I shifted, removing my stiff arms from around his middle, using his shoulder to push off the snowmobile, not seeing anything.
Stepping off next to me, he said, “I thought we’d hike a bit. The snow can be packed high but it’s not bad today. I want to see your reaction.”
“Okay.” I trusted his judgment. I wanted to trust him with more. I wanted to let go completely, tell him what I wanted, to see if he felt the same way. My breath hitched from the idea of being so free with someone when I hadn’t been that way since I dated my college boyfriend. No one I’d met since had been worth the risk to my heart.
He paused, pulling off my helmet. “Are you okay?”
I took stock of my sore, stiff muscles, and the racing of my heart that felt like it would never slow. “I think I am.”
He smiled as if he was proud of my answer. He pulled me into his chest. “It’s okay if you’re not. Stronger people have turned back.”
“I could see that,” I said into his chest, his arms tightening around me. I sank into the sensation, feeling safer than I had when my arms were wrapped around him. I wanted to close my eyes and never let go.
A few seconds later, he took a step back still holding on to my upper arm. “Let me tell you a little about the history of Tomboy.” He raised his brow as if he expected me to say I’d already read up on it.
“I promise I didn’t look online. I wanted to experience this with you.” Admitting that felt like taking a step off that cliff we’d traveled on the way up the mountain—exhilarating and terrifying. It was that moment right before an orgasm crashes through you, the feeling that it’s just out of reach, impossible to achieve, overwhelming once it did.
“Good girl.” He tapped my nose lightly with his gloved finger.
My breath hitched at the words, distracted by the cutesy move of his finger on my nose. What did it mean? Was I like a sister to him, a friend? Could he see me as someone more? I tried to focus on his face, the excitement making his eyes bright.
“So, Tomboy was a thriving mining town in the late eighteen hundreds to early nineteen hundreds. Originally, gold was mined, then later zinc. It was unusual for a mining town in that it had tennis courts and a YMCA in addition to stores, cabins, and a school. A stagecoach passed through daily carrying passengers and mail. You won’t find it on a guidebook to ghost towns in Colorado, but I assure you it’s the best ghost town you’ll ever see.”
He stopped talking, pride evident in his tone.
“This is what you should be doing.”
He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
“This. You should be a tour guide, taking people on excursions, describing what they’re going to see. You know the history. You’re passionate about the area and it shows. You’re amazing.”
His cheeks turned pink, and I didn’t think it was from the cold. “Thank you, but you saw how treacherous the ride up was.”
“So, you have guests sign a waiver like any other tour company.”
His gaze traveled around the crumbling buildings before settling on me. “I told you I’ve been thinking about it. It’s taking that first step on a new adventure that’s always the hardest.”
A warmth spread through my chest that maybe me being here was helping him see his potential with the lodge at the same time he was showing me a good time.
He held his hand out to me and I took it, excited that I was experiencing this for the first time with him. He led me to an overlook. “We’re thirteen thousand feet above sea level.”
We paused, standing side by side, taking in the view of Telluride and the waterfalls.
“It’s spectacular.”
“I wouldn’t have brought you up here if it wasn’t.”
“Thank you.” I didn’t say anything else since it was obvious why I was grateful. I never would have come up here without his suggestion, if I didn’t trust him. It was worth the treacherous ride up the mountain.
After taking in the view for a minute, I asked, “Can we see Tomboy now?”
“I saved the best part for last.”
We hiked over a small incline until the crumbling remains of the town came into view. We fell silent taking it in. I sensed that even if Henry had been up here many times before, each time was just as awe-inspiring as the first. The town itself was larger than I expected with it being so high up on the mountain. I tried to imagine how they were able to get everything up here to build. We carefully walked through what remained of the town. Pieces of leather from shoes, shards of porcelain, glass, and fabric pieces from blankets were strewn on the ground.
“I can’t believe some historian hasn’t come up here to remove the artifacts.” I stepped carefully over the remains of the people who lived here.
“Or that tourists haven’t taken it.”
I leaned into him wrapping my free hand around his bicep. I felt closer to him here as if we were the only two people in the world. “I’m glad they didn’t.”
“Another little known fact is that the boarding house was built above a vertical mine shaft with a spiral staircase so miners could get to work easier.”
“That makes sense. The weather up here would have made it hard to get to work on time.”
I could close my eyes and imagine the crumbling buildings as they must have been—the people walking around town, living their lives, the stagecoach visiting with mail and more visitors. I imagined a bustling town.
“There are plenty of ghost towns in Colorado, but this one is the biggest and has the most to see even if it’s difficult to get to. The pass is closed
most of the year due to unpredictable weather.”
“Only a determined few get to see this.” Leftover adrenaline from our ride up the mountain coursed through my veins, making me feel like I’d drunk too much caffeine. I wanted to do something with the excess energy, but what?
“Want to eat a snack by the overlook to Telluride?”
“Sure.” As impressive as the town was, it was still creepy.
We headed back over to the overlook, finding a rock to sit on. Henry got out what smelled like homemade granola.
Taking a bite, I asked, “You made this?”
“My mom makes it for me.”
“That’s so nice.” I knew his family was different but something about the fact she prepared food for him as an adult, even if it was only a snack, was like a punch to the gut. I took a sip of water, hoping to soothe my dry throat.
“Do you see your parents often?”
“Not really.” There was no other word for the soul-crushing loneliness, the silence on their end. No how are yous, or what are you up to, just nothing. We had a video call a couple of times a year where I pretended I was fine, that I was okay with their blatant disregard for me. Seeing his disturbed expression, I continued, “Don’t feel sorry for me. It’s fine. I’m used to it.”
“You’re used to your parents being absent from your life?”
I shrugged, unease prickling my skin. I’d revealed too much. “I’m an adult. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. I’m sorry your parents aren’t what you deserve.”
I wanted to fill the silence with words of assurance. It was fine. They’re fine. But the words were empty.
“You can create the life you want. Surround yourself with people that feel like family. That’s what Gray has done. I know it’s a long process to let in new people.”
“I trust you.” I was surprised how he understood where I was coming from. I made a joke about my parents being more in love with each other than with me and that was as far as people probed. They backed off because most people didn’t care to know the hard ugly truth underneath. It made them uncomfortable. It made them examine their own lives.
“And that isn’t easy for you.”
I’d put on sunglasses when we toured the town because the sun was blinding. Now I was glad he couldn’t see the tears prickling my eyes. “It’s not.”
“You’re going to be okay, Kelsey.”
A heaviness that had always been on my chest, broke apart, shifting around. I wanted to lift it off entirely, freeing myself from its weight, but I couldn’t. Not yet. I wasn’t ready.
I breathed through the cracks the shift made, wondering if I could do something proactive about my past. Put it behind me to eventually feel less lonely and abandoned.
Before I could respond to his affirmation that I’d be okay, he said, “Are you ready to head back down? I want to make it back before it starts to get dark.”
Grateful he’d changed the subject, I nodded.
The ride down felt freer than the ride up. I wasn’t tense, worrying about what to expect. I enjoyed the view off the side of the pass for what it was, beautiful, another once-in-a-lifetime experience that Henry showed me. I couldn’t help but think we were forming this bond through these experiences, drawing closer to each other.
Wrapped around his strong body, I wanted to be one of those women who could ask for what she wanted—whether it was a one-night stand—or a chance at a carefree life. Maybe with him, I could be. Then when I returned to real life, I’d go back to city Kelsey, the one content with her job, not wanting anything more.
I’d been resigned to my solitary existence for so long it was hard to imagine anything else.
When we got back, I walked through the snow, unsteady from the long ride on the snowmobile.
My mind was unsettled. I wasn’t ready to say goodnight. The magic of Tomboy, seeing something few people ever got to experience, made me want to do it again. I wanted to chase that feeling—the spike of adrenaline after an adventure or doing something dangerous. And I wanted to do it with Henry. I felt safe with him.
Not unlocking my door, I leaned against it. I tipped my face up to keep his gaze. “You mentioned ice climbing the waterfall when we were on the helicopter the other day.”
“That’s right. It’s an amazing experience. You should definitely try it someday.”
“What if I wanted to try it now? Would you take me?” He’d promised Elle he’d show me around, and he’d said I was his guinea pig for leading excursions. I hoped he’d say yes.
His eyes shown with admiration. “Are you sure?”
“I like trying new things, but something about today, riding the snowmobile next to that cliff, it got my blood pumping.” In a good way. I didn’t get that sick, panicky feeling that no one would be there if something happened. I knew Henry wouldn’t let anything happen to me.
He pushed a piece of hair off my face; the move was so gentle and so sweet, my breath caught and held. “Are you an adrenaline junkie now?”
His expression was affectionate.
“Honestly? I don’t know. I just want to prove to myself I can do it.” He scanned my face, probably making sure I was serious.
“I feel safe with you.”
“You will be.”
“Will you take me?” I wanted to take this step with him.
“Of course. You’ll feel amazing once you’ve done it.”
I smiled. “That’s the feeling I’m chasing.”
Every day in Telluride felt like a departure from my New York self, and a return to the wild days of my youth. There had to be a happy medium where I was free to explore as long as I was safe and had someone to catch me. I hoped that person would be Henry.
Chapter 11
Henry
* * *
I got the crampons, ice-axes, and rope ready for our hike to the waterfall. It would take an hour to hike to the base of the waterfall, then however long it took to climb to the top. It’s a difficult climb. Even if she only made it part way up, it would be an accomplishment, but I wanted her to get the full experience. I wanted her to leave Telluride feeling strong―like she could do anything.
I ignored the pang at the thought of her leaving.
“This is a once in a lifetime experience. We don’t have to climb the waterfall. I won’t mind if you want to turn back.”
“But I’d always wonder what if.”
“We can try again if you don’t feel comfortable climbing today.”
“I want to do it.” Her face was determined.
“I want that for you too. I think you can do it.” I wanted her to get the adrenaline spike but also the confidence that only came with doing something amazing. Something most people never attempted.
Her expression softened. She laid a hand on my arm. “Thank you for doing this with me.”
“I wouldn’t want you doing this with anyone else.” The realization swept through me, making me feel light-headed.
As required, we signed our names on the registry located at the kiosk on the trail to the waterfall. We took a picture to commemorate the moment.
“It’s about an hour hike to the base of the waterfall.”
“We’d better get going then.”
When we arrived at the base of the waterfall, we paused, taking it in. Four hundred feet of narrow pillars, shrouds, and car-sized icicles. “It’s intimidating, isn’t it?”
Her lips tipped up. “It looks like frozen cauliflower.”
Her cheeks were red, her eyes bright with excitement. “Some of the icicles are the size of skyscrapers.”
We gaze up, silent in our awe of this once-in-a-lifetime view.
I rubbed the crick in my neck I got from looking up at the waterfall. “It will the hardest thing you’ve ever done.”
I wanted to give her an out in case she changed her mind. Just seeing the frozen waterfall up close was something few got to see. It was still special.
She smiled at me, her eyes filled
with a mix of determination and excitement. “But it will feel amazing when we do it.”
I liked that she said when she’d do it, not if. “It will be exhilarating. The most incredible, vivid thing you’ll ever experience.”
And we’d experience it together, making it that much better. I pushed back any thought of how couples who did dangerous things together like bungee jumping or parachuting out of a plane felt closer afterward. I wanted this for her.
There was still a chance she’d back out or say no, but all I sensed from her was radiating confidence. “I’m ready. I want that feeling. It’s like I’ve been dormant for years waiting for something to happen to me but not doing anything to get it for myself.”
I chuckled. “This is quite the way to make things happen.”
“I want to prove I can do this. I can do something crazy but still use caution. With the right person, I know I’ll be okay. I trust that you wouldn’t be here doing this with me if you didn’t think I could do it.”
Her words warmed me from the inside out. I loved that she trusted me, that she thought I was the person to do this with. “I’m confident you can. On the way up, you’ll be hyper-focused on where to place your feet and hands. The mental and physical work is exhausting, but it’ll be worth it when you get to the top, and then you get to enjoy the exhilarating ride down.”
She smiled, seemingly not put off by anything I’d said so far. “I know I’ll be sore tomorrow, but the memories will last a lifetime.”
She pulled out her phone. “Take a picture with me before we start? I want to remember this moment.”
“Of course.” I was pleased she wanted to remember me, not just the frozen waterfall.
I took her phone, my free arm sliding around her shoulders. I took several pictures, handing it back to her when we were done. She scrolled through them, looking at each one. We both looked happy, almost radiant.
“Thank you for doing this with me, for not talking me out of it.” She tucked her cell into an inside pocket of her jacket.
“You’re welcome.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat, the one telling me I wouldn’t get more moments like this with her. She’d probably find another guy to do these things with her in the future.
