by R. S. Kovach
“Thank you for the flowers,” she said once they started driving, touching his hand resting on the gearshift.
“No problem.” He glanced at her with a smile. “Sorry I couldn’t see you again last night, but something came up.”
“That’s okay. I had today to look forward to,” she admitted. “A hike, huh?”
“I hope you’re up for it. There’s a perfect place just next door.” He turned the corner and stepped on the accelerator.
True to his word, within a few minutes they were turning into another hidden entrance leading farther into the wilderness. Coming to a lowered—and padlocked—gate blocking the packed dirt road, Hank stopped the truck and switched off the engine. “We’ll need to walk the rest of the way.”
“Are you sure?” Ali pointed to a sign on the horizontal bar that read NO ACCESS.
Hank waved off her concern. “Tourists have to go around to the main entrance, but since Pebble Creek’s property borders this public park, we can take this shortcut.”
Trusting his judgment, Ali got out and took Hank’s hand. They walked on a forest path for a few hundred feet before the trees disappeared and the landscape opened up to one of the most amazing views she’d ever seen. The large rocks, jutting cliffs, and deep crevices, all composed of the same red sediment, reminded her of a mini Grand Canyon, and Ali tried to stop to take in the breathtaking scenery.
Hank wasn’t so ready for a break. “Come on.” He pulled her along, not wasting time in starting their trek. For the next hour or so, they didn’t talk much, but this didn’t mean there was a lack of communication. Instead, they spent a lot of time touching as they helped each other—which was almost exclusively him helping her—climb up, across, and down the various obstacles along the way.
She appreciated his eager assistance but urged him to go ahead whenever possible for purely selfish reasons. Ali shouldn’t have been surprised at how good Hank looked in cargo shorts. His legs perfectly matched the rest of his lean, muscular body. Still, it was nice to slowly get to know more of him, even if it wasn’t through talking.
Although Hank was clearly more skilled at navigating the uneven terrain, Ali had no problems in keeping up with the physical exertion. Years of show jumping had provided her with a solid cardio basis, and they only paused a few times to grab water from his backpack. Soon they’d stopped on a wide plateau that was high enough to give a great view of the park.
“Wow.” Ali gazed over the surroundings after chugging half a bottle. “This is unreal.”
Finishing his drink, Hank wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “They don’t call it Garden of the Gods for nothing.” Stepping behind her, he pointed to a large rock formation in the distance with one boulder perched precariously on top of another that—for all intents and purposes—shouldn’t have been able to stand. “What do you think of that one?”
“That it makes me dizzy just looking at it,” she admitted, taking an unplanned step backward and trying to focus on the impressive sight instead of the cavernous abyss below.
Stopping her from retreating any farther, he wrapped his arms around her torso. “You really have a fear of heights?”
Ali nodded. “Yup. I can’t explain it and there’s no reason behind it, I just get this feeling like I’m about to plummet to my death any time I’m more than a few feet off the ground.”
“You were fine on the giant swings,” he recalled, still holding her close.
“Aha. But I didn’t look down. Otherwise it would have been game over.” She laughed, attempting to turn around, but Hank kept a tight grip.
“So that’s your secret,” he whispered into her ear before kissing the smooth skin below.
Ali’s posture immediately relaxed and she let herself give in. She closed her eyes and tilted her head to give him better access to the rest of her neck. He gave a soft grumble as if to thank her for the assistance and carried on. Only when his lips had traveled all the way to her collarbone did he pause, but just long enough to scoop her up into his arms.
“Oh!” Ali exclaimed in surprise, wrapping her hands around his neck as her feet left the ground.
Squinting in the bright sunlight, Hank smiled down on her. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall,” he said hoarsely before closing the gap between them.
She parted her lips, fully trusting him and eagerly letting him in. Her fingers caressed the back of his neck, finally getting to touch the cropped hair, which prickled her skin, while her nose gently collided with his in the passionate frenzy.
He suddenly pulled away, a puzzled expression shadowing his face. “Do you hear that?”
Ali momentarily held her breath but shook her head when nothing seemed out of the ordinary. “Was it the wind, maybe?” she guessed, not knowing how he could have heard anything above their own ragged breathing.
He was about to kiss her again when the silence was indeed interrupted.
“Help! Somebody help us, please!” The frantic request came from somewhere nearby.
Drawing away from each other concurrently, they both turned their heads, searching for the source. When the pleas sounded out again, Hank swiftly returned Ali to her feet and grabbed her hand before hurrying in the direction of the calls.
Down a steep incline on the other side of the plateau and tucked under an outcrop shielding them from the sun, they found two older couples. One pair was kneeling next to a man lying on his back, while a woman looked on, quietly sobbing into her hand.
“What happened?” Hank sprang into action, joining the two on the ground adjacent to the motionless body and leaving Ali on the scene’s perimeter.
“My husband just collapsed,” the gray-haired woman next to him explained robotically, a glazed-over look in her eyes as Hank put his ear near the unconscious man’s face. “I don’t know what happened. We thought he just tripped, but he’s not responding.”
“He’s not breathing,” Hank said, reaching for the man’s hand. “Has anyone called 911?”
“We couldn’t get a signal.” The other man stood and pulled out an antiquated cell phone.
“His pulse is weak.” Hank dropped the man’s limp hand and removed his backpack. He tossed the backpack to Ali without missing a beat. “Use my cell and call 911.”
Without waiting for her response, he moved to the man’s head and tilted it back. Ali dug around the bottom of the bag, finally finding the phone before dialing. The emergency operator picked up on the second ring.
“Nine-one-one. What’s your emergency?”
“There’s an older gentleman passed out. His pulse is weak and he’s not breathing.” She repeated everything she knew about the situation, glancing back at Hank. He had just begun chest compressions, rhythmically pushing with both hands on the patient’s rib cage.
There were clicks on a keyboard before the woman continued. “Is anyone else there with you, ma’am?”
“Yes. My friend is doing CPR. Can you please send an ambulance?” She began to pace.
More clicks were followed by a brief pause. “I’m trying to get a fix on your position, but it doesn’t seem like you’re within the city limits. Can you describe your location?”
“Um, we’re at Garden of the Gods. Please hurry.” Her hand trembled as Hank proceeded with mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.
“Ma’am, can you be any more specific?” The operator was polite yet firm in her urgency.
She looked away from the lifesaving activity and scanned the view. “I don’t know. We’re on a ledge and there’s this—”
“Quarter mile southwest of Balanced Rock,” Hank interrupted, his breathing ragged from resuming compressions. Ali turned back and held the phone closer to him as he continued. “We’re about a hundred fifty feet up on the eastern face. The terrain’s too rough for a regular ambulance. Tell them to send a helo.”
She took the phone over
again. “Did you get that?”
“Yes, ma’am. That’s exactly what I needed.” The woman’s obvious relief gave Ali hope. “Please stay on the line; help is on the way.”
Hank continued to perform CPR while the others looked on until the helicopter arrived. Two air nurses quickly took over, and after stabilizing the patient, who’d thankfully begun breathing on his own again, they loaded him into the chopper. Following the obligatory hugs and gushing thanks from the man’s companions, Hank and Ali made the hike back to his parked truck. They walked silently, the ordeal having drained both of their wills for conversation. The drive was just as reserved, although Hank held Ali’s hand in mutual support.
“I meant to ask you,” he said, breaking the silence, while pulling the truck to a stop at the bottom of the lodge. “How much longer are you going to be at Pebble Creek?”
“I think I got the thirty-day special,” she replied, recalling the date of her return flight.
He pulled his lips into a line and nodded. “Good.”
“Why?” She squeezed his hand.
“Well, that gives us a little more than two weeks,” he observed with neither delight nor gloom.
“Yup,” she agreed, realizing how short that time really was, especially given how quickly the hours passed when she was with him. “Am I going to get to see you again soon?”
He frowned. “I’m going out of town tomorrow, but I’ll definitely be around on Thursday. Is that soon enough?”
“No.” She unbuckled her seat belt and leaned in for a kiss. “But I guess it’ll have to do.”
He was smiling by the time their lips separated. “You know, you’re pretty incredible.”
Ali scoffed, her face still just a few inches from his. “Incredibly lucky is more like it. You’re the one who just saved a man’s life.” She searched his light eyes for a hint of how he could stay so calm with everything that had just happened. He may have been reserved in talking about himself, but his actions in a few critical moments revealed more about Hank Mathis than hours of conversation ever could.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “I did what anyone else in that situation would have.”
“That’s crap, and you know it,” she said dismissively. “I don’t know anyone who would have not only figured out what to do so quickly but also gone through with it without batting an eyelash.”
“Maybe you don’t know the right people.” He smirked.
“Well, I do now.” She kissed him again before opening the door and jumping out. She was dangerously close to falling head over heels for this heroic enigma of a man, and Ali feared if she didn’t leave his presence immediately, she’d insist on going home with him. And she wasn’t ready to do that. Not just yet.
“What’s a bloody ropes course?” Wylda turned over the flyer, looking for more information on the back.
“I’ve done that.” Pete reached for the last French fry on his plate. “It’s like an obstacle course mixed with boot camp.”
“I got one of those, too.” Ali nodded toward the paper while sipping her iced tea. “It’s this afternoon, right?”
“Yeah.” Wylda emphatically chewed her gum as she read the announcement again. “It says to meet at two by the barn. Sounds horrid. Do we really hafta?”
“I think it’s considered our group session for the week,” Ali said, recalling the leaflet stuck under her door that morning.
“Oh, you must go. It’s loads of fun,” Sheridan chimed in. “Races, team building, problem solving. Plus they get these cute instructors from the academy to lead the groups. I don’t know why you’d want to miss it.”
“Because I’m going home this weekend anyway?” Wylda narrowed her eyes and grimaced at the other woman, not hiding her disdain for something so superficial as attractive airmen.
“You’re leaving?” Ali ignored the bubbling feud and turned to her friend in surprise.
Wylda twisted a platinum lock of hair around her finger. “Was supposed to go today, but I’m gonna wait for Dave. He’s done on Saturday, and we’re flyin’ out together.”
“So you guys are really serious.” Ali smiled, but Wylda was cut off when Harriet began to cough.
Pete patted the older woman’s back. “Are you all right, G?” Given her seniority in the group, he’d taken to calling her Grandma and had lovingly shortened it over time.
Sitting on Harriet’s other side, Ali offered her water. After a few sips, the wheezing subsided. “I’m fine, my dear,” she answered Pete. “I think I will go lie down. Can you take Marv on a walk for me?”
When Pete tried to pick up the dog, the animal growled and leapt into Ali’s lap instead. “I guess I’ll take him. You go make sure Harriet gets some rest,” Ali instructed Pete, standing up with Marv in her arms. Pointing to Wylda, she attempted her best authoritative scowl. “And I’ll see you in an hour at the barn. Don’t even think about skipping out on me.”
With Harriet resting and her needing to make it to the afternoon’s session in time, Ali had to find a safe place for Marv after his walk. Knowing the little dog didn’t care too much for Pete and left with few other options, she was on the verge of taking him along when she ran into Liz’s children. Sarah and Colin were more than happy to watch the pup, and Ali—in keeping with her recent propensity for lateness—made it to the designated meeting area just before the last hay truck pulled out.
Two of the vehicles—tethered behind industrial tractors and loaded with lodge guests—had already started rolling across the meadow, and Ali climbed into an empty spot next to Wylda before it joined the others. After miming a shrug in apology over the roar of the engine, she sat back and enjoyed the ride as it took them to a distant spot on the property.
Once they unloaded, she could see there were about three dozen participants—all women outfitted in workout gear and cross trainers—assembled in the clearing. As the tractors departed, quiet murmurs began to go through the group, and they looked at each other quizzically, wondering what to do next.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” said a voice that emerged from the tree line before a man in camouflage pants, combat boots, and a tight tan T-shirt stepped out of the shadows. “I’m Major Alan Jeffries. I’ll be leading this session along with my colleagues . . .” He paused long enough for a similarly dressed woman and man to enter the clearing from the adjacent sides he was pointing toward. “Captains Sue Northcutt and Omar Wesley, along with Hank Mathis, who you probably already know.”
Startled by the familiar name, it took Ali a split second longer than most everyone else to turn and see Hank behind her. When she did, he avoided looking directly at her as he stood feet apart and arms crossed, mimicking the other three instructors.
“I want everyone to count off from one to four as we go around the circle. All the ones need to gather in front of me, the twos over there, threes there, and finally the fours over there.” Jeffries pointed to the spots around the team leaders.
Hank was four. As the women began counting, Ali couldn’t decide whether she wanted to be in his group or not. Was this what he’d meant by being around today? Or was this assignment as much of a surprise to him as it was to her? She certainly couldn’t confirm either at the moment, and Ali waited with increasingly sweaty palms as her turn neared.
“Two . . . three . . . four . . . one . . . two . . . ,” the women rattled off before getting to Wylda. “Three,” she called out, turning to Ali next to her.
“Um, four,” she stammered, ultimately feeling relieved at the outcome. Having to pretend there was nothing between them was a small sacrifice to be near Hank for the afternoon, and it also gave her a chance to gain more insight into his personality through casual, organized interaction.
As the assignments were made, the women started to gather around their team leaders, and Sheridan—who apparently couldn’t get enough of organized team building—sauntered to
Ali’s side. “Hey there, teammate.”
Ignoring the woman, Ali introduced herself to the few unfamiliar faces in the group. By the time she was done, Hank was ready to start the session. “Welcome, ladies. I think most of us know each other, but don’t worry if you don’t because by the time we’re done today, you’ll all be best friends.” He smiled, and Ali swore she could hear several of the women around her swooning.
“Each of today’s tasks has a specific objective,” he continued, pacing within the semicircle of onlookers. “How you reach that objective is up to you, but it will require you to work together, so leave your egos and quibbles out of it. The main challenges will not be timed, but for many of them you will be competing against the three other teams. Your wins will mean nothing more than bragging rights, but against those three”—he pointed to the leaders of the other groups, who were giving similar instructions nearby—“I really want to be able to brag.”
When the women of group four stopped cheering, Hank clapped his hands together. “All right. Let’s do this thing.” He led them down a path that ended in a smaller clearing with several wooden obstacles. “We’re going to begin with a few warm-ups, which are designed to get you to work together. These will not be judged against the other teams, but they are timed. If you fail to successfully complete a task, you’ll have to repeat it until you do. Your first challenge is called All Aboard.”
Gathering them around a two-by-two-foot platform just a few inches off the ground, Hank explained the objectives. All ten team members had to be standing with both feet on the structure and remain there for five seconds without stepping off. It sounded easy enough, but after squeezing and crouching and balancing and cursing, it took four tries before they barely managed to complete it.
Next, the group had to work together to pull a giant ring up the length of a ten-foot-tall pole. Thanks to a pair of cheerleaders and a woman whose upper-body strength appeared to rival Hank’s, this activity went a lot smoother.
“I’m impressed, ladies.” Hank nodded, placing his hands on his hips. “One last warm-up and you’ll be ready to kick some ass against the other three teams.”
