by R. S. Kovach
“Who?” Hank’s query came hard and fast.
“You know, my singing voice is terrible, but I think I’d rather you distract me by breaking into a song instead right about now.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m quite enjoying this conversation.” He laughed. “Ladies?”
Another round of hoots came from the crowd, signaling their agreement.
“Majority has spoken.” Hank gloated. “So, you were saying? Who’s the he?”
Ali smirked. It was the first time she had alluded to a prior relationship in front of him and apparently it had touched a nerve. “My ex.”
“He sounds like a smart man.” There was a bitterness lacing the compliment.
After picturing the guy who cared more about getting into the infamous Skull and Bones society than actually having enough credits to graduate from college in time, she couldn’t hold back a giggle. “No, he really isn’t.”
“Then what did you see in him? Was he rich or pretty?” The conversation was clearly continuing to entertain the audience as they laughed along with Hank’s speculation.
“Both, if you must know.” Ali’s heart was pounding in her throat as a perfect comeback crossed her mind. “And he was incredible in the sack.”
Hoots and claps erupted from below, and she missed Hank’s response. It was torture not to at least take a peek at his reaction, but there was no way she’d make it to the top after seeing how far up she was already. Instead, Ali cleared her mind and scaled the final rungs as fast as she could. With nothing more to hold on to than the flat end of the pole—which couldn’t have been more than a foot across in diameter—she hesitated.
“Now stand on top,” Hank yelled to her.
She felt like throwing up, and his pestering didn’t help. “I know, shut up!”
Ali tried to place one foot onto the top of the wooden stump, but her trembling legs—combined with the wind at this height—made the tall, thin pole gently sway with every move.
“I can’t do this,” she yelled, gripping the cylindrical object.
“Yes, you can,” Hank replied without hesitation. There was a tug on her harness as he adjusted the line. “You can’t fall. I won’t let you.”
Her heart was now beating so erratically, Ali thought she’d black out any second. Hearing Hank promise not to let her fall—the same assurance he’d made back at Garden of the Gods—added to her anxiety but also reminded her of the safety measures in place. Yet even if her head knew she had very little chance of getting hurt, her body was doing everything to keep her from crashing to the hard forest floor.
In a blur, she somehow made it to the top of the pole. Standing with her feet together and arms out to balance against the terrifying sway, Ali heard only the beating of her own heart in her ears and saw nothing but the plate-sized rubber ring she had to touch. Pushing off the vertical log and swinging her arms forward, she squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath. Her fingertips barely grazed something cold and smooth before she felt herself falling. In that split second, she thought Hank had been wrong, and she waited for her body to hit the ground. But the rope suddenly tightened to slow her descent, and although the harness dug painfully into her shoulders and thighs, Ali was elated.
The adrenaline, which had given her the ability to complete the challenge, was now fueling her glee at having succeeded. Breaking into uncontrollable laughter, she finally opened her eyes just as her feet touched the ground.
“I knew you could do it.” Hank grinned as he released the line.
Ignoring him, she leaned on Captain Northcutt as two other team leaders undid the harness. Her legs were now like jelly, and as soon as she was free, Ali collapsed on the spot. Still laughing, she waved off their help and managed to sit up.
It didn’t matter where she looked, her mind kept replaying the entire ordeal as if she were an outsider watching the climb on a loop. She wondered whether she could have jumped farther or if there was anything else she could have done differently, while wavering between the hope of perhaps trying to do better next time and the knowledge that once was more than enough.
“You were bloody brilliant, love!” Wylda gushed, running over and giving her a hug.
“How did I look from below? Could you tell I wanted to vomit the entire time?” Ali laughed.
Her friend scrunched her nose. “Maybe a bit at first. It’s good Hank said all the right things to light a fire under ya, if you know what I mean.”
Ali stared in horror. Had it really been that obvious? “No. What do you mean?”
“Excuse me, ladies.” Hank’s sudden appearance prevented Wylda from answering. The petite blonde made an “oops” face, jumped up, and theatrically backed away.
“Wait!” Ali called after her, but Hank offered her his hand.
“No, she’s heading the right way. But we need to get going, too.”
“I’m not going with you.” She shook her head.
“So you’re giving up your prize?”
Ali begrudgingly put her hand in his and got to her feet. She must have still been lost in thought and missed an announcement. “What prize?”
“The four of you who did the pole get to ride back to the lodge. Everyone else has to walk two miles,” he explained, keeping a hold on her fingers longer than necessary. “Are you coming or not? I’m hungry.”
Ali pouted and pulled her arm away. There was no way she was walking two miles. “Fine.”
Most of the others had already begun their trek on foot, and Ali waved to Wylda in the distance before heading in the opposite direction. She followed Hank through the trees, expecting to find one of the tractor-pulled flatbeds waiting on the other side, but instead, she was met with a surprise.
“Horses?” She motioned toward the five animals tethered to a hitching rail.
Instead of answering, Hank walked to a palomino mare and began checking its tack. He pulled on the saddle and found it too loose, so he began fidgeting with the girth strap.
“Oh, let me do it.” Ali couldn’t help interrupting when he ended up bunching up the saddlecloth in the process. After taking over and quickly finishing the adjustments, she stepped in front of the animal and stroked her muzzle. “Is she for me?”
Hank nodded before examining the other horses’ setups. Finding them all acceptable, he helped the newly arrived Shawna, Maria, and Beth take their mounts. When he rejoined her, Ali was still holding the mare’s nose strap, lost in the mysteries of the big brown eyes staring back.
“You could walk her, if you want,” Hank offered. “I won’t force you to ride if you’re not ready.”
“You’ll go ahead with them?” Ali nodded toward the waiting women.
Hank shook his head. “I can’t leave you alone. And I can’t let them go without me, either.”
“Liability issues?”
He smiled. “Something like that.”
Ali sighed. “But the weakest link sets the pace.”
“That’s right.” He nodded.
She looked at the women—their cheeks smudged with dirt and their hair flying out of their ponytails—and then back at the horse. “I’m fine. Let’s go.” Ali untethered the mare, stuck her foot into the stirrup, and mounted her ride. Hank also sat atop his horse and began to lead the procession out of the woods. They followed a clear path, and she only had to keep an eye out for low-hanging branches, occasionally ducking or pushing them away.
In the open field, the others quickened to a trot, but Ali’s sluggish pace soon put her in the back of the group. On the way, she overheard Maria already dreaming about the double order of French fries she was going to be eating for dinner—diet be damned. Shawna on the other hand was hoping for nothing more than a quick shower and a long massage. Beth was more pragmatic, and Ali didn’t begrudge her wish for a cold beer and a movie because at the moment, that sounded like heaven t
o her as well.
When Hank slowed the others and circled around to rejoin her, she didn’t even wait for him to talk. Taking a deep breath, she gripped the reins and nudged the mare with her heels. The only thing that mattered was getting back to the lodge, and Ali swallowed her percolating anxiety. Overtaking her stopped companions, she kept her head down and her focus on each passing yard of ground. The horse’s trot turned into a canter and eventually to a full gallop, bringing her back to the open stable doors faster than she expected.
Dismounting as soon as the mare had come to a stop, she handed off the reins to the waiting Winston. After pausing to catch her breath, she didn’t get more than a few steps away before the rest of her group arrived.
“You were brilliant,” Hank gushed, jumping out of the saddle. “I knew under the right circumstances you’d get over that last stumbling block, but I wasn’t sure if this would be enough.”
She waited until he was facing her before crossing her arms. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You rode back here like a bat out of hell without giving it a second thought.” He pointed toward the stables. “A week and a half ago you couldn’t even sit in the saddle, and today you were so focused on everyone else’s needs, it overcame your fears about falling off that horse.”
Her eyes narrowed as comprehension set in. “You deliberately tricked me?”
“No, I redirected your attention.” Hank pushed the brim of his hat up and gave a satisfied smirk. “Anxiety is a very selfish little bastard. Your brain uses it to defend you, but when you act on behalf of someone else, you replace your own emotions with empathy for others.”
“But you used information that I shared with you privately to do it.” Ali’s voice lowered to a whisper.
“Isn’t that why you came here? To get over that fear? To reclaim your confidence?” He reached out and touched her shoulder. “Does it really matter how we got there?”
“So the ends justify the means, is that it?” Ali shook off his hold. “Did you learn that from Napoleon as well?” Without letting him answer, she said before walking away, “I trusted you, and you betrayed me. And that’s not what I came here for.”
“I seriously need some ice cream.” Ali stood up from the porch swing and placed her hands on her hips. Pete was upset about missing a concert back in LA that night due to his relapse, and—in an attempt to put things into perspective—she’d shared her previous day’s ordeal at the ropes course. Recounting both the terror of the pole climb and the success of the return ride, but leaving out any references to Hank’s personal motivations and their subsequent confrontation, got her an all-knowing look from Wylda. Not wanting to make a big deal out of it, Ali was reluctant to publicly admit that her friend was on to them, so she gave Wylda the universal “don’t you dare say it” stare. Left with a strong craving for the creamy treat even though they’d finished lunch just an hour earlier, Ali finished her thought. “Do you guys want to join me in drowning our sorrows in frozen sugary goodness?”
“For the first time in a really long while, I have no such sorrows to drown. But I could never pass up sweets,” Wylda said, hopping off the terrace’s wide railing.
Pete waved them off. “I’ll save your spots for you.” He leaned back in the padded lounger, drawing his poncho around himself against the afternoon’s wind. “But if there’s any mint chocolate chip, I’d sure appreciate it.”
Ali smiled. “Will do. Back in a jiffy.”
It appeared that she’d had her idea too late, because the self-serve dispenser in the dining room had been shut down.
“Do you think they have some in the back?” Wylda pointed toward the kitchen entrance usually reserved for employees.
Ali shrugged. “It’s worth looking.”
The few members of the staff still around were busy cleaning up from the midday service, but no one seemed to have the authority to admit they could help with their request. After finding a sous-chef who vaguely understood the plight of two women searching for high-calorie comfort food, they were led deeper into the food preparation area and asked to wait.
Do you hear that? Wylda mouthed, pointing to her ear and then past a rack of dry goods.
After a few seconds, Ali picked up a faint but distinct sound. Tiptoeing toward its source, they found Liz McGhee huddled between stacked crates of root vegetables. The lodge’s manager was absentmindedly turning the charm on her necklace between her fingers while quietly sobbing.
Liz jumped to her feet at the unexpected interruption and wiped her reddened face with her shirtsleeve. “Oh—oh, god. Don’t mind me,” she stammered, avoiding eye contact. Her hand shook as she dropped the jewelry, and as the silver pendant fell back against her shirt, Ali got a brief look at the object. There was a flat ring with engraved script framing a small blue heart, and a separate charm shaped like a tiny plane.
“Are you all right, love?” Wylda stepped closer.
Liz nodded emphatically. “Yes. Yes. I’m fine.” When she saw the others’ incredulous looks, she continued. “Just one of those days, you know?”
“I found your ice cream.” The chef rounded the corner, holding a carton full of pint-sized containers. Caught unawares by the unexpected scene, he stopped in his tracks and stared in stunned silence at his disheveled manager.
“Well, give me one too, Silvio,” Liz instructed, pulling herself together and holding out her hand.
The man’s expression relaxed as he offered the women their pick from the variety.
“It’s a good thing that sales guy who came left this sample pack last week.” Liz sniffled before forcing a smile. “I think I’m going to give him a call back and let him know we will be keeping some in stock. Just in case.”
Ali nodded politely. She knew what it was like to have a momentary breakdown where the stress of a certain situation overtook her and all she needed was a quick cry to clear her head. Hoping it was the same for Hank’s sister and not knowing Liz enough to pry further, she left it at that.
“That was really weird, right?” Wylda dipped her spoon into her container of French vanilla after they’d returned to the porch.
Shrugging, Ali took a mouthful of her own pecan caramel treat so she wouldn’t have to say anything one way or another. She was scraping the bottom of the container when one of the ranch hands burst through the side door. A college student from Australia who was spending her second summer working at Pebble Creek, Paulette split shifts with Hank. If she was there, it usually meant he wasn’t.
“Heya, guys.” The young woman’s strawberry-blond locks peeking out from under her tan cowboy hat bounced at her enthusiastic greeting. “A group’s going on an advanced trail ride in about ten minutes. You’re welcome to join us if you’d like.”
“Oh, no. Not me,” Pete said emphatically, licking the last of the mint chocolate chip off his spoon.
Wylda also turned her down. “No, thanks. But you have fun now.”
“All righty.” Paulette smiled, unfazed in spite of the unanimous refusal. Moving on to a couple farther down the covered walkway, she repeated the same perky invitation.
“I kind of want to go,” Ali whispered after she was out of earshot, leaning forward and self-consciously smirking. “Is that crazy, or what?”
Pete’s eyes widened. “Oh, girl! I think we have a breakthrough.” Scooting out of his seat, he gave her a big bear hug. “Of course it’s not crazy.”
“Well? What are you waiting for?” Wylda nudged her from behind. “Go on, then. I have to do laundry before packing, anyway,” she added with a frown.
Ali couldn’t help but grin in anticipation. After running back to her room to change into jeans and boots, she arrived at the stables just in time to join the outing. The group of seven riders started out slow and steady. Their walk to the other side of the lake allowed Paulette to share some colorful stories about her exploits
in the Australian outback, but Ali’s biggest takeaway was that anyone with an aversion to snakes or spiders should just avoid the place altogether.
Once they rounded the calm water and the adjacent mountain, the landscape in front of them opened up and the pace accelerated. Although Ali had started out up front, her reserved trot across the grassy meadow soon put her at the back of the pack. The next two hours were the most nerve-wracking she’d spent at Pebble Creek, and she contemplated turning around no less than three times. But eventually galloping over the rocky landscape with seasoned riders forced her to ignore everything except the task at hand, and her apprehension slowly melted away with each passing mile of terrain. She was already mentally scheduling her next ride when a narrow creek blocked their path.
The others effortlessly cleared the barely-there obstacle, but Ali hesitated. Hanging back, she pulled her horse to a complete stop and had him slowly step across the pebble-lined trickle. Her hands shook the rest of the way back, but after stabling the horse and returning to her room, she had an uncomfortable epiphany.
Hank had been right.
His tough-love approach to making her focus on one fear for the benefit of ignoring another helped her not only get back in the saddle but also willingly go on a ride, even if it was with nowhere near the same confidence she’d had before the accident.
Although pleased with her accomplishment, Ali had a harder time getting past the way he had publicly treated her. She stood under the hot shower letting the spray wash away the trail dust, wondering where that now left them, but no matter which way she looked at it, she kept coming to the same conclusion. Until he apologized, she considered her progress an empty victory.
On Saturday, the sky was cloudy and the air smelled of coming rain, but Ali couldn’t resist going out on a solo ride. Remembering the trouble she had caused on her previous venture into the mountains during bad weather, she stuck to clearly marked paths until a stray pebble in her horse’s hoof forced her off the mount. By the time she had walked the mare back she was running late again, and she scrambled to get cleaned up to meet Wylda in the reception hall.
