by Julie Reece
I don’t answer. My smile weakens as my mom, Piper, and Grizzly’s futures all flash through my mind. What’s expected at home threatens to smother me. “Seriously, sometimes life is more complicated than just one decision.”
“You think?” The way she wrinkles her nose is damned adorable. “Because I’m not at all sure that it is.”
19
Caden
At the park, we unpack our test gear, and I show Autumn how to set up her tent. Once it’s up, I tear it all down and leave her to reassemble everything again on her own.
I hide my grin as she squats on the ground, shoving two ridgepoles together, swearing like a marine. The expression on her face could maim. When she looks up at me I lose it, laughing from a place deep inside. I haven’t laughed like I do with her in a long time. It occurs to me that I can never go back and “unknow” this girl now. There is only before Autumn and after—like any truly defining moment in life—the idea she could be a part of my world both excites and terrifies me.
“So far, camping blows.” She throws a plastic corner fitting at my head, but I catch it midair. Her butt hits the ground, and she lets go, laughing with me. The sound loosens the knot in my chest. She looks so damn cute like that, I want to scoop her into my arms and kiss the breath from her.
“To be clear, I sort of hate you right now,” she says, but I don’t miss the playfulness in her tone.
“It’s mutual, Telsow.” She drops the poles, grabs a nearby stick, and starts doodling in the dirt. “What are you drawing?”
She doesn’t stop to answer. “I don’t know yet.”
I watch the stick move for a while, fascinated. “You like drawing, don’t you?” I cock my head, trying to decipher the quickly forming shapes.
“More than like. I used to talk with my mom. Now I talk with my art instead.”
Kneeling next to her in the dirt, I take the stick from her. Our fingers touch, linger. She flushes with her exhale and my pulse quickens. Three days out here alone with this girl? I’m a dead man. “Slacker. Back to work.”
Her grin is teasing, provoking my imagination to recreate the mind-blowing kiss we shared on the boat. Back to work …
I go through camp safety twice and show her where the bathrooms are. Once our campsite is in order, we head out to Chimney Rock for a hike.
Leaves shake over our heads with each gust of wind. I’m grateful for the breeze cooling the sweat on my body. The air is heavy with blooming honeysuckle. Bees flit from flower to flower keeping Autumn jumpy and on a heightened state of bug alertness. She handles the distance well, though, traveling about ten paces ahead of me, and I don’t mind a bit. From my position, I watch her hike her way to the top. All the running she does makes her leg muscles strong and sleek. Like a jaguar. Her laugh comes easier all the time. We’re both less guarded, playing and goofing off, and I can’t deny it feels good.
On day two, we take the Skyline Trail from Hickory Nut Gorge to Devil’s Head. After hiking for hours in the sun, I don’t know how anyone can smell this nice. My thigh brushes hers. She shifts settling closer. I’d like to think it’s to be near me, but it might just be the drop in temperature.
During the day, I teach her the names of trees, and birds, and show her what poison ivy looks like. At night, we lay near the fire and she sings or points out the stars she knows. We eat, and laugh, and watch fireflies, and all the while a tension mounts. Not the bad kind of tension, the good kind. The deliciously painful sort that has me up at night while she sleeps near me. I chant hourly about how I’m her boss, that she’s my intern to train, that I have goals to reach—and that I still care about any of that shit.
Near the end of our last day together, we take a walk with no particular plan in mind. We’ve tested everything from sleeping bags to camp cookware, and Autumn’s done everything asked of her with little snark. She doesn’t say so, but I think I’ve won her over to the dark side of camping.
In a few hours, she’ll move to an independent campsite and spend the night alone. I can’t prevent her going short of admitting that I brought her here on a bet and half the chores she did early on was stuff I made up for revenge. How do I explain my one-eighty? Confess that I’m into her. So much so, that I can’t breathe, or taste anything, or think straight when she’s around—or when she’s not. I don’t want her to leave me tonight, let alone at the end of the summer. She’d understand, right? Sure she would.
Oh, Quinn would have a field day with this! Me, publically admitting that opposed to a few short weeks ago, I’d rather hold this girl in my arms than push her in the lake. But I’d gladly take the abuse of both my brothers if I could make that happen without losing everything else.
Our hike ends down by Lake Lure. A duck lands in the water near us, but the heavy chop has him taking off again. I kneel at the shoreline, scoop a pile of smooth, white stones, and lay them at her feet, then I make a separate mound for myself.
“Do you know how to skip rocks?” Judging by the crease between her brows, I’m guessing the answer is no. She drops to a seat on the mossy, green log behind her. She’s rarely prissy (unless there’s a bug) and doesn’t seem to care about getting wet or dirty. I like that about her. “Here, I’ll show you.” I hold a stone in my hand. “It’s a short jerky motion, all in the wrist. See?” I make the motion a few times and let go. The rock skips twice and sinks beneath the green water. “Hm.” Must be out of practice. “Your turn.” I lean over, grabbing her hand. Our fingers touch and warmth travels up my arm as I urge her from her perch on the log.
Autumn tosses rocks. One after another, they hit the lake with a plunk and immediately sink to the bottom. Each time I try again to show her, the result is the same. “I think I’m getting worse,” she says with a frown.
I nod. “You might be right.”
“Jerk,” she says, and punches me in the arm.
I don’t argue when she sits down again, and keep my focus on the lake. The wind picks up, bringing the smell of pine through the gulley to the water’s edge. Clouds build over the horizon.
“Do you ever see your mom?” Maybe I’m pushing, but she’s talked more about her life in the past two days than she has the entire time I’ve known her. As if under some kind of craving spell, the more I learn, the more I want to know.
“No.” Her boots scuff the dirt behind me. “After Mom’s affair came out, there was three months of fighting, followed by three months of profound silence. She moved out that March and we haven’t seen her since.”
Once the last rock is thrown, I take a seat next to her. “I’m sorry.” The phrase is inadequate, and all I have to offer.
Her smile is dark, like it’s been cut with a knife. “My dad is a fairly intense individual. I used to imagine that my mother wrote to us, my sister and me, after she left, and that Dad kept all her letters a secret. Burnt them or hid them, so we wouldn’t know how much she loved us, while dreaming the whole time that she most definitely did.”
The childish hope scoops a hollow place inside me. In my mind’s eye, I see the hurting kid she was grow into the combative girl she’s become. I swallow, helpless, watching her carve a deeper hole in the dirt with her heel as she talks.
“Two years ago, when Dad mentioned she’d called looking for some records he had, I couldn’t pretend anymore. She never asked to speak to me, or my sister.”
Autumn pivots raising her knee over mine as I try to concentrate on what she’s saying. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my family since I came up here. Dad probably gets along with Sydney so well because they’re the same. He and I don’t see eye to eye on much, because I think he sees Mom when he looks at me. I’m just guessing, but he said some things last year that are just now clicking into place.
“All along, I pictured this great romance between my parents. I assumed they were happy and Mr. Wilson broke them up. I blamed him for so long, but now I think if they were so happy, how could anyone come between them?
“Mom used to call us her honeymoon babies, but
what if it was more like a shotgun thing. You meet someone. Date casually. You wind up pregnant and walking down the aisle because you think you should.” She rubs a dirty finger on her chin leaving a smudge. “I can’t remember a time when they were affectionate. Us kids always pared off with them. Like two families in one. Maybe they were never very committed. Do you think that could be?”
Leaves rustle in the breeze overhead. When she shivers, I put my arm over her shoulder and tug her closer. Instead of pulling away, she lets her head fall against me. It feels like a gift.
As Autumn spoke, I was struck by the differences in our lives. We’ve both had loss, yeah, but my dad died. He wanted to stay. When Autumn’s mother left, she abandoned them. That’s not even close to the same. Compared to this lovely, broken girl, I have no problems.
Still, she’s asking me what I think. I don’t want to tell her that sometimes people give up. That not everyone is brave or good, and they don’t always do what’s right. I think other times people do their best, and their best sucks, and the fallout hurts like hell. If she believes there was never any love between her parents, maybe she will believe that real love doesn’t die so easily. I want to give her hope, say what she needs to hear, but the truth is … “I don’t know.”
“Yeah. Me neither.”
We sit together. Side by side, we hold each other up, and watch the afternoon pass.
Two hours later, we’re back at the campsite, gathering Autumn’s supplies for her big night alone. Her cell has a full charge with instructions for her to call if she gets lost, or scared, or hell, even if she gets lonesome. She did actually punch me when I said the last, but whatever. I don’t want her feeling any of those things anymore.
“Guess I’m ready,” she says. There’s a hint of excitement in her voice that makes my chest swell with pride. “I’m off to conquer the forest in a small, patrolled state park with no bears or wolves. If I survive that, it’s on to attack formal dress wear and pageant dancing.” Her neck bends back and she spits her gum in a perfect six-foot arc into the nearby bushes.
“Ugh, Autumn! Moo is around the corner, woman.” I want to laugh, but if my mother witnessed what she just did, say hello to Clemson U. Autumn’s wide eyes and clueless expression feed my exasperation. If she fails, I fail. “See that, that right there?” I point to the bush. “You can’t do shit like that anymore.”
“What?”
I rub the stubble on my jaw. “Crack your knuckles.” She glances at her hands, frowning. “Act like one of the guys.” Or a Hell’s Angel. “Your angry rants, spitting, cussing, scowling, snorting, snotting, posturing, you can’t do any of that crap.”
Her eyes narrow. “You want to change me.” It’s not a question.
Ah, hell. “No. I really don’t. But this isn’t about me, it’s about the presentation. You have to be poised and polite. It’s a test, Aud. One we both need to pass. My mom will judge the job I’ve done training you—and your scholarship money, my college choice, everything depends on her approval. We only have a couple more weeks to plan. Ace this and we’re home free.”
She’s staring. Her lips drop to an O, eyes round with shock and something I swear looks like hurt.
My mind locks as I try to rewind my words. What did I say? I’d called her Aud, but that wouldn’t account for the … Oh shit. If I look down, I’m going to find my intestines in a ball at my feet. I said my mother. My mother will judge us.
Her eyes narrow to thin slivers above her cheeks. “You’re him?” Her voice is too quiet, too even. “Caden Behr? The mysterious missing brother is you?”
“Yes.” I answer. There doesn’t seem any point in lying, now.
Her hand boomerangs. My head jerks right, the skin of my cheek tight and stinging from her slap.
Slowly, I face her again. Her fists fly, but I catch her by the wrists before she lands a blow. “Autumn, stop.”
“All this time … ” Her head shakes. “Caden Behr. The same guy I met at the job fair?” Her gaze searches my face, my beardless jawline, trying to put me together with the Duck Dynasty wannabe.
“Yes.” I pull her arms, gently trying and draw her toward me, but she wrenches free of my grasp, eyes blazing.
“That day on the dock, I told you what happened at the gym. I was talking about you, right to your face, and you already knew everything.”
My heart sinks with her every word. I’m drowning on dry land. “I wanted to tell you. You probably won’t believe me, but—”
“You’re right.” Her eyes turn glassy as though she might cry. She wears my betrayal on her face and there’s not a damn thing I can do. “But I did.” Her laugh is sharp enough to cut. “You got me, hook, line, and sinker. I must be the biggest fool on the planet.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make my lie your fault.”
“I’m not!”
“You are! You’re already twisting it into something else to beat yourself up with.”
“Save your psychoanalysis, Silas. Caden. Liar.” Her face flushes. A tear escapes and she viciously wipes it away.
“Not everything was a lie, Autumn.” Regret lights my memory, fills me with remorse over Jesse’s warnings, because now I know. This is why she wanted me to tell the truth. Practically begged me to do it. And I was too stubborn, too stupid, too busy being clever to listen.
“Keep telling yourself that.” She searches the ground. “I’m supposed to spend the night on my own. That was the plan, right? Sounds fantastic,” she says, lifting her water bottle. “Don’t follow me, Sil— Whoever you are.” Her quiet sniff, the sheen over her eyes are painful accusations.
She’s not mad because I’m the guy who tricked her into thinking I was someone else just to save my pride. She’s hurt because she let her guard down, and dared to trust someone again. I’m the embodiment of deceit now. I’ve joined the ranks with her father, and every other guy she’s ever known who has betrayed her, let her down. I’ve been lumped in with that lot.
Desperate to make her understand, I grab her by both shoulders and draw her against me. My arms slide around her small frame. “Autumn, listen to me. Please.” I hear the pleading in my voice, but I don’t care. Her body goes rigid inside the circle of my arms. “Let me explain,” I murmur against her head. I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. I just have to make her listen long enough to fix this. I need her to understand more than I need my next breath.
“No. No! Let me go.” She bursts from me, bends for her pack, and sprints toward the forest.
“Wait!” She flips me off before her red shirt disappears into the brush. I swear something inside me splinters as I watch her running away from me. From the very beginning, there was something wild and fierce about the way Autumn faced me, her imagined enemy. I was challenged by that kind of brazen courage. It’s why I followed her out the gym doors in the first place. Why I wanted her here this summer, only I didn’t know it back then.
This time, I let her go. She needs time, and I will give her that if it kills me.
Jesse’s advice to simply be me burns my ears, now that I’ve outsmarted myself, and she’s gone. The wind whistles through the trees, sending a shower of leaves over my head. Damn rain. I can smell it coming, and it will make for a very long, wet night. I wipe my hands on my shirt and heave a heavy breath. I’ll follow her, of course. Watch to make sure she’s safe, but keep my distance. Once she cools down, she might be willing to talk.
Every cell in my being hopes that’s true.
20
Autumn
Sitting on the front porch swing of the big house, I watch the sun fade in the late afternoon sky. Dexter is inside. Quinn and Jesse are in town, and Silas, scratch that, Caden is off somewhere doing who knows what. Probably finding some random girl to lie to and make her feel as stupid as possible.
The night I ran from Caden, I didn’t know where I was going or what to do. Shocked and furious, I couldn’t even look at him. Afraid I�
�d punch him in the face, or worse cry, I just ran through the woods until I couldn’t run anymore. So much makes sense now. Of course, he brought me here, force-feeding me demeaning chores and an exhausting schedule as payback for what I’d said to him the day we met. Why wouldn’t he? He still needed an intern and who better to torture than the girl who’d told him off. It’s brilliant, really. I’m the chump. He’s been playing me the whole time. And I let him.
Here’s the weird part. The night I spent alone in the forest was an odd success. I left my tent behind but erected a make-shift lean-to and set it up all by myself. It didn’t keep all the rain off, but it was better than nothing and got me through until morning. I used the skills Caden taught me all summer. I wasn’t afraid once. Somewhere around dawn, I woke up to a loud sneeze.
Apparently Caden had followed me after all, hid in the bushes watching over me all night long. Sure, I know I’m his responsibility, his job, but this felt like more than that. Maybe it was the panic in his eyes as I backed away from him, or the desperation in his voice when he called to me, said the word please.
Maybe I’m delusional and just want it to be. Sucker.
The ride back from our camping trip was pure hell. Dead quiet other than me answering yes or no to Caden’s inane questions. When he tried to talk about pretending to be someone else, I told him I had a sore throat (true) and listened to Spotify through phone earbuds to avoid further conversation. Immature? Maybe. But I really think I may be coming down with something, and I am so not ready to deal with him yet. Mostly because no matter how much I want to deny it, the truth is I was falling for him. Hell, falling hard. The fact I let him in while he was happily making a fool of me the whole time hurt more than my pride.
Anger, bitterness, rejection all stir together in the boiling cauldron that is my heart. When that concoction cools, I will pour the foundation of emotional walls bigger than the Great Wall of freaking China. I’m done. I’m Gandalf with my staff, shouting to any boy within a fifty-mile radius, “You shall not pass!”
