Slow and steady wins the race, she reminded herself.
Their original itinerary had called for a two-night stay at Camp Three. The extra downtime had put the trek behind schedule. Olivia felt the clock ticking, but she wanted to make sure Marie-Eve sufficiently recovered from her ordeal before she gave the okay to continue the ascent. She couldn’t risk delaying their departure much longer, though, or they might burn through their initial round of supplies before they made it back to base camp.
“Follow my finger.” Marie-Eve’s eyes remained focused and clear as they tracked Olivia’s index finger through the air. “Good. Now squeeze my hands. Ow! I said squeeze them, not break them.”
“Sorry, Doc.” Despite the apology, Marie-Eve seemed pleased by her show of strength.
“Let’s check your balance. Stand up straight, lean your head back, and spread your arms. Excellent. Now touch your left index finger to the tip of your nose.”
“Are you testing my balance or my sobriety?” Marie-Eve asked with a skeptical cock of her head.
“Both. I know you’ve had pot recently. When was the last time you had alcohol?”
“Longer than I care to remember. I’m dying for a beer. At this point, I don’t care if it tastes like yak piss as long as it’s fermented and comes in a bottle.”
“When we get back to base camp, the first round’s on me.”
“It’s a deal.” Marie-Eve touched her left index finger, then her right to the tip of her nose. “Do I pass?” She arched her eyebrows expectantly.
“Yes,” Olivia said, “but I’m going to give you the same lecture I gave Chance. You know your body better than I do. If something doesn’t feel right—”
“Don’t keep it to myself. I got it, Doc. Can we go now?” She rubbed her palms together in youthful exuberance. “I want to tackle that ice ridge.”
Olivia tried to think of a reason to say no. If her research was correct, the first part of the climb had been easy compared to what was to come. Even though Marie-Eve had passed all her tests, was she truly prepared to tackle the most physically taxing part of the ascent? She said she was. Olivia decided to take her word for it, but she planned to keep her on a short leash just in case.
“Don’t make me regret trusting you.”
“Never. One more thing.” Marie-Eve’s playful grin turned roguish. “Waking up between you and Sam has convinced me to amend my views on sleeping with older women. Whenever you two hard bodies are ready to make another sandwich out of me, just say the word, okay? I’ll gladly be your filling any time.”
Olivia’s lingering doubts disappeared. Marie-Eve was back to her old self.
Marie-Eve strutted toward Sam and surprised her with a cheeky swat on her butt, then narrowly avoided being rewarded with a punch in the mouth in return. They sparred for a few seconds, feinting and jabbing like a pair of pugilists in training.
Olivia watched the playful interaction between them. Not long ago, they were butting heads at every turn. Now they were practically bosom buddies.
Sharing body heat tends to promote friendship.
She closed her eyes, remembering the sight of Sam’s body in all its sculpted perfection. The chiseled legs. The toned arms. The rippled abs. The tight breasts. And that amazing tattoo. She could still see the phoenix. Mouth open, wings spread as if preparing to take flight.
She remembered the feel of Sam’s firm hip beneath her hand. The warmth of Sam’s fingers laced through hers. For a moment, she had forgotten the reason they were there. She had forgotten about the climb. She had forgotten about the avalanche. She had forgotten about the other disasters—natural and man-made—that had befallen them on the way. She had forgotten everything except the sound of Sam’s breathing. The softness of her skin. The taste of her kiss.
She opened her eyes before her imagination ran wild. She didn’t have time for romance, real or imagined.
Her pleasant memories of Sam’s body were tempered by the pain in her own. Though she had survived the avalanche, she had not come through it unscathed. Purple bruises dotted her sides. Two bright red marks circled her waist where the rope had bitten through her clothes. She rubbed her sore ribs. Breathing was uncomfortable. Coughing was excruciating. Taking a deep breath was impossible. If she couldn’t keep her lungs clear, she could become susceptible to a bronchial infection, a malady that often proved debilitating at sea level, let alone at altitude.
She popped a couple ibuprofen to dull the pain. She’d be damned if she’d allow a few sore ribs to keep her from accomplishing her goal of reaching the summit.
Physician, heal thyself.
*
Sam checked and re-checked the equipment. She inspected the bindings on the harnesses, examined the ropes for frays, and looked for defects in the carabiners and ascenders. Everything passed muster. If something went wrong today, human, not equipment failure would be to blame.
They had made it to the ice ridge. For the first time, the climbers would work in two-person teams instead of as individuals. The ridge’s incline was steep, though not steep enough for the climbers to be tied together. Instead, they would ascend side-by-side, clinging to ropes set three feet apart.
Chance and Gigi’s departure had necessitated changes to her initial pairings. She and Lhakpa would keep their original partners, but Jimmy and Pasang would alternately pair with Peter. Pasang would take lead on the ice ridge, a strenuous but manageable fourteen hundred foot climb. Jimmy would ascend the ridge solo, checking the ice for faults and inspecting the fixed ropes the others would later clip on to. When they reached the far trickier ice wall in a few days, Jimmy would take lead and Pasang would remain in camp until they descended to base camp to rest for the summit push.
In theory, the pairings seemed solid. The only team that concerned her was Lhakpa and Marie-Eve. Each member of the other pairs had established relationships with their partners. Formed trust. Marie-Eve hadn’t interacted with anyone except her fellow team members, none of whom were experienced enough with ice climbing to lead her up the ridge.
Lhakpa helped save her life. Surely, that must count for something.
Peter wandered over as she laid out the equipment. Though he had been nearly manic the first week, he had been relatively subdued since Marie-Eve’s accident. Sam regretted the circumstances that brought about Peter’s personality change but liked the end result.
“May I talk to you?” he asked. When she nodded her assent, he knelt next to her in the snow. “I just wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for us on this trip.”
“No need to thank me. I’m just doing my job.”
“That’s the part I can’t figure out. Why would someone who’s experienced the tragedy you have climb mountains for a living?”
“What do you mean?”
Alarm bells went off in Sam’s head. Peter must have heard them because he couldn’t meet her eye. He drew tracks in the snow with his fingers. “Pasang told us about, you know, Mont Blanc.”
Sam had told Rae and Jimmy about Mont Blanc years ago. Rae, as far as she knew, hadn’t repeated her story to anyone. Jimmy had evidently told Pasang, who hadn’t been able to keep the tale to himself.
Peter flicked melting snow off his gloves. “Marie-Eve, Pasang, and I have gotten pretty close during this trip. While you and the others were down at Camp One, the three of us didn’t have anything else to do but talk. Pasang told us about…everything you’ve been through. He told us in strictest confidence and made it quite clear the story was not to be repeated. I won’t mention it on my vlog or anywhere else for that matter. Your secret’s safe with me, Sam.” He extended his hand. “Thank you for saving Marie-Eve. And please accept my condolences. For Sanath and for Bailey.”
A lump formed in Sam’s throat. She tried to swallow it down. Each day of this trip, she felt more accepting of her past. More comfortable with her present. Would she eventually come to terms with both? The prospect, which she once thought unreachable, now seemed attainable.
*
Jimmy climbed the ridge first. Olivia envied his economy of motion. His smooth movements made a difficult task look uncomplicated. Lhakpa and Marie-Eve followed, each clipping on to one of the pair of ropes draped across the steep incline. Olivia watched their progress with trepidation. Less than a week ago, Marie-Eve was virtually at death’s door. Now she was resuming her ascent of one of the world’s deadliest mountains. Would she make it to the top of the ice ridge or run out of steam along the way? Seemingly mindful of Marie-Eve’s recent travails, Lhakpa set a nice, easy pace. Marie-Eve matched his tempo with little effort. When she and Lhakpa climbed off the ridge and joined Jimmy in Camp Four, Olivia could hear her jubilation even from afar.
“Pasang. Peter. You’re up next.” Sam made sure their crampons and harnesses were secure before she sent them on their way.
Pasang and Peter worked well together. Pasang set the pace and Peter matched his rhythm. It was almost like watching them make love.
As Pasang and Peter continued to climb, Olivia looked over at Sam. Her expression was mixed with equal parts pride and apprehension.
What must have been going through her mind? After the tragedy in Mont Blanc, the unease she felt each time she watched relative novices climb a sheet of ice must be overwhelming. She appeared outwardly calm, but Olivia could sense her inner turmoil. Sam chewed her lip as she cast anxious glances at Pasang’s and Peter’s departing forms. She adjusted and readjusted the fit of her helmet. Subtle but obvious signs of the pressure she was placing on herself. Pressure Olivia felt as well. Until they reached the rock bands above the ice wall, they would be under constant threat of an avalanche. One bitch slap from Mother Nature was enough.
“Nervous?” Sam asked.
“I was hoping it didn’t show.” Olivia tried to laugh. Even to her own ears, her attempt sounded hollow and forced.
“Remind me not to take you to Vegas any time soon, Doc. You need to work on your poker face.”
Whether seriously or in jest, this was the first time Sam had mentioned continuing their acquaintance after the climb ended. Did Sam want to see her again or was she simply trying to keep her spirits up before they took on the ice ridge?
Olivia looked up at the jagged sheet of ice.
Better to ask her after the leg than before.
“Ready?” Sam tugged on the long nylon ropes.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Sam clamped her ascender, also known as a jumar, to one of the ropes and slid it up the line. After she pulled herself up with the jumar, she dug the toe of her right boot into the ice. She followed suit with her left. She repeated the process again and again, climbing the steep slope a few feet at a time. On a parallel line, Olivia mirrored her movements. Whenever Sam began to pull ahead, she slowed to allow Olivia to catch up to her. Each time Olivia drew even, Sam offered her encouragement.
“Good job. Way to go. We’ll be in camp in no time.”
Halfway into the climb, Olivia began to wonder if Sam’s idea of “in no time” was radically different from hers. Using her crampons like emergency brakes, she tried not to slide down the ice as she paused to catch her breath.
Even though the ridge was cold to the touch, its frozen surface collected energy like a solar panel. The UV rays reflecting off the ice made Olivia feel as if she were roasting inside a microwave. The ibuprofen had barely taken the edge off the ache in her ribs, multiplying the discomfort of the climb.
Many mountaineers embraced climbing not for the thrill of reaching the summit but for the purifying pain they felt on the way.
If this trip is supposed to be cleansing, I should be as pure as a bar of Ivory soap by the time it’s over.
A sharp twinge in her side nearly buckled her knees.
She didn’t think her ribs were broken, but at least one was definitely cracked. She was willing to bet her license on it.
She dragged her forearm across her sweat-drenched forehead. She needed something to distract her from the pain—and the fact that she was precariously perched on a slippery, ice-covered slope some twenty thousand feet above the ground.
“Sex on the Beach, an Old-Fashioned, or a dirty martini?” she asked when she pulled even with Sam.
Sam looked at her as if she just sprouted a second head. “Excuse me?”
“Something new school, something old school, or a bit of both. Which do you prefer?”
“I don’t do umbrella drinks. I’m a Gorkha kind of girl.”
The muscles in Olivia’s legs trembled with effort even as she felt the tension leave her shoulders. “I don’t think that was an option.”
Sam flashed a ghost of a smile. “If you want to get inside my head, Doc, you need to broaden your horizons.”
With two long strides and a powerful pull on her ascender, Sam advanced up the mountain. Olivia chased after her. After fifteen minutes of steady climbing, Sam slowed to let her catch up. Olivia quickly closed the gap. If their previous encounter was any indication, she would be allowed to ask only one question before Sam moved on. She needed to make it a good one.
“Boxers, briefs, or granny panties?”
Sam laughed so loud the sound echoed off the ridge. “Granny panties.”
“Nope. Try again. I distinctly remember seeing you step out of a pair of bikini briefs a few days ago.”
Sam’s smile grew. “Then why ask a question you already know the answer to?”
In a flash, she was gone again, and Olivia was once more forced to pursue her. The extra carabiners she carried crisscrossed her chest like bandoliers, making her feel like a long-lost soldier from the Mexican Revolution. The metal loops tinkled like wind chimes as she raced after Sam.
“Truth or Dare, Scrabble, or Monopoly?”
“I don’t play games.”
Sam’s eyes bore into hers. Olivia grabbed the metaphorical wheel before the conversation fishtailed into more serious subjects. “Not even Sudoku?”
“Not even. Unless there’s something else you want to ask me, I’m going to get back to climbing now.”
Olivia watched Sam’s tight ass rise above her, the most tantalizing carrot on a stick she had ever seen. “Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.”
Sam looked back at her and grinned. “I’m sure you will.”
“Classic car, Harley, or hybrid?” Olivia asked during the next round of questions.
“That’s an easy one. A jet black nineteen sixty-five Mustang convertible with red leather seats, a white hardtop, seventeen-inch tires, and all the original accessories.”
Olivia could see herself riding down the highway with the top down and vintage tunes blasting. The wind in her hair, the sun on her face, and Sam’s arm across her shoulders. She was amazed how quickly the images came to mind and how right they seemed.
She thought she and Sam were well on their way to becoming friends, but she couldn’t decide if she wanted friendship to be the final destination or simply the starting point on an even greater journey.
“Bruce Springsteen, the Beatles, or the Rolling Stones?”
“Fleetwood Mac before they started experimenting with the lineup. Give me Stevie Nicks’s rasp and Christine McVie’s smoke and I’m all yours.”
Olivia made a mental note to update the playlist on her iPod.
“We’re running out of real estate, Doc. You’d better hurry if you want to get to the good stuff.”
Olivia looked up. Roughly sixty feet separated them from the top of the ridge. She had time for one more question, two at the most. She had learned more about Sam in the past seven hundred feet than she had in the previous twenty thousand. Why did today’s leg have to be so short?
“Happily ever after or to be continued?”
“In the real world, there’s no such thing as happily ever after.” Sam’s eyes lost some of their previous luster. “But if you’re talking about a book or a movie, I hate plunking down twenty bucks and walking away pissed at the end. Give me the sappy finish every time.”
“I never pictured you as a hopeless romantic.”
“I’m not. I’m just hopeless.”
“So you say. I’m not planning on giving up on you just yet.”
Olivia removed one glove and brushed her fingers across Sam’s cheek. She sensed such a dichotomy in Sam. Physically powerful yet emotionally vulnerable. The contrast tugged at her heart.
She traced the line of Sam’s strong jaw with the back of her hand. She looked into her eyes, daring her to pull away. Sam moved closer. She leaned against Olivia’s hand, nuzzling her cheek against her palm like a kitten begging to be stroked.
“One last question.” Olivia moved her hand to the nape of Sam’s neck. She wove her fingers through the short locks that peeked out of the back of Sam’s helmet. “Top or bottom?”
Marie-Eve’s voice broke the spell. “Are you two going to hang out making goo-goo eyes at each other all day,” she said, leaning out over the ridge, “or are you planning on joining the rest of us sometime soon?”
Sam chuckled as she moved away. “Tell me again why we wanted her to wake up.”
Olivia flexed her fingers as she pulled her glove over her hand. “It’s not too late to knock her out again. If you hold her down, I’ll do the honors.”
“You got it, Doc,” Sam said with a wink that made Olivia’s stomach turn somersaults. “See you at the top.”
*
Sam pulled herself over the edge of the ridge and unclipped from the rope. As soon as she slipped off her harness and jumar, Jimmy gathered the discarded equipment and ferried it to the supply tent.
She took a long look at each of the other climbers. None seemed the worse for wear. Marie-Eve was acting as cameraperson while Peter interviewed Pasang for his latest vlog. Jimmy and Lhakpa stood on the sidelines, trying to keep their laughter at bay while Pasang had his fifteen minutes of fame.
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