by Katie Cross
“The question is, what do we do now?” I murmured.
Several attempts to speak yielded nothing on his part. I wrapped my arms around my knees and let the silence ride. The canoe gently rocked. The smell of the lake, the occasional blip of the water, soothed me.
Devin seemed to war with himself, as if he had something he wanted to say but didn’t know how to say it. I wondered what thoughts lay behind those tight lips.
“What makes you happy now, Ellie?”
The question caught me by surprise. “What?”
“There’s so much I don’t know about the last three years, so I want to know what makes you happy now.”
Startled, I responded with my instinct. “Freedom.”
He lifted an eyebrow in silent question.
“College wasn’t a good fit for me.” My nose wrinkled. “I tried half of a semester at the state university, but I couldn’t do it.”
What I didn’t tell him was that ghosts chased me away. That his absence was a living entity that walked me to class. His ghost accompanied me home and sat with me in a loud apartment cluttered with girls swapping mascara and sequined shirts. Their drunk boyfriend-of-the-day laughed loudly in the other room as if they owned the place. Always unpredictable. Sometimes in my stuff. When I became angry that they entered my room without permission, they laughed it off. The scent of alcohol stained the air every weekend. Memories of Jim had come back to haunt me in big ways, making it impossible to feel safe.
I skipped over the memory of the guy that pawed at me when my roommates held a party. I’d dislocated his arm and had to file a report with the police. Or the group of guys that surrounded me on campus as if to ask me directions. They tried to back me up against a wall. I’d kicked one in the throat, slashed another in the eyes with my keys, and the third one fled before I could turn on him.
Those things didn’t need to be said yet.
“What didn’t you like?” he asked.
I shrugged.
“Everything. Classes. Restrictions. A single career path. Someone else telling me to pay them money to educate me on something I might not want to do in ten years.”
Most people recoiled when I stated my opinions about college. They judged my job at the coffee shop and seemed to quietly ask: and this is so much better? Some people just smiled at my less-than-popular opinions, acting as if I was young and would rush back to college later when I learned the truth.
“I didn’t need a professor to tell me how to start a fire without matches. How to survive for three days with only the clothes on my back. I already did those things, and that’s all I wanted to keep doing. I wanted freedom in the mountains. So, I came home.”
To my surprise, he grinned. “I always thought you’d hate college.”
I chuckled. “Turns out you were right.”
“What happened next?”
He leaned forward again, arms braced on his knees, as if hungry for the details. Genuine interest lay there.
“I came home,” I said. “Dagny and Hernandez married in a Christmas ceremony at his abuela’s house, so I moved into the loft and took over the Frolicking Moose. JJ Bailey has been taking me on climbs with him a few times a month, so I’m skilled at that. Got my boaters certification. First aid. CPR. Avalanche training. Licenses. Practiced downhill winter skiing. Anything I could do outside that would eventually get me to where I wanted to be.”
“Adventure guiding.”
It wasn’t a question.
My grin grew. “Guiding.”
Devin scoffed.
“I had to earn Daniel’s trust somehow, so I dove into all the outdoor adventure things I could find. He thought I was too young and inexperienced at first, and . . . he might have been right.”
I winced. Admitting that concession always stung. Devin grinned, but it was half-hearted and quiet.
“He has let me start small. Half-day hikes, full-day hikes. Some boating and fishing. Winter traffic is big, especially for backcountry skiing. After working for him for two years, assisting on some guides, and learning a bit more, I’m going to do my first overnight guide this summer.”
“Freaking sweet.” He grinned wide, and the skin around his sunglasses wrinkled. “You’ve been busy.”
My heart settled a little. No judgment from him, of course.
“It’s perfect for you.” He tugged on the fishing pole. “When is the first overnight guide?”
“Soon, I hope.”
He studied me for a moment. “Being outside makes you happy, just like always.”
I tilted my head back to the sun.
“Like always.”
“Wild child,” he murmured my most used childhood nickname with an undeniable warmth.
We fell back into thinking, but this time it felt easier. I filtered through all he’d revealed while I leaned back and surrounded myself with sunshine. Devin tugged on the worm, which had long since sunk, and recast it. We lacked only Thor, who we used to bring out with us as a puppy, and with him this would have been a perfect canoe trip.
For the next hour, occasional small talk filled the time, but not much of it. Devin seemed content to sit with his pole and not get a bite. His thoughts, like mine, were far from fishing. The quiet was a welcome reprieve after the day at the shop, and we fell into it the way we used to.
Just as my stomach started to grumble, Devin reached for the paddle. Wordless, I grabbed mine, and we started our way back.
White strings of lights from the Frolicking Moose welcomed us back. Inside, our new barista Dahlia bustled around, visible through the drive thru window as she attended to customers. Lizbeth’s book club filled the back room, which looked out over the lake. They’d see us out here together, and Lizbeth would have questions.
I had questions.
We docked the boat together. He helped me pull it out of reach, and I tucked the paddles at the bottom. Full tourist season hadn’t started yet, so it would be safe to rest out here for now. Then we headed toward the front of the shop.
At his car, he turned to me.
“Where do we go from here, Ellie?” he asked.
Devin tucked his sunglasses onto his shirt, where they hung around the neckline, giving me full access to his eyes. Their natural warmth had returned, but the receding wariness remained. His pant legs were still rolled around his calves and his tackle box dangled next to his thigh.
“Where we left off,” I said.
“Friends?”
“Friends.”
A thousand days of pain lay behind us that I couldn’t forget, but he didn’t ask me to forget them. We wouldn’t be the same people right this moment that we were then, but we didn’t have to ignore each other. The little box rumbled in my mind, but I ignored it and all the truths within. Friends came and went. That was fine. They were supposed to. I’d accepted that years ago.
As friends, Devin could come and go. He could go back to the life he had to live for at least six years—maybe he’d do more—and I could continue on the path I’d carefully sculpted for myself.
This life was what I wanted.
He fiddled with car keys. “I have two and a half weeks left before I have to return to North Carolina. Can I spend some of those days with you?”
I nodded, unable to commit to an amount of time but just as unable to turn him away. My emotions were in turmoil inside me, torn between regret for what I hadn’t done but should have, relief that his decision hadn’t been about me, and fear. Fear of what this meant. Fear of the expression of hope that had returned to his face. Fear of more pain. More empty years. More of the truth I already knew to the depths of my bones.
Men leave.
Love dies.
You take care of yourself.
“I’ll text you?” he said.
“Sure.”
“Same number?”
I nodded.
He ducked into the car, and with one last wave, disappeared onto Main Street. I watched him go with immense relief, my heart a slow
plod inside me.
6
Devin
The brakes of my parents’ truck screeched as I slid to a stop outside of a wooden cabin at Adventura mountain camp.
Through the open truck window, the distant cry of kids rattled through the trees. I stepped out of the truck and slammed the door behind me. A familiar head of red hair rushed out of the cabin, then skidded to a stop.
Lizbeth’s mouth dropped open.
Seconds later, she’d crossed the space between us, and her pregnant little body slammed into mine with a tight hug.
“Devin!” she cried.
I wrapped my arms around her in an awkward embrace, her baby belly between us, gratified to see her again. When she pulled away, she nailed me on the shoulder with a fist.
“That’s for not coming to see us last time you came home! What’s the matter with you?”
“I’m sorry!”
Fury showed in those bright emerald eyes, sprinkled with hints of love. Despite being one of the sweetest people I had ever met, I definitely wouldn’t mess with her. Her hair was pulled into a bun at the base of her neck, but red tendrils flew off her forehead in the summer breeze.
“Well.” She frowned. “My sister is terrifying. I probably would have avoided her too. But still . . .”
Something else lingered in her gaze as she trailed off. Concern, maybe. I braced myself, ready to hear the inevitable sympathy, and wasn’t disappointed.
“Your Mom told me about . . . everything. I’m sorry, Dev. Sounds like it was hell over there.”
Before I could change the subject, another body stepped out of the cabin and waved, locks of hair flowing free around his face. JJ saved me as he strode over wearing a matching polo t-shirt to Lizbeth’s. Both said Adventura Summer Camp. I met him halfway, eager to avoid the conversation Lizbeth started.
“How are you?” JJ asked and clapped me on the back. I pulled him close and returned the pounding.
“Glad to be back in the mountains,” I said. “Nothing quite like the scent of pine, is there?”
He grinned. “You’re here to see Mark, right?”
“Yeah.”
JJ jerked his head back. “He’s waiting for you inside.”
“Sweet, thanks. Can’t wait to come up to your bakery in Jackson City. I heard it’s starting to be legendary with the tourists.”
He grinned. “We’re there on the weekends. Hired some people to run it during the week in the summer while we’re here. Come up, and we’ll give you a tour and free slice of cheesecake. Or a whole cake, whatever you want.”
Lizbeth held up a thumb. “It is the best cheesecake.”
“Soon,” I promised.
“Get in there.” JJ added to the cabin again. “He’s waiting for you.”
With a nod of thanks, I headed for the cabin while JJ looped an arm around Lizbeth’s waist, pulled her close, and then headed in the opposite direction. The gentle swish of pine needles in a summer breeze escorted me into the camp office. That scent was the final piece of returning home I needed.
JJ and Mark Bailey had been out exploring the world for most of my teen years. Our budding friendship started when Lizbeth and JJ began dating, became engaged, and then married. With JJ around Lizbeth all the time and me practically living with Ellie and her family, Mark inevitably tagged along every now and then. My business interests with Mark had brought us closer than I’d ever expected, and now I saw him as a brother.
I rapped on the cabin door, then stepped inside. Despite early summer heat rising from the carpet of pine needles outside, this cabin greeted me with a brush of cooler air. At the back of the room sat Mark, feet propped up on a desk cluttered with paperwork and pens.
Mark set his feet on the ground, pointed to his phone, and rolled his eyes. “I promise I won’t do anything stupid. Swear it. Okay, gotta go. I’ll tell him hi. Yeah, love you too. Bye.”
He hung up.
“Stella is visiting her grandma in Florida. She thinks I’m going to try to buy an old strip mall in Nebraska and renovate it into a gym while she’s gone.”
“Are you?”
He laughed as he stood. “Totally.”
Mark stepped around the desk, threw his arms wide, and enveloped me in a shameless, full-on hug. Then he gripped my shoulders and pulled me away.
“Dude, you look awesome.”
“Thanks.”
“Lifting?”
I shrugged. “When I could.”
“Must be hard in the sandbox.”
I chuckled as he sat back down. You have no idea, I thought. His chair groaned, but he ignored it. Despite the hurricane of paperwork on his desk—and was that a candle?—the rest of the cabin felt cozy and well-cared for. Coffee mugs hung from the wall over the sink. Pale drapes fluttered from an open window. Lizbeth definitely had a hand in all the changing decor when she first arrived, but Mark had a wife now. No doubt Stella kept up with it in Lizbeth’s place.
“Place looks better,” I said. “Bigger. Did you expand?”
“We did. Added a couple of rooms out back and on the side. Stella finally got a kitchen in here, too. It’s the only project we’ve ever agreed on.”
I laughed, “And it’s way less smelly.”
He grinned and ran a hand through his hair, then scrubbed his jaw. “We live upstairs most of the time. Stella won’t let me be a slob.”
“Stella likes it here?”
He nodded. “Loves it here.” His gaze roamed the rafters. “Imperfect or not, Adventura is home. I’m not running the summer camp anymore. Sione, one of my counselors, has swapped his love for the ocean to the mountains. He runs the camp, Stella runs the basic-admin and bookkeeping, and I do big-picture stuff with the investors. We’re working on getting a high-ropes course next summer. I can’t leave it, so we live here.”
“Seems great to me.”
Mark studied me a second, then leaned forward. If it came down to a weightlifting competition, I’d have no chance against a guy like him. He’d always been bulkier than JJ, who had the wiry power of a climber. Mark could wrestle a bear and take it down. And sometimes, when he let his hair go full shag and his beard grew out, he looked like a bear.
But the sudden intensity in his expression told me he’d switched to business mode.
“What’s up?” he asked. “I know we’re friends and business partners now, but I have a feeling you didn’t drive out to Adventura to take me on a date. If you did, you suck at it. You didn’t even bring lunch.”
“Came to check on my investment.”
He grinned with one side of his lips. “Your Mom is a whiz, you know that? She didn’t really trust me and Maverick at first, but once I told her she should take it to her pastor and pray about it,” He snapped his thumb and forefinger, “—I had her.”
A chuckle escaped me. “She’s nothing if not devoted.”
“Hey, we all got something. Honestly, Dev, things look good. She has steady contractors right now, the revenue coming in is strong. She’s set aside some cash flow for hiccups in the future. I’ve stepped back. She mostly does this herself now. You’ve seen the investment dashboard Lizbeth put together for us. It’s looking strong. Solid profile. Some of my other contacts have discussed requesting that she expand into some other mountain towns, but I haven’t broached it yet. The time isn’t right because she isn’t bored yet.”
I nodded, expecting to feel more relief at his report, but he wasn’t saying anything that I didn’t know already. Nothing that we couldn’t have covered on a call.
So why was I here?
“That’s not why you came,” Mark said. He leaned back against the chair but stayed upright instead of lounging all the way back. “But you already knew that. So what’s up?”
My gaze met his. “Honestly?”
“Always.”
The cagey feeling I’d been battling since I returned home welled back up. It grew every day, more and more suffocating. More and more diabolical. Darker. Heavier. Filled with flashes
of fire and light and explosions all around me.
This last deployment hadn’t been my first, but it had been my longest. A damn year in Afghanistan, cut off from the world. My parents emailed, sent packages, but it had been the emptiest, most terrifying year of my life.
Without Ellie, everything felt empty.
But that deployment had been hell unleashed, which only made it all feel worse. Disaster riddled it like holes in an old boat. The attacks didn’t stop. The sense of impending doom never left. The hits from the border never stopped smacking us on the back of the head, no matter how much aerial support we fed over there to prevent them from killing us first. On our “mission of peace.”
There was no peace.
Even on American soil, peace had eluded me. Sometimes I woke up at night in a cold sweat. Minutes would pass before reality became clear, but sleep never returned. The lack of deep rest made me feel like a zombie, and I stumbled through the day with thoughts of Ellie and naps that only made it worse.
And I didn’t know how to tell anyone.
Didn’t know how to form the words that would sound something like I’m back and I’m struggling and everything feels too close. Like it’s pressing on me. Text messages come too fast. The radio is too loud. People talk too much to strangers they don’t know. I don’t know what to say when people ask how I’m doing. My parents’ house feels too different to be mine. I don’t belong here anymore.
I don’t know how to be back.
“I need to beat the shit out of something,” I said in a croak.
Mark studied me with a shrewd gaze. Eternities seemed to pass before he nodded without a hint of question, pity, or compassion.
“You know I have it,” he said. “If there’s anything we specialize in around here, it’s destruction.”
With a jerk of his head, he motioned to the back door and stood. Relief filled me. He didn’t ask. Wouldn’t question. There were no answers I had to avoid, make up, or lie about. As I’d hoped, Mark got it.
And now I could vent the rage over my relentless deployment and all the lives lost somewhere safe. Maybe, just maybe, I’d get a full night’s sleep tonight.
