by Katie Cross
“Come on.” Mark grabbed my shoulders and shoved me down a back hallway ahead of him. “I have a woodpile and an ax with your name on it. Don’t come back until the whole thing is split and ready to keep my wife warm through the winter.”
7
Ellie
A pile of skewed undershirts commanded my attention two days later.
The smell of coffee followed me while I walked around Pineville Outfitters setting things straight. I attempted to contact our sister company in Jackson City to coordinate canoe rentals, and haphazardly managed inventory. Thanks to the Frolicking Moose, I smelled like espresso all day. An eight-hour shift at the shop had preceded my six-hour shift at the Outfitters. Tonight, I’d drop into bed exhausted.
But not because of work.
Devin haunted my thoughts since our quiet canoe ride. The truths he’d unveiled had slowly unwound in my head. I reviewed the last three years—particularly time with his parents, Millie and Mac—with a new understanding. As if I had to relive my life now that I could see it through a new lens.
Through the truth.
And what he said made sense. Mac’s pride. Millie’s natural piousness and humility meant she rarely spoke about money, not even the seemingly sudden success of her company. In some ways, it seemed to come from nowehere. She’d never explained where the funds to expand came from, and I hadn’t asked.
In other words, history really did stack up.
No texts had come through from Devin, and I didn’t have his number. The distance was a relief. I needed space away from . . . him. I’d just wrapped my mind around the idea that we could be friends again. Maybe acquaintances was a better word. What was the difference? In my world, not much, and that didn’t seem right either.
Devin would go back to his life in a few weeks, and I’d continue on mine. It had taken two days to wrap my head around the idea that I could spend time with him without regretting it later. Without yearning to feel his touch. Without falling even more in love with him. That was the old Ellie.
We had never been lovers, no matter how badly I had once wished it.
Now I could really set the past behind me and move forward without Devin. At some point, I’d be able to settle into that idea. Once I could comprehend that Devin was living in his own world as my friend, not occupying my world as . . . everything. Friendship with Devin had, at times, felt more like soulship.
Could it be different now?
Yes. It had to be.
I nodded once to reaffirm it.
Friends.
I got this.
“Ellie!”
A scratchy voice brought me out of my thoughts. I slipped around a corner display of new hiking boots and stopped a few feet away from Daniel. He stood behind the cash register, brow furrowed as he flipped through receipts. A fishing vest hung over his torso filled with brightly colored lures, a few old patches he’d sewn on, and a name tag that said “Old Hoss” instead of his name. Salt-and-pepper hair topped his head in dusty strands. Wrinkles lined his neck.
These days, he was as familiar to me as the mountains and twice as cranky. My loyalty ran deep.
“Yes?”
“Just got a call from a man named Kimball.”
My mind instantly slipped to Kimball, the carefree guy who had come to Pineville a week ago. Nice enough guy. Seemed to be everywhere and, according to Jax, probably had a little crush on me. I’d turned him down on a few date attempts. Just checking this place out for a long, overnight hike, he told me a few days ago. You know of any?
That was a very interesting conversation for a girl that longed to do overnight mountain guides but needed someone to pay for it.
I leaned against the front counter, riddled with stickers from gear companies and old bumper stickers that didn’t sell. Something fuzzy took residence in my stomach when Daniel gazed at me with inquisition beneath his eyebrows. That furry thing called hope wriggled like a caterpillar.
“And?” I drawled.
“He wants an overnight guide. Five nights.”
Schooling my whoop came with serious control. I lifted my brow and cleared my throat, the picture of serious professionalism. Daniel loved me because I didn’t react to stuff. In other words, women still frightened this perpetual, middle-aged bachelor that was surprisingly attractive for his salty personality.
Instead of celebrating, I focused on the rigid frown that had overtaken his face.
“You don’t seem happy about this, Daniel.”
“They requested you.”
“Shows they’re wise.”
“Or Kimball has the hots for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “First, it’s weird that you say hots in that tone. Please never do that again. Second, I can take care of myself. Kimball is harmless, and I’ve already turned him down twice for a date. Third—”
He jabbed a finger at me, cutting me off. “First, you don’t make the call here. I do. So don’t inform me how to run my company.”
Properly chastised, I backed down. Daniel might be—definitely was—rough around the edges. It’s why we got along so well. But I knew when to capitulate. When that tone came out, I didn’t have a chance to win.
“Second.” His eyebrows lifted halfway to his hairline as if to emphasize a point. “I don’t care how badly you want to be an adventure guide. I won’t compromise your safety. They aren’t local.”
“They?”
“He has a friend, named Steve, that he wants to come along.”
Fair point. Two strange men plus me in the mountains wasn’t desirable arithmetic. But I wasn’t about to lose this chance.
“I accept the risk along with my Glock.”
“Of course you do,” he muttered. “You’re twenty, and all twenty-somethings are stupid, with one exception, and it’s not you.”
I rolled my eyes. He said that stupid line at least once a week, and, in years of working together, he had never mentioned the identity of the not stupid twenty-something of his acquaintance.
”Daniel—“
He held up two hands, shutting me up again. “However,” he drawled, “this would be a great learning experience for you, and they specifically asked. I don’t want to tell them no. But,” he held up that finger again when I opened my mouth, “I’m not about to send you into the mountains for five nights with two men I don’t know that well. Sorry.” He slammed the cash register shut. “Not going to happen.”
My lips clamped shut again, and my nostrils flared. Yes, I resented the insinuation that I couldn’t take care of myself, but I also understood it at the same time. Did I think Kimball would be an issue? Definitely not one I couldn’t handle. But that didn’t speak for his friend Steve or the entire situation.
If life had taught me anything, it was that most men couldn’t be trusted. The rest had to be verified through years of proof, like Mav, JJ, and Daniel.
And Devin, at one point.
To that point, I also didn’t trust Kimball entirely either.
“Okay,” I said.
Daniel blinked twice. His head tilted to the side slightly. “What?”
“I said okay.”
“So I heard you correctly?” he asked. “There has now been a moment where we’ve actually agreed on something?”
I rolled my eyes again, just for emphasis. “Yes. I agreed with you.”
“That’s why I’m questioning it. You never agree with me.”
“Ha ha,” I muttered. “I’m not going to fight you on it.”
He leaned back a little. “Why?”
“You’re not wrong.”
“You want the guide so bad you’re buttering me up by agreeing with me, so I’ll eventually give in.”
“Yes and no.” I folded my arms across my chest and shrugged. “It’s probably a wise move to have someone else out there with me. Besides, how hard could it be to find another person to go with me? Someone who wants to give up days of their life to go into the mountains, without reception or amenities? Especially someon
e I could trust?”
He scowled, eyebrows low.
“Of course, that’s one more person for you to pay,” I continued doggedly, “which would kill all profit from the guide. But who needs to make money? It’s not like you run a company with skin-tight margins while you live on a prayer that more people book more guides or buy more t-shirts.”
His eyes tapered to slashes now, but I wasn’t about to stop.
“Especially considering my extensive history with self-defense,” I continued, “my intimate knowledge of every inch of these mountains and my skill with a knife. We already know I’m not afraid to take almost-lethal action to save myself. But . . . that’s your decision, Daniel.”
His eyes had become thin lines. He was onto me, but my argument would still work into his brain to nestle some doubt. Oh, I knew the source of his bleeding heart: money. Profit. Dollar bills. He expected me to fight back, but he just didn’t know my game yet.
“Nice try,” he muttered. “But I’m ahead of you. Already got someone!” He grinned. “Should be a good guide. Kimball said they want to see beautiful things. Pitch their own tent, eat fish from a stream, that kind of idea.”
A careful bud of hope revived in my chest. Was he giving this guide to me then? Who had he asked?
“Sounds great.” I straightened up, arms falling to my side. “I’ll take them up Buccaneer road and into the canyon to Nightingale Pass. It has all they requested, and the hikes aren’t too challenging. Easy river valley in most spots. So many moose to see, if they want wildlife.”
He grunted, which meant he approved. At least he hadn’t told me where I’d have to take them. That morsel of trust was something, and I’d worked hard for it. The only thing that puzzled me was who he had found.
There was really only one option.
“Are you coming with us?” I asked.
He snorted. “No.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
He grinned. “Here’s the part you will fight me on.”
The growing excitement slowly started to deflate again. Although I didn’t know what the dark premonition inside of me meant, it couldn’t be good.
“Who?” I asked.
He paused for annoying, dramatic effect, then said, “The only twenty-something I know that isn’t an idiot: Devin Blaine.”
Dev’s name rippled through me like a shockwave. Daniel watched without apology while I grappled with his revelation. The Blaine family and Daniel went back farther than me and Daniel. Daniel and Mac fished together all the time. When Devin enlisted in the Marines, Daniel had given him $500 and had tears in his eyes when he thanked him.
Daniel knew I’d balk at Devin coming, just as I knew he wouldn’t back down. He’d given me what I wanted: a professional, overnight guide. I’d seen that look in Daniel before. Those wise eyes asked me to rebuff him because, if I did, I’d have to forfeit the guide.
“What?” was all I managed.
“He’s here, available, and willing. Most importantly, he has survival skills beyond even yours and a vested interest in keeping you safe. Besides, have you seen him yet? The man could be a tank himself.” He grinned. “Seemed pretty great to me.”
“He’s almost as much a stranger to me as Kimball!”
Daniel snorted. “You’ll never convince me of that.”
For a moment, I regretted my comment. Devin wasn’t a stranger. Was he? I didn’t know yet, but it felt true. The Devin that revealed his secrets was not the same boy I knew for years. He’d turned into a man without me. He’d experienced so many things we could never have together.
But underneath it all, he was still Devin.
Regardless, this wasn’t a complication that I could afford. No, I’d just barely wrapped my mind around being an acquaintance-friend to Devin. I’d let him have a sliver of space back into my life so that I could easily nudge him back out. Just telling him that we could spend time together had been throat-closing terrifying.
Five nights in the mountains with him?
No. Way.
Daniel turned and started to walk away. I ran along the counter and followed before he hid in the back office behind a locked door. Knowing him, he’d stay there until midnight just to avoid me.
We could both be persistent.
“You’ve already talked to him?” I asked.
“Yep.”
Fury bubbled under my skin, but I schooled it back as I jogged to keep up with his long gait. “And he said yes?”
“Yep.”
“When does the guide start?”
Daniel smiled over at me as he reached for the doorknob to his office. “You leave the day after tomorrow at 5:00 am. Get ready, girl. This is your chance to prove to me that you’re ready to do it, twenty years old notwithstanding.”
Dawn cracked early a day and a half later. At 4:45 am, I stood in the parking lot of Pineville Outfitters under a star-studded sky, my hands shoved into a zippered fleece jacket. Ebony mountains rippled in the sky like dark ribbons, the trees a looming presence even from far away. The temperature was in the low 60’s, but it felt cold.
Or maybe that was dread.
No matter what came of these five days in the mountains with Devin there—the way it always used to be—nothing will have changed in our circumstances. We would part afterward as acquaintance-friends and nothing more. Devin and I wouldn’t ease back into what we used to be because that ship had sailed.
Nor would the box in my head open up with a thunderous roar.
No.
We’d hike. He’d provide further security and insight. We’d walk away from each other feeling exactly the same as this very moment. Daniel would book more guides for me. I would live my best life.
That would be absolutely true.
It would be.
Eventually, I would convince myself of that.
A pair of headlights approached and drew me from my too-desperate thoughts, then stopped in a parking spot. Seconds later, a head of not-so-natural blonde hair appeared, then warm arms wrapped me in a hug. I held Devin’s mother, Millie, close to me for a full five seconds. The smell of chamomile and potpourri gave me an undeniable comfort.
“I’d ask you where you’ve been the past few days,” she murmured quietly, “but I already know the answer, so I’m satisfied with just letting you know that you have been missed by both Mac and me and the horses.”
When she pulled away, I gave her a sheepish smile. Normally, I stopped by the Blaine house three or four times a week. I rode their horses, cleaned the barn, dealt with the hay, and did odd jobs outside that Mac's back wouldn't allow him to do. With Devin home, they didn’t need me to do that work.
Or that’s what I told myself.
“Thanks,” I said.
Behind her came the rummaging sounds of someone in the bed of a truck. I caught a glimpse of Devin’s muscled arm just before he hopped in the truck bed and reached for something. Millie squeezed my hands, then let them go.
“Later,” she said earnestly. “We need to talk.”
I nodded. She had likely come to drop him off just to see me, and I appreciated the quick, maternal connection that she provided. Bethany had become my sister-mama, but there was something about Millie that felt more naturally maternal. My brightest memory of Millie was the moments after I’d attacked, toppled, and almost killed Jim at the Frolicking Moose. Both Devin and I had been terrified and shaking. The moment Millie had seen me, she clucked, reprimanded, and hugged me as fiercely as she did Devin, as if I was her own.
That’s when I knew that I belonged to her, too.
The thud of a falling bag brought me out of my memories. Devin shut the tailgate, a stuffed backpacking bag at his feet. For being almost 5:00 am, he didn’t seem like he’d just gotten up. Did he struggle with sleeping after his deployment?
His eyes were clear as glass as they met mine.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
“Hey.”
Millie blew us both a kiss, admonished u
s to be safe, promised to pray for us with her Bible study group, and the truck drove away minutes later. That left Devin and I staring at each other in the parking lot. My tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth. Was I supposed to thank him for coming? Probably. I couldn’t deny there was a sense of relief and safety that came with him being there.
But on the other hand . . .
“Thanks,” I said. “I’m not sure you wanted to spend almost six days away from your parents when you were just deployed.”
He grinned and ripped open a zipper in his bag to rummage inside. “No worries, Ellie. I can’t tell you how much I’ve wanted to get back into the mountains. Daniel approached me the day after our canoe ride. Couldn’t say yes fast enough.” He stood, one eyebrow raised. “Are you okay with it?”
My nostrils flared, and I took too long to consider my answer.
“Yes,” I finally said, “with the understanding that we’re . . . I mean . . . there’s no expectation for more.”
His expression became a wordless question. I swallowed hard. Idiot, I thought to myself. What was I babbling about? Why would there be an expectation for more? All Devin had ever expected of me was friendship.
This weekend was off to a great start.
“I just mean that . . . we . . . let’s leave everything behind us. The history is back there and doesn’t matter for now. So . . . we can do this guide and then part as acquaintances, the way we are now.”
Acquaintances made my brain trip, and I almost couldn’t get the word out. He paused for the briefest breath. In that span, his gaze darkened a little. The shadow passed when he nodded.
“Of course.”
His quick response should have been a relief, but it stung instead. I forced a smile.
“Great. Once they get here, we’ll drive up to the trailhead in separate cars. You can ride with me.”
“You got it.”
I tried to find the sarcasm in his tone, but there was none. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it when another pair of headlights appeared in the parking lot. I gratefully turned my attention to the approaching black SUV with bright, shiny rims. Kimball pulled to a stop next to us. Sleep lingered in his eyes as he rolled the window down and grinned widely.
