“Are we talking about an old man who knows a thing or two?” Ash put both hands on his chest for illustration. “Or a different friend who helps you think clearly?” He sighed. “Or it could be the person you’ve been waiting for your whole life and she showed up at exactly the right time or the worst time ever. Hard to say.”
Their eyes met. Ash didn’t have any answers for him, but there was some comfort in knowing the guy understood how confused Sam was.
“Let’s head up Yanu. Easy climb. The fresh air will help your brain function. Don’t expect me to tell you what to do about a woman. I got nothing.” Ash winced as he stood. “All I know is nothing is going to be solved by talking about it. You’re going to have to do something.”
A weight settled on Sam’s shoulders.
“Luckily, you have a few days to decide what that is.” Ash clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Today, let’s climb.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I SHOULD LOOK at this as a sign of progress,” Avery muttered as she smacked the stack of quilts and sheets her mother insisted she had to have on her bed. Lying under them while trying to toss and turn was a real workout. That and staring up at the ceiling all night long had taken a toll on her optimism. “From sleeping sixteen hours a day to apparently...” She turned her head to study the display of the antique digital alarm clock her mother had dug out of whatever closet it had been buried in. “None. Zero hours of sleep. That can’t be good.”
Listening to Janet and Regina babble excitedly about their trip to Asheville had kept her up later than she’d meant to be, but after she’d finally managed to escape the planning session for Smoky Joe’s, complete with whiteboard and large, long to-do lists, Avery had settled into her nest, certain she’d rest well after a long, busy week.
And then she’d watched the shadows on the ceiling grow longer. Her mother had finally quieted, and now all Avery could hear was her own breathing.
This was when the memories started and the tears arrived. She hated nights like this. One innocent thought about the missing University of Chicago pennant she’d hung over her bed as soon as she’d decided law school was her destiny led to memories of the campus and the first time she’d seen Robert Montague striding down the sidewalk, his eyes hidden because he was checking his phone.
She’d never been one of his students, mainly because his specialty was intellectual property and she’d hated every taste of that she’d gotten in her lower-level classes, but floppy brown hair and a total disinterest in college girls had apparently been her type back then. Pursuing Robert had been such a fun game, and catching him had been so satisfying that when he suggested they get married, she’d been ready for their next step immediately. Both of them had dreamed of a family.
But first there was tenure and their future income to secure. Avery had done her best to fill her days with enough volunteer work that it still seemed that leaving school was a good decision. They’d had such a comfortable city life with great restaurants and smart friends. Settling in had been simple.
And then cancer struck, and whatever she and Robert had planned was out the window because survival took precedence. First he’d continued to work until fatigue and sickness had taken their toll. The floppy brown hair had thinned until it was gone. So had the friends and acquaintances, leaving Avery alone to carry the weight of all their decisions.
Robert had never hesitated to give her his opinion, on her hair, her clothes, her goals or what to do next. It would be nice to have advice right now. Working at the library was no solution, and she needed something to challenge her brain.
Otherwise, she’d be spending more nights like this one. Alone. Thinking.
As long as she lived, she’d never forget struggling to breathe while a man in a dark suit walked her through all the options for a funeral service. Robert had joked that he wanted to send out invitations with RSVPs so he’d have an estimate of the attendance, but Avery had been too afraid to laugh.
The memory of Robert’s pale face flashed through her mind and the old familiar panic hit. Avery lurched up to lean against the headboard.
“Calm down, Avery. There’s no need to panic.” Her voice was steady, as it had been every time she’d spoken to her husband as he died slowly in front of her. “He’s already gone. Nothing to be done.” She closed her eyes and focused on her breathing until her pounding heartbeat slowed.
The quiet tink of something hitting her window caught her attention, but it had to be a bug or something. Desperate for distraction, Avery picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts until her thumb hovered over Sam’s number. This had been prime sneaking-out time when they were in high school. Both of their mothers had slept so soundly, only the end of the world would have rolled them out of bed. That meant plenty of time to climb trails they shouldn’t be on or meet people they shouldn’t waste time with.
But Sam had worked a long day. There was no sense waking him. Morning would be soon enough to talk.
Why did she have this urge to hear his voice tonight? He wouldn’t have any answers for her.
But she’d feel safer because he was near. If she wasn’t careful, letting Sam rescue her would become a habit. She would see him in the morning, so she could talk him into doing something physical. She was having trouble sleeping because she’d been following her mother around instead of pushing her body. If he was busy, she’d... She wasn’t sure what she’d do to occupy her time, but her mother was only half a step away from sending her on a reconnaissance mission to the next “new Southern” restaurant she’d read about in her stack of magazines, wherever that might be. Apparently, Smoky Joe’s was going to move away from home-cooked desserts and hot, hot coffee to fine, “new Southern” dining.
As far as Avery could tell, that meant cornmeal was used in everything.
She could see if Brett Hendrix had a favorite trail to show her. “Any port in a storm, Avery?”
Her phone vibrated. Avery picked it up to read a text from Sam. Feed Courage. Climb out the window.
Relief made her dizzy for a second. Avery thrust her quilts away and raced over to the window. She raised it carefully.
“Pebbles on the window. That was our sign,” Sam called. “Have you forgotten?”
“I thought I was imagining things. Besides that...technology...hello?” Avery waved her phone. “And the tree’s gone. Can I use the stairs?”
The night was clear and the moonlight was bright enough that she could see Sam’s grin. “Whatever. Get down here.” He looked so much like the old Sam, his shoulders hunched against the cool air.
“Give me five,” Avery said as she stepped back, her heart thumping hard again. Whatever he had in mind, it had to be better than letting the memories swamp her. She yanked her jeans off the floor and slipped into them before grabbing her sweatshirt off the dresser. “This is when never learning to put away your clothes pays, Mama.” Avery was grinning big enough to make her ears hurt as she quietly opened the bedroom door. Her mother’s room was dark, and Avery had a flash of wonder. She was a grown woman. There was no need to sneak out.
But it was definitely more fun.
Avery tiptoed down the stairs and grabbed the hiking boots she’d left by the door. They hadn’t seen much hiking lately, but the town square had been covered thoroughly.
She had the door unlocked and was turning the knob when her mother said from the top of the stairs, “Think you’ll be home for breakfast?”
Avery straightened and felt the blush cover her cheeks. Which was silly. “I don’t know, Mama. There’s no need to scramble an egg for me. I’ll get my own this time.”
“Uh-huh. I don’t know whether to hug that boy for getting you out of the house, to explain to him that the middle of the night is not suitable or to wish you could find another love interest that makes you beam that way.” When Avery started to protest the “love
interest” part, her mother crossed her arms over her familiar Tennessee Titans sweatshirt. Whatever Avery said would prolong the conversation, could change it into an argument, so she opened the door. “You and Sam be careful.”
“Always, Mama.” Avery was relieved when she stepped out on the porch. Sam was propped against the railing. “Sorry it took so long. I was busted on the way out.”
He groaned softly. “Matchmaking, phase two, is about to commence, right?”
“Who cares?” Avery said as she laced her boots. “We know it’s crazy. They’ll figure that out soon enough.”
Sam shoved his hands in his pockets but didn’t answer. Did he not agree? It was crazy. Even if the two of them had enough in common to make anything work, he was leaving and she was...running away from memories.
“How did you know I was awake?” Avery moved to follow him to the truck he’d parked at the end of the drive that led to his mother’s house.
“I didn’t. I’m glad you were.” Sam, in a weird, weird move, stopped to open the truck door for her to slide inside. He’d never done that, not once, when they were growing up and partners in whatever scheme they could come up with to run wild.
She stared hard at him before getting in the truck. He didn’t say anything as he quietly closed the door. Instead of running around the hood, a goofy grin on his face, Sam walked steadily, one hand tracing the metal. He didn’t say much as he started up the truck and put it in Drive.
“Where are we headed?” Avery asked with a happy sigh. “I can make it up to the top of the falls and back if you want to give it a shot. Or The Eagle Nest? That’s not far. We could get there by sunrise. Lucky you can get us into the park.” The clouds had a bright pink tinge. Sunrise wasn’t too far off.
“I was thinking Otter Lake. You want to visit the otters? They’re still moving around at this time.” Sam rolled the window down, a cool breeze drifting in as he meandered toward the highway leading up to the park.
What was with his mood? He never drove this way, preferring, as she did, to make it a challenge. Tonight, everything seemed different, more dreamlike, and now they might as well be the only people in the world.
“I’ll follow you.” Avery leaned back, content with that decision. She trusted Sam. She wasn’t staring up at her ceiling, mourning what was lost and wondering if she’d done everything she could or wishing she could change something that she had done. She was living her life. That was worth something.
Sam didn’t answer, but he did accelerate on the roads leading to the ranger station. The Otter Lake rangers maintained the lands around Otter Lake, one of the Smokies’ most popular lakes. Fishermen loved it because it had plenty of secluded coves. The otters loved it for the same reason.
They passed the Otter Lake Campground, a large area with spots for RVs and primitive camping along with a combination gas station, bait shop and restaurant. The windows were already lit. Did it ever close?
Avery turned to ask Sam about the restaurant, but it seemed wrong to disturb the silence in the cab of the truck. The question could wait. She reached over to touch Sam’s leg. Instead of answering, he covered her hand with his. Which was so strange in this friendship, but Avery couldn’t argue with how right it felt. If she had a chance, she might stop sleeping altogether. She and Sam could explore the wonders of the Great Smoky Mountains and she’d never have to think again.
* * *
AFTER A LONG night of considering the question of Avery and who she was to him now, Sam had been forced to do something. Ash’s words had kept running through his brain. Thinking wasn’t going to change anything. Talking wouldn’t do much, either. If he wanted to figure out what to do about Avery, which apparently had something to do with how he felt about the Colorado job, he had to do something.
And Avery hadn’t called. She hadn’t texted. That meant it was up to him to continue this conversation, the one about making a choice about how they’d live. He was having a difficult time with the courageous part of the pact. A brave man would have asked her on her front porch if she spent too much time obsessing over him, too.
Not obsessing. That was the wrong word choice.
Wasn’t it?
“Are you afraid you’ll get in trouble? Should we be here?” Avery asked as he stopped in front of the gate blocking entrance to Otter Lake’s most successful otter cove. The population here was hard to track, but when the rangers wanted to show off the park’s repopulation program, they brought visitors here. This morning, he wanted to show off.
“With a civilian, too?” Avery pointed at the No Trespassing sign they were about to climb over.
Sam hopped over the gate and reached back to offer Avery a hand. He was less than surprised when she brushed the offer away and clambered over on her own. Disappointed, maybe, but not surprised.
“Nah, I don’t think anyone would be shocked to find me here.” Sam switched on the flashlight he’d brought only because of Avery. He knew the path so well that light, especially on a clear night like this, wasn’t necessary. The first time she tripped over an exposed tree root, Sam stopped. “Want the flashlight?” He wasn’t going to offer her his hand again. At some point, she’d ask him what was going on with that, and he didn’t have an answer.
“Sure.” Avery took it from him, turned it off and shoved it in her pocket. “It’s hurting more than helping, actually. Gee would be appalled.”
She was right. Of course she was. His grandfather had insisted they had everything they needed on them to negotiate these mountains whether it was day or night. Over the years of fighting fires and search and rescue, Sam had decided his grandfather had been almost right. If you included the pocketknife he’d used to cut himself out of numerous bad spots and a good supply of water, then he was equipped with everything he needed.
“Remember the time Gee brought us up to Yanu to show us the difference between cloudy nights and clear?” Avery said, her breathing labored but steady. “That scared me. A lot. I’m not sure I’m meant to be in the dark woods at night.”
Surprised, Sam stopped. “But...here we are.”
Avery slammed into his back with a grunt. “Alone. I meant alone. If I’d known you were the one who was going to cause me to break my nose, though, I might have rethought this.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, and Sam wished he could do the same to his shoulder blade, the one that would have a nose-shaped bruise in the morning.
“Sorry.” Sam turned and resumed his careful steps. After a minute, he could hear her follow, the occasional grumble under her breath enough to make him smile. He’d been in such a weird mood while he stared up at the bland ceiling of his boring apartment. All he could imagine was talking things out with Avery, like they had more than once as kids. When her father had died, they’d sneaked out after dark to sit on the edge of the tree house platform to talk about death and what happens next.
Neither one of them had a good grasp, but he’d never forget Avery staring up at the stars like there might be an answer there.
“Clear tonight. We should be able to see the stars,” he murmured and reached behind him to help her over a log. “Otters. Stars. It’s like a nature double feature.”
Avery laughed breathlessly. “Are we getting close? Because...” She bent to brace her hands on her knees to catch her breath. “If you give me a hard time about this, I totally deserve it, but I will plot my revenge nevertheless.”
“You’re doing great. We’re almost there.” He took her hand to guide her along the path that was almost impossible to see in the shadows of the woods lining Otter Lake. From there, he could make out occasional splashes and one chittering mother who was lecturing her children not to go out into the dark. Because mothers everywhere were the same.
Out of nowhere, Sam could imagine Avery leading her little girl out into the starry night so they could see what there was to see. She’d be
the kind of mother who would raise confident kids.
Unsettled, Sam moved too quickly and pulled Avery with him. She stumbled on the rocks and bounced up against his shoulders. “I hope you are a better guide when the lights are turned back on because...” She brushed her shoulder off and then bumped him lightly. “Kidding. I kid. This is awesome. Thank you for coming to get me.”
He wanted to promise he’d always come to her rescue.
But he’d failed to do that when she needed a friend the most. He’d let her disappear completely from his life.
Sam also wanted to make it clear that she was saving him, too, but he didn’t know how to put his emotions into words. Instead, he pointed at the rock he’d decided was the best place to think. “Have a seat.”
Avery paused for a minute to stare up at him. “Are you okay? You’ve been in a weird mood ever since I met you on the porch.”
Sam eased past her to sit down on the rock. “I needed not to be alone and the first person I thought of was you. That’s the reason for my weird mood.”
He couldn’t see her eyes but her lips were twitching as she plopped down beside him. “You flatterer. I give good advice. I might not have finished law school, but no one can doubt my ability to argue either side of any question.”
If all he’d needed was advice, he’d had his shot with Ash, but nothing of the weird dissatisfaction he’d felt ever since he’d come home had come together into any good question. Today, or rather yesterday, he and Ash had climbed Obed in silence. Sam had been thinking again, but Ash was impossible to read. If still waters ran deep, Ash was a bottomless well.
“Think you’ll go back?” Sam asked as he pointed at a lively group of otters. In the gloaming of presunrise, they were hard to make out from their vantage point, but it was nice to watch a healthy group diving. “Sun’ll be up soon.”
“To law school? Or Chicago?” Avery asked as she knelt closer to the edge of the rock outcropping to see better. “No.”
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