by Rebecca Rode
“Hey, I brought a snack. It’s in my backpack.” Trev’s voice is husky.
I reach up to the pack’s buckle across his chest and squeeze the clasp. My hands tremble, and I can barely breathe.
Immediately, his hands are over mine, and his eyes close. His chest rises with a deep breath, and he blows it out slowly while he shakes his head. Then he opens his eyes and shakes his head again.
He means no. We’re not going to find out if the next step would be good for us. I try to tell myself it’s not a rejection, but it feels like it. My legs tense to jump up from the log, but before I do, he pulls my hands to his lips and kisses them. “The snack—it’s pepperoni and apples.” He drops my hands and drags his backpack to his lap.
“Oh, yeah.” My voice sounds shaky, but he pretends not to notice. “That was your favorite.”
“Still is.” He digs through his pack and hands me one of each. “I brought some to share.”
We eat in silence, both pretending to be inordinately fascinated by the trees, or the grass, or the clouds.
When I toss my core into the forest, I point my finger back and forth between us. “Is this going to be weird now?”
He rest his forearms on his knees and again shakes his head no. “I moved here...because I need to work things out, which...I haven’t done yet.”
Great. He’d probably had his heart broken, and I’m coming on to him. I throw my arm around the back of his shoulders and lean over for a very platonic hug. “Friends—I can do that.”
To be honest, I acknowledge that a little spark deep in my stomach still wants more. I try to snuff it out, but it won’t die. Though I’d never admitted it, I was hoping for a real connection, for someone to give me support, for his arms to hold my pieces together. It’s probably a selfish hope.
“Shall we jump off a cliff?” he asks, getting up from the log.
Sounds perfect. “Only if my friend dares me to.” When I stand, I immediately recheck my harness.
“I dare you.” His voice playfully taunts me as his eyebrows rise.
“Done.” I position myself in the rope and lean back, keeping my heels against the rock, and walk myself down to the first ledge. Easy drop, only about fifty feet. I concentrate on my rope sliding in my palm and the tension of the harness on the back of my legs. Intense focus is good—it’s squeezing the hurt out. I can only think of the rocks and the rope.
The next drop is a hundred fifty feet, and wet since we’ll be rappelling down the falls. With El Niño sitting off the Baja California coast, we’ve had thunderstorms cracking off most evenings lately. There was a flash flood warning yesterday, and the water is a powerful surge. There’s definitely enough challenge going on here to make worthy of its “expert” billing. Right now, I appreciate a monster challenge.
There’s a bulge in the rocks below me where a ledge protrudes beyond the face of the rocks under it. I can’t see how much as I look down. The mist and the way the water splashes hides it from me.
I’ll need to take small steps to the edge, then jump and let the rope slide through until I clear it. I’ve done this rappel before. I’ll need enough jump to miss the bulge, but not so much that I also miss my footing below that. It’s not a big jump, but it’s a blind one.
I’m overthinking this. I need to go. My heart races, but I steel my nerves and bend my knees. With a deep breath, I push off.
Cold water blasts my eyes, and I can’t spot my landing. It’s a complete release of control. Fear washes through me until my feet touch rock again. I quickly lean back to keep my body perpendicular to the face.
The cool water soothes my burning muscles. A few more feet, and I’m at the pool at the bottom. Keeping the rope in my hands, I cross the pond to the other bank and sit in a patch of sun to watch Trev’s descent.
He’s so horizontal—he looks like he’s lying on a chaise lounge or floating down on a magic carpet. His abs, shoulders, and arms must be rock solid to hold that position in the climb.
Backing out to the bulge, mid-step, Trev slips. His feet get below him, and it looks like his hands slip too. Training kicks in, and his arms fly out to the side, waiting for the tension on the auto-stop to catch him. Which it does, but the sudden stop flings him into the rocks.
Water splashes against Trev as he dangles like a dead spider from a web. Fear and panic knot in my chest.
I’m on my feet before I think about it. Resistance from the water in the pond slows me. I press forward with enough force to run. He might be fine, but I’m going to assume he needs help.
“Trev, can you hear me?” My heart beats loudly in my ears. Everything else stands still as I strain to hear a response. Nothing. “I’m coming up.”
At the bottom of the rope, I open my backpack, grab a small length of cord and begin rigging a foot sling. Pictures flash through my mind, reminding me how to make the Prusik loop and knots. I’m instantly, awakefully aware of what I need to do. My hands fly through the motions.
First, double fisherman knots. Pull. My hands shake with my increasing adrenaline, but I work quickly. Then I offset that knot with the Prusik that goes around the climbing rope. I glance above me. He’ll be fine—just keep doing what you know. I make it with four loops—I won’t need that much tension for ascending, but I might need the extra friction when I come back down with Trev.
When I have the loop around the rope, I begin to climb back up——it’s slow going. I stand in the sling on one foot to release tension on the climbing rope and move my harness up the line to where the foot sling is attached, which allows me to sit in my harness and move the foot sling as high as I can reach. I keep my fragile control by telling myself the process, repeating it again and again.
The waterfall blinds me as I reach Trev, and I’m unable to see if he’s conscious or not. I swing my leg over him and straddle above his lap. My fingers shake as I try to manipulate the metal ring. I talk myself through it. Go slow. Do it right. Finally, the carabiner snaps back together, and I’m relieved to know he’s secured to me. My focus zooms out to check his harness for damage. It looks fine.
Now, I check his face. He’s not out cold, but he’s groggy and mumbling something about money. Thankfully there isn’t a gushing head wound—just a little blood on his temple and road rash on his cheek. I work quickly to detach his lock, and we begin our descent together. He thrashes a bit, but I keep my legs locked around his hips.
I lean close to his ear. “It’s okay, Trev. I’ve got you.” Worry, icy and tight, constricts around my heart.
“Zara?”
“Yeah. We’re going down, Trev.”
“I love you.”
Oh, how I wish I could be confident he knows what he’s saying. He’s been mumbling the whole time. If I wasn’t sure I’d regret it, I’d kiss him now—maybe he wouldn’t remember. But I won’t put myself through that because even if it isn’t real to him, my heart would know it was for me.
“Did you bring the dog in, Mom?” His head lolls to the side, and he whispers over and over, “I’m sorry.”
Every word that slips from his mouth reassures me that he’s going to be okay even though right now, he’s talking nonsense.
I keep working slowly down the rope. His eyes roll open, and he blinks then squeezes them shut again as we descend. We finally touch the gravel at the bottom of the falls.
We stand there together, Trev leaning heavily on me.
“My head hurts.”
I’d been more tense than I thought in the moment, but every muscle loosens. An almost jittery feeling hovers around me. “It should hurt. The mountain played ping pong with it.”
His hand reaches up, but I block him. “I’ll let you touch it after I clean it and look at it. Can you walk?” He nods before I release us from the rope.
Trev sways a bit. I step in front of him and hug him around the waist so he can use my balance. Yes, I imagined us standing like this at some point today, but that dream didn’t have him bleeding on my shoulder.
His eyes peep open. “Your hair smells nice.”
“Thanks. Take a step. And another.” When we get to the other side, we sit in the sun, and I clean the blood from the cuts on his face.
“You already have a big goose egg.” This time I guide his hand up to his forehead. “I never knew why they called it that, but yours is huge.” He touches it and winces.
After a little more first aid, we sit until he’s fully aware. His pupils are the same size and seem to dilate normally, and he has balance now. I’m pretty sure it’s a good thing that the swelling went out from his head instead of inside his skull, but I still want to get him to a doctor to be checked out. We’re going to have to hike out, and walk along the water’s edge toward the road.
“You’re not going to live this down, you know.”
“Live what down? Nothing happened.” He takes off his shirt and swishes it in the cold water.
I know I should be concerned only about his injury, but his chest and abs are all I dreamed they were, hijacking my attention. For the love—I’ve got to stop torturing myself.
“That’s your story?” I ask. “How are you going to explain the black eye you’ll have tomorrow?
“I never would have made a rookie mistake like that. I’m rusty.” He holds the cold shirt to his head.
“Hey, the danger inherent in this sport makes it fun. It’s kinda why we do it. No matter the training or experience, accidents happen. I’m glad this one turned out all right.” I’m still checking Trev for slurring his words, being wobbly, or squinting. Nothing so far. “You feel okay, right?”
“Monster headache, but I’m fine.” He slowly and softly pats around his face. “I don’t think I can go to work like this.”
“I’ll tell them I accidently hit you. With an urn.” He shoots me a disbelieving glance. I hurriedly add, “Anyone in town who knows me will believe it.”
“An urn?”
We start walking down the trail. “I was unpacking some new supplies, and you walked in, startling me. I thought you were a thief…”
“At a funeral home?”
“Shh. You were a thief, and I clunked you with an urn. Sorry about that, by the way.”
He chuckles. Oh, that’s good to hear.
“Would you rather I tell the story about how the client saved the high adventure guide?”
“Yeah. It’ll be okay. Easier to remember, and you deserve the hero merit badge.”
The pool under the waterfall is a popular tourist stop, and the trail is well maintained and mostly level, sloping gradually downhill. We walk the rest of the way to the parking lot, resting often. The conversation is easier this time. I’m glad to have my friend back.
Trev insists that before I take him to Insta-care, we drop the truck off at Black Diamond. Rob meets us outside. “You’re an hour late. I was going to give you thirty more minutes, then call nine-one-one to track your GPS.”
“What are you doing here? Didn’t you have some other job to do?” Trev asks Rob, ignoring the worried look on his face.
“It was a ruse.” Rob laughs and Zara smiles. “Zara played you, arranging it all with Bill.” Rob really looks at Trev this time and sucks in a gasp. “What happened to your face? He’s ugly now, Zara. I can take over for him.”
I take a breath, ready to tell the truth, but Trev blurts out, “She hit me.”
“With what? You have cuts all over the side of your cheek and forehead.”
At the same time Trev says, “A rock,” I answer, “A branch.” We look at each other and burst out laughing.
6
Trev Cooley
AFTER SEVERAL HOURS IN THE ER, I’m pronounced fine and head home. Even though I’m in bed, I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about Zara. Today was amazing. That’s the kind of thing we used to do together. Well, expect for the part when I almost killed myself. For as opposite as we are, that’s the big thing we have in common—we both love the outdoors.
The tin sound of ringing comes through my speaker phone. I hear a dazed mumble of something similar to “Hello” and say, “Nolan—I blew it.”
There’s a pause. “Did you know it’s too early to be morning yet?”
I check the clock—it’s well after midnight.
“Have you found something?” His voice is sleepy and his words are a little slurred.
“I haven’t found anything—whatever is happening to the money is well hidden.”
“Why’d you call?”
“I’m falling for her.”
“What? You woke me up to talk about—” I hear a muffled crash across the connection. Then it sounds like he’s picking his phone back up but hits it against something hard. “Wait. You’re talking about a girl? You didn’t blow your cover, did you?”
“Maybe it was wrong to send me here undercover. I think about her—all the time. She’s not just beautiful…I mean she is beautiful, but she’s adventurous. She loves life. She’s fun, and I’m more carefree when I’m with her.”
“I’ve been meaning to ask you where that stick came from.” Nolan laughs at his own joke.
“Watch it.”
“Okay. I don’t follow. You like this girl, and that’s a bad thing because…?”
“She…” I push my fingers through my hair. “She doesn’t know about me. I should just tell her.”
Nolan nearly shouts. “No. Bad call. Get your head back in the game.” His voice calms. “If she means that much to you, you can tell her later.”
“I can’t lie to her for weeks and expect her to be okay with it.”
“You’re not lying—just withholding pertinent facts—about who you are—and how long you’re staying.”
“Oh, well, if that’s all—it’s completely different.”
“You know you can’t come clean yet. You’ll have to hope she understands when you do tell her.” Nolan is silent for a long moment then says, “I’ve been dating someone myself. She actually works at Black Diamond. You might know her.”
His voice doesn’t sound confident—a little like he’s trying to think of a way to soften the blow.
My hand slides over my forehead. “It’s Kat, isn’t it?” I wish we’d never hired her. You should never work with family. She helped out a few times when we got in a pinch as the business was just starting up. She switched her major, and when she graduated, we offered her a job. Every day since then, I’ve wanted to fire her, but she’s “family,” so she still works there. I do my best to steer clear. “Tell me you aren’t dating my stepsister.”
“What? How did you…? We’ve been keeping it quiet, but I think it’s getting serious.”
I have no idea what to say to that. Kat is the most spoiled, entitled person I know. How could anyone think she’s loveable? I barely think she’s tolerable. But Nolan has never dated anyone longer than a month before, and I finally say, “Congrats. I hope it works out.”
“Me too. But we have to get this mess figured out first.
“You haven’t said anything about this to Kat, right?”
“No. I haven’t mentioned it. Hey, is anyone at Black Diamond right now?”
“No.”
“Then go back and search the office.”
“Yeah, I can do that. Goodnight, Nolan. I’ll let you know if I find something.”
In a few minutes, I park behind the building instead of in the parking lot. I don’t know how I’ll explain this if the police show up. I thought I left my lunch box. I forgot my schedule. I was sleepwalking. Hopefully, if they do come, it’ll be Aiden.
I slip my key card through the lock and step inside. I turn on the lights—that’s got to look less suspicious than holding my phone as a flashlight. I decide to carry around a feather duster as I search the manager’s office.
There isn’t much on Bill’s desk. I take a few pictures of receipts. I pull out a few files, but nothing looks out of the ordinary. All of the accounting is taken care of by the corporate office. All payments and income go directly there. There really i
sn’t much to look at. Hopefully the auditors will find what we can’t. I turn on the computer, but since I don’t have the manager’s login, it doesn’t help, and I turn it off.
As I leave the building, I wonder if the problem is even at this office. I hope the accounting firm we hired to look into this is having better luck than I am. I’m going to hang out in Peak City a while longer, a few weeks, to be sure there’s nothing fishy going on here, and honestly, to have time to get to know Zara on a whole new level.
My mind quickly runs over what I already know about her. Based on the scheme she put Rob up to today, she’s sneaky, and she goes after what she wants. I didn’t suspect a thing.
She’s brave, too, and good at rappelling, coming back for me. Most people wouldn’t have the knowledge or experience to do that.
Zara’s always been adventurous. What other seven-year-old would have a hiking birthday party? She’s the biggest reason I became interested in being a guide. She was always pushing us to try new things outdoors.
I can’t wait to find out more. I’m definitely staying.
7
Zara Harris
AT TWO THIRTY IN THE morning, I get a phone call from the hospice service and quickly dress. It’s Saturday, but it’s not like my job really has weekends or holidays, or even business hours.
Mom wouldn’t be up for several hours, and as soon as the healthcare aide shows up, I leave to pick up a deceased woman. Since this woman has been on hospice for a couple of weeks, the family has already talked with me about funeral arrangements. I should be done and back upstairs before Mom wakes up if everything goes smoothly.
Since the family has requested a green burial, I skip the embalming process and focus on helping her look her best for her family—I manipulate her facial features to look more like she’s sleeping, add a little padding to the cheeks, wire her jaw, seal her eyes, then massage her muscles to move her into the position we want for the burial.
