by Inara Scott
“Spare me,” Kelsey said, glaring at Tank. She could just imagine what the kids would say when they saw Ross that night.
Not that she was thinking about Ross. Because she wasn’t. She’d stopped thinking about him days ago, when it became clear that “can I call you sometime?” was Ross-speak for “Thanks for the hot sex, but we probably shouldn’t see each other again.”
She’d considered not bringing the kids climbing today. Separating herself from the Bencher family was probably the best idea. Seeing them again was just prolonging the inevitable.
But then Matt had called to ask what they should wear, and if his dad should buy something special, and Kelsey could hear Julia in the background yelling in a funny, singsong voice, “Kel-sey, we miss you.”
And she was undone.
When was the last time anyone—other than Marie—had missed her when she left? When had she ever been the object of such undeserved, unrestrained affection?
“Can you get the kids some shoes, Tank? We’ll just boulder today.”
He nodded. “Of course. Sizes?”
While Tank and the kids exchanged shoes, Kelsey looked around. The gym was enormous, with one side dedicated to long, roped climbs, and the other to shorter climbs that could be done without a harness or ropes. One corner had climbs especially designed for kids, with the hand and footholds closer together, and shorter drops from the top.
A group of climbers waved to Kelsey as they walked in. She’d been coming here for years, sometimes twice a day when she was training for a big expedition, and had taught a variety of classes as well, filling in wherever they needed her when she was between trips. Besides the climbing walls, the gym had a workout area with a few pieces of cardio equipment, weights, and pull-up bars. In the evenings, it became a hangout out for a group of regulars. Kelsey had tried to bring Marie once, but her friend been overwhelmed by the bare-chested, muscley men and athletic women who sipped wheat-grass shakes between pull-ups. An hour later, she’d pulled Kelsey out of the place and made her promise never to bring her back.
Some things, she’d proclaimed, did not go together. Marie and climbing walls were two of them.
Kelsey had laughed her off but didn’t waste time protesting. Though she enjoyed Tank and the people she’d met at the gym, she’d never gotten particularly close to any of them. For them, climbing was a sport, a way to blow off steam or meet people. If they felt like knocking off halfway through a workout, they would. If they lost their nerve on dicey overhang, they jumped off. Kelsey didn’t have that luxury.
After getting their shoes settled and finding an empty cubby for their things, she led the kids over to the easiest climbing wall. She gave them a brief lesson on climbing—little things, really, about leaning into the wall, using their legs, and moving slowly from hold to hold—and then a much longer lecture about safety. When she was finally done, she surveyed her audience.
“You guys ready to give it a try?” she asked.
When they left the counter, Matt and Julia had been bouncing with excitement. Luke, as usual, had been glowering. Yet somehow, during her talk, everything had changed. Julia’s eyes had grown round as saucers, and Matt, whom Kelsey had expected to jump right up on the wall, hung back.
“Can we, um, watch for a little while first?” Matt asked.
“If you want,” Kelsey said. She pointed to a line of tape on the floor about four feet from the wall. “You can’t go past that line without me, okay? I don’t want you getting underneath any of the other climbers.”
Matt and Julia nodded solemnly, and then Julia elbowed Matt. “Let’s watch him,” she said, pointing to a man inching his way up a simulated crack between two walls.
“We’ll be back in a few,” Matt told Kelsey, his chest puffed out in an attempt to look unconcerned. Kelsey hid a smile. While she wanted Matt to enjoy his day of climbing, she wasn’t sure it was an entirely bad thing for him to have a moment of doubt before he jumped in.
She waited until the two were out of earshot before she turned to Luke. After a morning of negative comments, she suspected she knew what he’d say. Still, she asked, “How about you? Do you want to give it a try?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
Kelsey raised her eyebrows in surprise. Of the three kids, she’d never imagined Luke would approach the wall first. “Great,” she breathed, trying to sound enthusiastic, rather than shocked.
He stepped forward with his usual air of disinterest, but something had changed. He rose experimentally on his toes, stretched up his arms a few times, and bit his lip in concentration. That was when Kelsey got her first inkling of hope. The idea of climbing was very different from the experience of it. She’d seen more than a few cocky men turned to nervous wrecks by the prospect of actually getting on the wall, and she’d seen people who claimed to be completely uncoordinated and unathletic shine on their first trip up.
Luke wore a faded white T-shirt that did nothing to hide his skinny arms and torso, and baggy shorts that ended somewhere around his knees. His mix of bravado and vulnerability caught Kelsey, as it often did when she wasn’t being completely annoyed by him, with an uncanny emotional force. He stopped and stared up at the wall, his eyes narrowed. Just as Kelsey was about to ask if he was okay, he reached up and pulled himself to the first set of holds. And then, when he placed his arms above his head and moved higher, something remarkable happened.
Luke Bencher started to smile.
It was an unexpected, fragile thing, that smile. It twisted the corners of his mouth in a way that suggested he wasn’t entirely comfortable making the gesture, but couldn’t quite help himself. Apart from a few times when Ross had made him laugh, she wasn’t sure she could recall seeing his face move in precisely that way before. The beauty of it staggered her.
He moved with surprising grace, easily making it to the top of the wall with a few quick moves, and then coming back down without a moment of hesitation. Kelsey’s mouth dropped open. She forced herself to look unsurprised. “Hey,” she said casually, “that looked good. Why don’t you try that one?” She pointed at another spot, about ten feet away.
Luke barely looked at her before moving into position. This climb was harder, and he had to stop and think a few times, shifting his feet and feeling above his head for the right hold. But again he moved confidently, never looking down or showing any hint of fear, the same unexpected quirk to his lips. Kelsey positioned herself to the side so she could see his face. His eyes were intense but clear. Sparkling.
He got to the top, climbed down, and then moved a few feet away, to try another route. This time, he got stuck halfway, paused, and reached out for a hold above his head. His fingers slipped and he fell several feet, landing on his bottom on the mound of soft mats.
Kelsey hurried over to his side, but he simply stood up as if nothing had happened, brushed off his backside, and approached the same climb. She had just opened her mouth to ask him if he was okay when an unexpected voice came from behind her.
“Nice work, son. This time, try moving your feet before you go for that hold. Might make a difference.”
Kelsey tensed. The bubble that had formed around them popped. Without looking, Luke gave a quick nod and started back up the wall. The man who had spoken came to stand next to her. He was a few inches taller than she was, with sandy brown hair cut short. The skin around his eyes was a shade lighter than the rest of his face, as if he’d spent a lot of time in the sun wearing goggles, or wide-lensed sunglasses. Deep wrinkles radiated from the corners of his dark-brown eyes.
“Hi, Dad.”
Please be in a good mood. Please…
She should have known he would be here. Though he usually came in the afternoon, he was spending more hours now, in the final push before they left for Nepal.
“Is this one of those kids you were babysitting?” He didn’t sound mad. When she darted a quick look, she saw that he was holding a disposable coffee cup, which was a good sign. When he was in one of his reall
y bad moods he refused to talk to anyone, including baristas.
Still, he couldn’t be happy to find her here with the kids. He’d complained enough when he heard she was taking care of them last week. With only a few weeks to go, he wasn’t happy with anything that took her attention from her training.
“Yes,” she said lightly. “His name’s Luke.”
“How long has he been climbing?” he asked.
“First time.”
He grunted with apparent approval of Luke’s native climbing ability. “That’s good,” he called to the boy. “Reach up with the left hand…the left hand… No, your other left.” He rolled his eyes when Luke paused to switch hands. “He’s as bad with right and left as you were.”
“Thanks, Dad.” Kelsey felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders. She allowed herself a tiny smile. “Since you were my teacher, though, don’t you only have yourself to blame?”
“Suppose you’re right about that one.” He took a sip of coffee, wincing as Luke tried for a handhold and missed, tumbling to the mat in a tangle of knees and elbows. “Just pick yourself up and start again,” he advised the boy. “Nothing wrong with falling.”
Luke paused for a moment before he rolled to his feet. “Thanks,” he said, before bouncing back onto the first level of the climb.
Her father nodded, and Kelsey closed her eyes with relief. At fifty-eight, Mick Hanson was in the kind of shape twenty-year-olds emulated. His torso was corded with muscles sculpted from wire and grit, and his resting pulse rate was so low he set off heart rate monitors on the rare occasions he visited the doctor. He scoffed at Kelsey’s marathons, preferring the hundred-mile ultramarathons he did once or twice a year. But the deep lines around his mouth and bleak set to his eyes revealed that the years had not always been kind. Extreme fitness was no substitute for the optimism of youth.
When he was in a good mood, he could be an incredible teacher. Kelsey knew that from years of personal experience. When things didn’t go his way, on the other hand, he could be moody and downright mean.
“The kid looks like a natural,” Mick said, crossing his arms over his chest as he studied Luke’s form. “You sure this is his first time?”
“Not many climbing walls in New York City,” she replied, feeling a strangely maternal surge of pride at the praise. “At least, I assume there aren’t. Can’t say I really know for sure.”
At that moment, Julia appeared and tugged on Kelsey’s pants. “Kelsey, I want to try. Can I try now?”
Kelsey gave a gentle tug to one of Julia’s braids. “Of course.” She looked around for the rest of their group. “Where is Matt?”
“He doesn’t want to do it. He’s still watching. But I want to try.”
Kelsey craned her neck around, searching the gym, and caught a glimpse of Matt’s red shirt on the other side of the room. Once she had Luke and Julia going, she’d find Matt and coax him up onto the wall. But for now, she thrilled at having the chance to protect Luke’s success from competition with his younger brother.
“Great. Let’s go to that one.” She pointed to a spot a few feet down from Luke.
Julia clapped her hands, her body a combination of fear and excitement. She waited for Kelsey’s nod of approval before she crossed the tape and touched the wall. Kelsey moved to position herself behind the girl, keeping her hands close to the girl’s body to help her feel protected, though the wall was low and the floor padded enough that there was little threat of real injury.
Mick followed them. “What’s the schedule this week?”
“I’m biking tomorrow, hiking Wednesday, and running Thursday,” Kelsey replied. She kept her attention on Julia. “Great move, honey,” she said, when the girl pulled herself a few feet up the wall.
“Did you see the e-mail from Artisan?” Mick asked. “They need to reschedule our final photo shoot.”
Artisan was one of their corporate sponsors. The company made high-end climbing gear and loved the father-daughter hook of the expedition to Annapurna. Kelsey knew the fact that she was climbing with her father had helped close the deal with another sponsor as well, this one a manufacturer of tents and sleeping bags. They’d been working with both companies since their first trip to Annapurna, three years ago. When the storm had forced them off the mountain, the sponsors had been disappointed, but willing to give it a second try. Chances were, they wouldn’t give a third.
Losing their sponsors would be devastating. Himalayan expeditions could run close to $100,000, and without funding, there was little chance Kelsey and her father could afford to go. At least, not without several more years of working and saving money. And even though Mick was in amazing shape, he wasn’t getting any younger. Kelsey had the distinct feeling that this was their last chance to make it up the mountain.
Just to add a little more pressure to the expedition. Because things were so lighthearted right now.
“Way to go, Jules,” Kelsey called when Julia reached the top and squinted over her shoulder, a grin splitting her tiny face. “That was amazing.”
“What do I do now?” the black-haired sprite asked, her expression uncertain.
“Climb down,” Kelsey said.
Julia paused, lowered a foot, then a hand, and then jumped off the wall, landing in a heap on the soft mats. She rolled onto her back and threw her arms out wide, giggling. “That was fun.”
“Just be careful when you jump,” Kelsey said, pulling her gently to her feet by one hand. “You don’t want to fall on top of someone else.”
Julia hopped onto her feet. “I promise.” She ran to the wall and placed her hands on the plastic handholds that had been carefully positioned at just the right height for a small climber. “Can I go ahead?”
Kelsey nodded. “Sure. I’ll keep an eye on you.”
She positioned herself a few feet away so she could watch Luke as well. The older boy had moved farther down the wall and was now attempting a harder climb, one designed for a beginning adult, rather than a child. Still, he was making a good go of it, gritting his teeth as he tried a difficult move requiring him to switch his feet on a single foothold before stretching to reach a handhold above his head.
“Never thought I’d see you with a bunch of kids,” Mick said.
Coming from any other parent, this might have been a sly hint that he was impatient for grandchildren. But Kelsey knew well that grandkids were the last thing on Mick’s mind. His comment was more of a dig, a way to let her know he was watching and judging.
“I’m keeping up with my training, Dad,” she said, wishing she didn’t feel a surge of guilt when she thought about the run she’d skipped on Friday, or the extra margarita she’d had with Marie on Saturday when it became clear that Ross wasn’t going to call.
“If you say so.”
“I also double-checked on our travel arrangements and visas, and returned those crampons that were damaged in shipping.”
Mick grunted, shooting her a sideways glace. “As long as you aren’t getting distracted.”
“I’m not distracted,” she snapped, the easy moment between them dissolving in a surge of irritation.
“You aren’t going to back out on the Artisan shoot, are you? You haven’t scheduled a babysitting job or started running a summer camp?”
“No, I won’t back out of the shoot.” Kelsey ran an exasperated hand through her hair. “For Pete’s sake, have I ever backed out on anything before?”
His mouth twisted, and he turned away from her to watch Luke. “Just the summit. But that was a big one, don’t you think?”
Chapter Twelve
The brilliant afternoon sun reflected off the surface of Ross’s laptop, and he spun around in his new office chair to adjust the window shade. The whir of the blinds falling into place echoed in the empty room. Someday, he imagined, the light, open space in downtown Denver would be filled with file cabinets, a drafting table, and comfortable chairs for conferences, but right now, it held only the large oak desk he’d had deliver
ed that morning, his laptop, and a printer. A waterfall of papers decorated the empty desk, while a document titled “Stagefeather” taunted him from the open computer.
But he really wasn’t thinking about work.
Call her… Call her not… Call her… Call her not.
Had he ever struggled so much with one simple decision?
Ross stared at the phone on the desk as if it might actually stand up and lecture him in a metallic, pseudo-human voice. “Please make a decision, idiot, so we can all get on with our lives.”
Familiar arguments warred for control of his brain, as they had ever since she’d left on Friday. On one hand, he knew it would be ridiculous to pursue her further. Neither he nor the kids could handle complications right now, and as gorgeous and sexy as she was, Kelsey was all kinds of complicated. On the other hand, he wanted her with a hunger he couldn’t begin to explain, a gnawing that began in his gut and pulsed through every cell of his body.
Glumly, he continued to stare at the phone, his hands not moving. She was different from any woman he’d ever known. Something was driving her. Something deep and powerful. Unlike the carefree, irresponsible vagabond he’d assumed she must be, he didn’t get the sense that she took any joy in her upcoming trip. She’d flared with a powerful sense of injustice when he suggested she was irresponsible for being a climber.
In fact, the more he got to know her, the less she seemed to fit the stereotype he wanted to fit her into. When he watched her with the kids he saw someone imminently trustworthy. Safety-conscious to a fault. She took a damn first aid kit with her on a trip to the park. How irresponsible could she be? When he asked the kids to perform their new gymnastics skills in the living room, Julia had told him—in a voice eerily reminiscent of Kelsey—that the living room was too small for them to practice in safely, and if he wanted to see them they’d have to go to the basement or outside in the backyard.
