Chapter Eight
COLE
If that tourist hadn’t interrupted them, he might very well have done something he shouldn’t, and that just wouldn’t do.
He couldn’t go around crossing lines with tourists, especially pretty pink-haired ones who had made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t interested.
His heart was still racing from watching her slip, and he was grateful he’d been her partner instead of one of the other tourists who had no idea what this mountain had in store.
Cole could hike these trails with his eyes closed—he knew them that well.
That’s why he got paid the big bucks… if you could even call it that.
Truth was, he had no idea what counted as “big bucks” anymore, too far removed from what society deemed important.
Money didn’t mean much to him anyway. He cared more about relationships, friendships, birthdays, and holidays than the gifts that came with them.
Making people happy was what mattered most to him, which was why he loved this particular part of his job.
Watching the tourists’ faces light up with joy at the sight of the sun cresting the horizon never got old.
Moments before, those same faces had been shadowed by the darkness of early morning—weary from the climb, exhausted and out of breath from the grueling switchbacks.
But the instant the sun appeared, casting its glow across the untouched snow from the night before and making it sparkle like billions of diamonds, everything changed.
He’d seen tears more times than he could count.
He glanced over at Aspen again, her face set with determination and grit as she kept the pace for the rest of them.
He knew her knee was giving her trouble—had known it would.
He’d seen injuries like that before and people who pushed themselves too hard only to end up reinjuring what wasn’t fully healed.
His mom had undergone a double knee replacement about five years ago, and Cole had taken a few months off work to help her recover.
It had been one of the hardest things he’d ever had to watch a loved one go through—dealing with pain he couldn’t fully understand.
His dad had been right there beside her, and so had the rest of his siblings.
Being the tight-knit family they were, none of them could stand to sit back when someone they loved was hurting.
But what he hadn’t considered was the monster the surgery would unleash.
Never in all his years had he heard his mother swear, yell, or direct anger at him, his siblings, or his dad.
Yet the pain meds had done something to her.
It had altered her personality, turning her into an anger-fueled person who wanted nothing to do with anyone.
She sank into depression, and when they took away the medication that had helped with her pain, her anger only grew.
They were all at a loss, unsure of what to do.
The dear, sweet woman that he once knew had turned into someone he could barely recognize.
She had always been the one with a positive attitude, a bright outlook on life.
As a child, he remembered her teaching him that a smile could cure the world.
But apparently in the face of pain and the inability to do all the things that she had once done, not even the brightest smile could lift her darkness.
It took about six months of physical therapy, along with visits to various doctors, therapists, and addiction specialists, for his mom to finally begin showing glimpses of her old self.
Even now, five years later, she wasn’t the same person she had been before.
So he knew. He knew what surgery could do to a person—life-altering procedures that could go one way or the other.
His mom’s had been successful in that her knees were functioning properly, but what it did to her mentally was another matter entirely.
“You keep looking over at me like that, and you might miss another ice patch. Then I’ll be the one saving your butt,” Aspen’s out-of-breath voice reached his ears.
“Sorry, again. Just making sure you’re good. You have one of those faces that… well… never mind.” He didn’t want to say the wrong thing again, so it was better to just keep his mouth shut.
“Nope. Don’t you dare, mister If you’re going to say something to me, just say it already.”
He could hear the insistence in her voice.
“Alright, alright. I was just gonna say you wear your feelings, plain as day, on that face of yours. Heart-on-your-sleeve type of thing.” He waited for her to chastise him in the darkness, but only silence met his ears—the sound of heavy breathing behind him as everyone struggled to catch their breath on the steep incline.
“Sorry, Aspen. I said I didn’t want to say it, and now I’ve gone and upset you again.
Guess I should just stop talking.” His words usually made people smile, so he couldn’t figure out why he kept making things worse every time he opened his mouth.
“I seem to have a talent for putting my foot in my mouth. Maybe I should start eating my words before they escape.”
“Nah. It’s okay, Cole. My Papa Bear says that all the time.
It’s one of the reasons I could never do the interviews with the journalists about my knee.
My expressions would have told them to take a hike.
So I wrote everything down, and my dad would edit out the sassy stuff before submitting it.
Otherwise, my fans would think I was some witchy, rich brat whining ‘woe is me.’” He could almost see her holding up air quotes as she said it and let out a little puff of air, and he struggled not to laugh while catching his breath.
“What’s that? Were you trying to say something? I can’t hear you over all that heavy breathing. I would’ve thought this hike wouldn’t touch you, given how often you do it,” she teased, making his smile stretch even wider across his wind-chapped face.
“Very funny. It’s literally straight up. Never in my ten years as a mountain guide have I seen anyone do this hike without being out of breath.” He exaggerated his breathing, wheezing and staggering his steps for effect.
“Oh my gosh—stop it, would you?” she called out as he continued the dramatic display.
“You’re probably making the others think you’re having an asthma attack or something.” He exaggerated his gasping even more, fighting his laughter.
“Holy moly, Cole. Are you really having an asthma attack over there? Should I be worried? Do you need me to grab your inhaler or something?”
He could hear the teasing in her voice, mixed with genuine concern, so he finally stopped.
“No, I was just messing with you. The kids usually get a kick out of that. But since there aren’t any kids on this trip, I guess my over-the-top acting skills are going to waste.
” He teased, picturing her rolling her eyes as they rounded another corner.
“Last switchback of the hike, everyone. There are benches at the top so you can rest until the sun rises. We’re right on time, and the skies are clear, so you should have plenty of time for photo ops. ”
Grunts and groans reached his ears, making him chuckle, as he and Aspen climbed side by side up the final switchbacks.
Once they reached the top, he left Aspen at a bench to stretch her knee and made his rounds, checking that no one was struggling with altitude sickness or breathing difficulties.
Over the years, a few tourists had experienced altitude issues that needed quick attention, so he made a point of asking everyone a few questions before letting the group mosey around the summit until sunrise.
“Alright guys, we’ve got about twenty minutes until sunrise.
Find a seat, take a breather, grab another snack, drink some water, and I’ll give you a heads-up about five minutes before the sun peaks so we can get everyone in a good spot for photos.
” He made his announcement, leaving his right-hand man with the newbie guide to mingle with the tourists, then made his way back to where he had left Aspen and took a seat next to her on the bench in the darkness.
“You want a snack or anything?” He dug into his pack, pulling out a gallon-sized Ziploc filled with homemade granola bars, trail mix, jerky, and fruit leather and held it out to her, shining his flashlight on it.
“Oh my gosh, you’re such a foodie—first the hot chocolate last night, and now snacks. Figures you’d have a whole Ziploc full of goodies.”
“What? I get hungry, and I’m out here all day. Gotta get some form of nutrients so I can keep myself from dying of hunger on the trail.”He pulled out another granola bar, and they quietly unwrapped their snacks and started eating.
“Oh wow… What are these? They’re amazing! You’ve gotta tell me the brand so I can get some when I get home.” He heard her hum in appreciation as she chewed, clearly impressed.
“Oh, I don’t eat prepackaged food. Preservatives aren’t good for you. I make them myself.” He took another bite, and when he didn’t hear anything from her, he shined his flashlight on her, only to find a dumbfounded look on her face.
“Ahem. I’m sorry… what? You what?” She cleared her throat, thumped her fist against her chest, and tried to swallow again. “Sorry, I need a drink.” She grabbed her water and took a few gulps before giving him her attention again.
“As I was trying to say a moment ago… Did you just say you made this granola bar?” Aspen held the empty package up to her face in disbelief, pointing at it with her finger.
So he said the first thing that came to mind: “Darn Tootin’.” And immediately wished he could take it back as she burst out laughing. Why couldn’t he have just said yes? One simple word. But no—he had to say “Darn Tootin’,” a phrase he had never uttered in his entire life. What. An. Idiot.