13. Amelia
Chapter thirteen
Amelia
I rummaged through my closet like a squirrel searching for its winter stash, tossing aside sundresses and sandals in my quest for old tennis shoes. My hand brushed against something smooth and leather-bound, and I pulled out my high school yearbook. Talk about a blast from the past.
Flipping through the pages, I cringed at my younger self's loopy handwriting and the abundance of hearts around a certain someone's photos. Trevor Phillips, my high school crush, turned... well, I wasn't quite sure what we were now. Complicated? Definitely. More than friends? Absolutely.
I shoved the yearbook back into the closet's black hole and finally unearthed my old tennis shoes. They looked like they'd been through a war with an art supply store, but they were comfortable. And right now, comfort trumped style.
Tugging them on, I silently prayed they'd magically transform into proper hiking boots. In the kitchen, I packed water and granola bars, Susan's words echoing in my head: "Yoga is not comparable to hiking, Amelia. You might want to wear more than just your floral leggings and tank top." Thanks for the vote of confidence.
A knock at the door jolted me from my packing frenzy. There stood Trevor, looking like he'd stepped out of a rugged outdoor catalog. His faded t-shirt and jeans shouldn't have looked that good, but somehow, they did.
"Ready to hit the trails?" His smile made my stomach do a little somersault.
My eyes darted from Trevor to the hulking motorcycle behind him, then down to my sad excuse for hiking shoes. "I... uh, I've never ridden one of those before. Is it safe?"
Trevor held out a helmet, his grin widening. "There's a first time for everything, right? Don't worry, I'll keep you safe."
As we roared down the road, I clung to Trevor like a koala to a eucalyptus tree. But slowly, the fear melted away, replaced by exhilaration. The wind whipped through my hair, and I found myself grinning like an idiot behind my helmet. The world blurred past in a canvas of greens and browns, the familiar streets of Rivermint Cove giving way to winding country roads.
When we arrived at the trailhead, I was almost disappointed. Trevor helped me off the bike, his touch lingering just a bit too long to be casual. The air here was different—crisp and clean, with a hint of pine that made me feel like I'd stepped into another world.
"You alright?" His brow furrowed with concern.
"Never better," I lied, hoping my wobbly knees weren't too obvious. "So, this is where teenage Trevor used to hang out, huh? I'm picturing you brooding on rocks, writing angsty poetry."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Not quite. But I did come here to clear my head sometimes. Wait till you see the view—it'll take your breath away."
As we started up the trail, Hero's excited yips echoing around us, I found myself drinking in the scenery. Towering trees formed a canopy overhead, dappling the path with sunlight. Wildflowers peeked out from between rocks, adding splashes of color to the earthy palette.
"It's beautiful," I breathed, pausing to admire a particularly vibrant patch of wildflowers. "I bet these would look amazing in a bouquet."
Trevor smiled, a softness in his eyes I wasn't used to seeing. "I knew you'd appreciate it. Just wait, it gets better."
As we climbed higher, the trees began to thin out, revealing glimpses of the valley below. My legs burned with the effort, but the anticipation of what lay ahead kept me going. Finally, we emerged onto a rocky outcrop, and I gasped.
The view was stunning. Rivermint Cove lay spread out below us like a miniature model town, nestled in a patchwork of green fields and forests. In the distance, I could see the glint of the river that gave our town its name, winding its way through the landscape.
"Trevor, this is... wow." I was at a loss for words, which didn't happen often.
He stood beside me, a proud smile on his face. "Told you it was worth the hike. I used to come up here when I needed to escape. Somehow, seeing the town from up here made my problems seem smaller."
I turned to look at him, seeing not just the man he was now but glimpses of the boy he used to be. It made my heart ache in a way I wasn't quite ready to examine.
"Ready to catch some dinner? There's a pond over there." He handed me a rod like it was Excalibur.
I eyed the contraption warily. "I've never actually been fishing before. Is it as boring as it looks on TV?"
"Don't worry, I'll teach you. It's not boring when you're with the right person."
Famous last words. Within minutes, I'd tangled my line twice and nearly hooked Hero's tail. Trevor patiently untangled each mess, his fingers brushing against mine in a way that made me forget all about fishing.
"Maybe I should stick to flower arranging," I sighed, plopping down on a nearby rock like a deflated balloon. My fishing career was about as successful as a cactus in a rainforest.
Trevor, ever the optimist, handed me back the pole. "Nonsense. You just need more practice. Rome wasn't built in a day, nor was a master angler."
For the next hour, I cast and reeled with all the grace of a drunk octopus. Just as I was about to throw in the towel (or the fishing rod), I felt a tug that nearly yanked my arm off.
"Holy petunias! I think I got something!" I yelped, jumping like I'd sat on a porcupine.
Trevor rushed over, eyes wide as saucers. "Reel it in slowly," he coached, his hands guiding mine on the pole. I tried not to focus on how warm or perfect they felt over mine.
Together, we battled the aquatic beast, the line zipping through the water like a caffeinated snake. With one final heave that nearly sent me tumbling into the lake, we pulled our prize ashore—a tiny trout could've been a sardine's younger brother.
We burst into laughter that echoed across the lake, probably scaring every fish within a mile radius. "I can't believe it," I gasped between giggles. "All that work for the Nemo of trouts."
Trevor grinned, gently unhooking our minuscule catch. "Hey, size doesn't matter. It's all about technique."
As he released the fish back into the water, I felt a ridiculous sense of pride. Amelia Carter, flower shop owner, and certified city girl had caught a fish. Sort of.
Riding high on my 'big catch,' I settled next to Trevor on the sun-warmed rocks. Hero curled up at our feet, probably wondering why we'd spent so long trying to catch his snack.
Trevor dug into his backpack like Mary Poppins into her carpet bag, pulling out container after container. "I hope you're hungry," he grinned, handing me a sandwich that looked like it belonged in a food magazine.
I unwrapped it, my stomach doing the rumba in anticipation. I took a bite and realized this wasn't just any sandwich. It was my favorite bread, with the perfect ratio of fillings and... "Are these my favorite chips?" I asked, holding up the familiar blue bag like it was the Holy Grail.
Trevor ducked his head, looking almost bashful. It was adorable. "I might have a good memory for important details."
I nudged him playfully. "Well, aren't you full of surprises, Mr. Firefighter Florist."
We munched in companionable silence for a few minutes, savoring the food and the view. But my mind kept drifting back to our earlier conversation about the shop.
I glanced at Trevor, who was finishing his sandwich with impressive speed. "So, about this firefighter calendar idea. Were you serious, or was that just a ploy to get me up this mountain?"
He leaned back on his elbows, looking like a rugged model for Outdoor Monthly. "Absolutely serious. The guys would be up for it, especially for a good cause. Plus, it gives them an excuse to show off."
I raised an eyebrow, fighting a smirk. "And what's in it for them besides the chance to flex for the camera?"
Trevor's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Well, I was thinking... What if we sweeten the deal with a paintball battle in that field behind your garden?"
I nearly inhaled a chip. "A paintball battle? Near my precious plants? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"
"Not IN your garden," he clarified, chuckling at my horrified expression. "BEHIND it. We could set up obstacles and make it a real challenge. Think of it as team-building with a side of controlled chaos."
I had to admit, it was a tempting offer. The guys would love it, and it could drum up more interest in the calendar than my flyers ever could.
"Alright, you've got a deal, Rambo," I held my hand. "But if a single paintball even looks at my petunias funny, you'll be on weeding duty for a month."
Trevor grasped my hand, his smile widening. "Don't worry, I'll keep them in line. Firefighter's honor."
As we shook on it, a low rumble of thunder crashed overhead like the world's grumpiest stomach. We glanced up to see the sky had turned an ominous shade of gray, looking about as friendly as a wet cat.
"Uh oh," I said, frantically packing our lunch. "Looks like Mother Nature's about to throw a tantrum."
Trevor stood, hauling me to my feet with ease. "We better get moving. It's a long hike back, and I don't fancy becoming human lightning rods."
We set off down the trail at a brisk pace, trading quips about my uncanny ability to attract bad weather like a magnet.
"Of course, this would happen on my first hike," I grumbled, stumbling over a root for the umpteenth time. "And, of course, my legs would choose now to turn into overcooked spaghetti."
Trevor glanced back at me, his expression a mix of amusement and concern. "You doing okay back there, Bambi?"
I stuck my tongue out at him, real mature-like. "Just peachy. Remind me again why I let you talk me into this death march?"
He slowed down, falling into step beside me. "Because deep down, you love a challenge."
As Trevor finished speaking, the sky opened, pelting us with heavy raindrops. We exchanged a worried glance as the downpour intensified.
"We need to move faster," Trevor said, his voice firm.
I tried to keep up with his pace, but my foot caught on something. Pain shot through my ankle as I tumbled to the ground, a cry escaping my lips. Hero barked anxiously, tugging at his leash.
Trevor was at my side instantly, his hands gentle as he examined my rapidly swelling ankle. "Amelia, what happened?"
I gritted my teeth against the throbbing pain. "I think I twisted it. I can't put any weight on it."
His brow furrowed with concern as he glanced at the darkening sky. The gravity of the situation hit me - I couldn't walk, and we were far from safety.
"It's okay," Trevor said, his voice steady and reassuring. "I can carry you. We'll get through this."
Despite the pain, I couldn't help but quip, "My knight in shining armor. Just don't drop me, okay?"
Trevor's lips twitched into a small smile as he scooped me up. "I'd never let you fall, Amelia. You know that."
I held onto Hero's leash as Trevor carried me down the increasingly treacherous path. The rain intensified, making it harder for him to keep his footing. Halfway down, I realized I couldn't hold onto Hero much longer.
"Trevor," I called out over the downpour, "I can't keep hold of Hero!"
Without missing a beat, Trevor adjusted his grip, somehow managing to take Hero's leash while still carrying me. His strength and determination amazed me, but I could see the strain on his face.
Suddenly, he veered off the trail towards a large tree. "We need to make shelter," he explained, setting me down carefully. "It's not safe to continue in this weather."
I nodded, shivering as the cold rain soaked through my clothes. Trevor disappeared briefly, returning with armfuls of branches. I watched in awe as he quickly constructed a makeshift shelter using a tarp from his backpack.
Once it was complete, he helped me inside. It was cramped, but it kept the worst of the rain off. Hero curled up at our feet, whimpering softly.
"Guess we're stuck here for a while," I said, trying to keep my voice light despite the seriousness of our situation.
Trevor nodded, his expression grave. "At least until the storm passes. But don't worry, Amelia. I'll keep you safe. I promise."
There was no hint of teasing in his voice this time. I leaned my head against his shoulder, suddenly exhausted. "I know you will, Trevor. I trust you."
As the storm raged on, Trevor and I nibbled on the remaining sandwiches, trying to keep our strength up. The pounding rain and flickering lightning made it feel like we were in our own little world, cut off from everything else.
"You know," Trevor said, his voice low and thoughtful, "this reminds me of a mission back in Afghanistan. A sandstorm pinned us down, and we had to take shelter in a cave for two days."
I turned to look at him, surprised. Trevor rarely spoke about his military service. "That must have been intense. How did you manage?"
He nodded, his gaze distant. "It was tough. But you know what got me through? Knowing that I had a job and that people were counting on me. Same as now."
His words sent a shiver down my spine. I knew he was talking about more than just keeping me safe from the storm.
Hero whined softly, wedging himself between us as if seeking comfort. I scratched behind his ears, feeling a surge of affection for the little dog.
The storm showed no signs of letting up as the night wore on. Trevor and I settled in as best we could, trying to find a comfortable position on the hard, damp ground.
"Here," Trevor said, shifting his arm around me. "Lean on me. It'll be warmer that way."
I hesitated momentarily, then slowly nestled into his side, resting my head on his chest. His arm tightened around me, holding me close.
Despite the discomfort of our surroundings, I'd never felt safer. Trevor's steady heartbeat beneath my ear was soothing, his solid presence a shield against the storm.
As my eyes drifted shut, I realized with startling clarity that I was completely, utterly in love with Trevor Phillips. It wasn't just attraction or friendship. It was the real deal—the kind of love that made me want to face every storm and challenge as long as he was by my side. Who knew it would take getting stranded in the woods to make me see what was right in front of me all along?