Chapter 23 Lily #2
“I’m not sure.” I dig deep. “Actually, that’s not true. I’m afraid they’ll look at me differently. As much work as I’ve done, shame still cripples me, and what if—even if they mean well—their response is more about them. I-I don’t know.”
Noah slows and turns to face me, giving me his undivided attention. That’s one thing with Noah—he’s always listening. The way he’s staring at me, mid-path, prompts me to continue.
“I won’t be my dad’s sweet, innocent little girl anymore when he hears this. My mother will act like her perfect world has been turned upside down, and my brothers—hell—Liam would probably burn the state down looking for him. I just don’t know if it’s worth it.”
Noah threads his fingers through mine, offering a gentle squeeze. “If it helps you, then it’s worth it.”
“Seems a bit opposite of what I’ve come to know from the selfless Ranger Rick.” I grin, and he flicks my nose.
“Lily, on your behalf, I’ll be the most selfish man in the whole damn world.”
A zing sneaks up my spine, and I shudder. He really shouldn’t say this stuff to me. It has me wanting, needing, and I’m about ready to say screw the hike.
He leads me, and we end up walking what has to be another forty minutes or so.
Every so often, the trees break enough to reveal the glimpse of cliffs in the distance, the gray sheer faces kissed by the sun.
This path doesn’t have the open views I’m used to hiking, but something about the underbrush and canopied trees makes this feel intimate and closed off from the rest of the massive park.
Since the trail is unmarked, there aren’t any official markers or posted information, and I’m unsure how far we’ve actually hiked. But I’m pulled, regardless of distance, by the uncertainty of the wilderness, and I can picture Noah and me doing this often. Hell, I want to make a habit of it.
The sound of rushing water gets louder, and Max, after carefully remaining at our sides for most of the hike, darts ahead like he knows the way.
My heart pounds as we break free from the tangled, unkempt path, and the sight of the modest waterfall nearly knocks me on my ass. I gasp as Noah steps aside, allowing me a better view.
Tucked between the towering cliffs, capped with a dusting of snow, the water spills from a hidden ledge like it’s bleeding from a crack in the earth.
The water trickles down moss-slicked rocks, then vanishes into a kiddie-sized pool.
It resembles a hot spring, but I can only imagine the water is ice cold.
“This is beautiful,” I say, stepping closer to the edge of the water pool. A smooth boulder sits close to the water, and I climb on it, standing to stretch my arm forward just enough for the tip of my middle finger to graze the frigid water.
The tranquil hush of water gurgling is lulling. Occasionally the soft crack of a branch interrupts the calm, or Max rustling in the plethora of ferns outlining this small pocket of stillness.
Finally, when Max spends over a minute lapping up the fresh water, Noah chuckles. “Well, it can be peaceful.”
I squat to sit on the boulder. “How did you find this place?”
“I didn’t really. Was on a routine patrol and drove by to see a red car sitting where we parked.
Curious, I pulled off to find a couple who shared someone else had posted about it in a social media group for hikers.
” He shifts on his feet, boots leaving prints in the spongy dirt and sighs.
“Now I come out here whenever I need a break from it all or when I can’t fathom my mom not being here.
Max and I will make the hike, and I usually sit right where you’re sitting. ”
I tilt my head, studying him. Out of uniform he looks so down to earth, unintimidating. The solid muscles of his biceps flex as he crosses his arms, and I sigh. Those powerful arms are where I feel the most comfortable.
“Think she’s giving the nurse a hard time?” I ask.
He laughs and gives Max’s snout a lazy scratch. “She’s run everyone off besides you. I’ll be shocked if the nurse doesn’t call in the next hour and say she’s had enough. I’m not sure how you do it. She’s taken with you.”
“I think in another lifetime I was a grumpy old woman. Must be why I can keep up with her.” I shrug.
Noah moves toward me, looking down while I stare up at him. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His hand feathers along my jaw. “Your eyes—I can’t get enough.”
He grips the side of my face a little tighter and leans down to brush a tender kiss to my lips.
They’re warm and slightly salty, but when his tongue caresses the seam of my mouth, fresh mint sweeps in as I open for him.
He nips my bottom lip, and I sigh, nudging myself closer.
My thighs spread wider to accommodate his body and he presses into me, sending a shock of mouthwatering desire pulsing through me.
Stable against him, I remove my hands from the rock to fist his shirt, the fabric damp with sweat, but I don’t care. He’s sexy—desirable, even.
He kisses me deeply, our tongues battling to taste more of each other.
There’s a bark in the echoes of my mind, but Noah reacts faster than I do and he pulls away to crane his neck in Max’s direction.
I, however, lose my balance.
One moment, I’m steady, trying to writhe against Noah’s solid form. The next, the world is yanked out from under me, and suddenly there is nothing but empty air where he was standing.
A startled screech barely has time to leave my lips before I tumble, limbs flailing, toward the shallow pool.
There’s a blur of greenery and gray stone as I attempt to break my fall with my hands.
All I’m met with is the shock of the icy water as my right hand collides with something sharp.
Pain lances through my palm as I land on all fours, the water spilling up and over my back.
It’s not deep enough for me to plunge down into the water, but I still gasp and cough from the water splashing up into my face and in my nose.
“Lily!” Noah grits out, jumping down into the water. He fumbles for my arm and hauls me up.
My heart slams against my ribs while my hand throbs. The cold wind wraps around my now wet clothes, and I shiver, glancing down at the cut across the center of my palm. It’s an angry jagged line and blood wells up, pooling in the creases. It spills over the side and drips down my wrist.
“Damn it, Lily.” Noah tears through his white undershirt, ripping off a strip and carefully tying it over my cut. The fabric soaks through instantly. “Damn it,” he says again.
“I’m fine.”
Max barks somewhere through the trees, out of sight.
“Is he okay?”
“Something has his attention. Listen, we should go get this cleaned up. My cabin isn’t too far from here, unless you’d rather I take you home. Max, Heir.”
“The cabin is fine, but really, Noah, I’m fine. It’s just a simple cut.”
He gives me a look and helps me out of the water. My boots are soaked, and with each step back toward the path, my socks squish between my toes—disgusting.
“Max, Heir!” he yells.
Noah’s grip doesn’t let up as he drags me by my good hand back onto the path. It’s faint, but his hand shakes, and when I glance up at him, his eyes are focused and narrowed intently in the direction of the cars.
Max barrels through the brush, heeling to my side, and whines when he catches the whiff of blood from my hand.
“It’s okay,” I say to Max.
“No. It isn’t. I didn’t think before I moved. I can’t believe I let you fall.”
“I’m fine.”
It takes me reiterating “I’m fine” at least ten more times on the hike back for Noah to stop apologizing, and when we finally make it back, he loads me up into his truck with the promise he’ll bring me to my car after I’m all cleaned up.
While he drives, he leans to open the glove box and fumbles with the first aid kit. “Normally, I have my bag with me, but since I was off today, I left it home. There should be gauze in here.”
I search the kit, finding gauze and unwrapping the temporary covering Noah had made for me.
When the edges of the wound are exposed to air, I hiss.
Tiny flecks of dirt cling to the torn skin, and as my fingers work to open the gauze package, the movement sends a fresh wave of pain from the gash up my arm.
Stuffing the fresh gauze in my palm, I fist it, applying pressure as Noah drives faster than allowed.
His cabin truly is close, and in minutes we’re pulling past a ranger station sign warning people this is National Park Service access only and into a tight-knit grouping of cabins. They’re not very robust and more rustic than I’d imagined.
He lives here?
We pull into a single car gravel driveway next to one of them, and Noah hops out. He lets Max out who wanders around sniffing and marking several of the pines towering between the cabins.
I reach across my body with my left hand, moving to open the door, but Noah beats me to it.
“Your seat is a bit wet,” I say, gesturing back toward my ass print.
“It’ll dry. Come on. I’ve got my large kit inside.”
He runs up the few steps that lead to the door, and he unlocks it with a gold key.
I follow him and Max in, impressed with how standard the room is.
A living space with bunk beds to the left, a wood-burning stove, and a kitchen to the right.
A short hallway leads back toward a bedroom, the door open to display a large bed.
While I glance around, Noah digs around a tactical backpack for supplies and motions me over to the chair near the woodstove. The aroma of charred wood mixed with a cold smoky scent catches in my nose and I fight back a sneeze.
Noah crouches beside me, his brow furrowed in concentration as he takes my bleeding hand in his. He handles me with a firm but careful grip—his skin warm, cradling my trembling palm.
“Hold still,” he murmurs, reaching for a bottle of some sort of antiseptic liquid to rinse the wound.