Chapter 23 Between a Roquefort and a Hard Place
BETWEEN A ROQUEFORT AND A HARD PLACE
The next section required climbing over a series of large boulders, working their way upstream through a boulder field where water rushed around, and between the rocks.
Bayard struggled a bit here—his stiff leg made the climbing awkward and more difficult. It was eerily reminiscent of the river and the gorge that he and Exandra had snuck off to when they were still in training to work for The Society.
Twice he had to stop and rest. But he kept going, his jaw set with determination.
Exandra stayed close, ready to help but forcing herself not to offer unless asked.
At one particularly difficult spot, Bayard’s cane slipped and he dropped it. He watched helplessly as it clattered down into the water below. For the moment, he was stuck, balanced precariously atop the rock.
“Here,” Exandra said, offering her hand.
He took it, and she easily pulled him up to the boulder with her considerable strength.
They sat on top of the boulder together, catching their breath.
“Thank you,” Bayard said. He pulled out his wand and summoned the cane back to his side. “Should have used the safety strap. I guess I was a little distracted.” He looped the leather strap around his wrist and tightened the safety toggle.
“These things happen. You were doing fine.” Exandra waved his thanks away.
“I wasn’t, actually. But I appreciate the lie.”
They watched the water rushing past, and after a moment, Exandra changed the subject. “So. How about that Brie workshop? The disaster we made...”
“What about it?”
“I couldn’t make up my mind because I was so afraid of disappointing you. Of choosing wrong.” She took a breath. “I hate the idea of making another mistake, Bay. I don’t know if I could take it. Especially after I ruined everything.”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Bayard said quietly.
“I did. I pushed you to go to that gorge. I pushed you to test your water magic even though you said it was dangerous. I was reckless and stupid and—”
“You didn’t force me to do anything,” he interrupted. “I was trying to impress you. I wanted you to think I was cool. Brave and capable and worth—” He stopped.
“Worth what?”
“Worth getting to know a little better?” he whispered.
Exandra’s breath caught.
“Worth loving.” He finally got the word out.
“Hey, guys! Let’s keep moving,” Carlos called from ahead.
They stood, and Bayard was more careful with his cane this time. They didn’t talk any more about what he’d just said. They couldn’t.
Not just yet.
After an hour of climbing and rappelling, they reached the entrance to the narrow slot canyon.
It was barely wide enough for one person at a time to fit through in some sections.
The walls rose fifty feet on either side, and between them, the shallow river rushed by their ankles and knees with surprising force.
The recent rains had raised water levels higher than normal, and the current was strong and icy cold.
“This is the challenging part,” Carlos said.
“We’ll walk as a group through the slot now, sometimes wading, sometimes swimming.
The water should not be more than waist deep.
The current will push against you, but there are handholds carved into the walls.
Take your time. Stay close together.”He looked at the group.
“Anyone want to turn back? No shame in it. The river’s a little higher than I’d like. ”
The other four participants exchanged glances. Two of them decided to head back the way they’d come.
“What about you two?” Carlos asked Bayard and Exandra.
Exandra looked at the churning water, at the narrow canyon walls, and struggled to swallow the fear clawing at her throat. This was too much like that day. Too similar. The water, the rocks, the terrible rushing sound.
“I think we should go back,” she said.
“No,” Bayard said firmly.
“Bayard, look at it. The current’s too strong. This is exactly like—”
“Don’t you think I know what it’s like?” He shook his head at her. “That’s why I need to do it.”
“But you could—”
“Fall? Get hurt? Yes. I could.” He looked at her. “Or I could make it through. I could prove to myself that one accident ninety years ago doesn’t have to control my whole life.”
“I can’t—” Her voice broke. “I can’t watch you get hurt again. I can’t be responsible for—”
“You’re not responsible for anything that happened then, and you won’t be responsible for anything that happens now.” He touched her arm gently. “Exandra? There’s no going back. Only forward.”
“Why?” she demanded. She pulled him aside, dragging him farther down the riverbank.
They sat to talk while Carlos assembled the gear for the next stretch of the hike.
“Why are we doing this, Bay? Why are we both here on this cruise, pretending to be on a case, and why are you risking hurting yourself again in a gorge? Just tell me why!”
“Why do you think?” Bayard looked deep into her cool blue eyes.
“I haven’t the foggiest idea.” Exandra wrung her hands.
“Because obviously I still love you, you big, beautiful, purple-haired bruiser!” The words burst out of Bayard and echoed off the canyon walls.
He clapped a hand over his mouth, surprised at his own volume.
A moment later, he continued, a bit more quietly.
“Exandra, I’ve loved you since we were barely more than kids.
I was starstruck when I met you. And I’ve been your biggest fan for over ninety years.
I may not have been out in the field with you, but I’ve always been there watching, behind the scenes.
I’ve wanted to tell you how I felt a thousand times.
But I was always too scared. Afraid you’d pity me or feel guilty or awkward because you don’t feel the same way anymore.
Or maybe you never did. I kept waiting for the perfect moment to say something.
But that moment never happened and when I retired, and I realized I was out of moments, I panicked!
I invented the Culture Vulture because I thought it would give me an excuse to keep seeing you. ”
Exandra stared at him, eyes wide and bright.
“But I’m done waiting for perfect moments and making excuses, Exxie. I think I’m doing this now,” he continued, his voice coarse, “because I need to prove it to both of us that I’m not broken. I’m still the man you might have loved if I hadn’t—”
“Shut up! I do love you, you fool,” Exandra croaked.
She waved a hand in front of her face, attempting to shoo away tears as if they were flies.
“I’ve always loved you, Bay. And I couldn’t care less if you walk with a limp or if you walk at all.
I just can’t stand the thought of hurting you.
Because if anything else happens to you because of me, I don’t know what I’d do. ”
“You’re not going to lose me here, in waist-deep water.” Bayard laughed softly. “You heard Carlos’s spiel. He’s never lost anyone in the gorge. And he’s not going to lose anyone today. But I think I do need you to hike through that canyon with me. We both need to do this. Together.”
“Are you two coming or not?” Carlos called out to them, diplomatically pretending he hadn’t heard their entire confession.
Exandra studied Bayard. His hair was white, and he had a cane gripped tight in one hand.
But he was every bit the same man she’d fallen in love with as a young trainee.
She trusted him. She knew he knew what he was doing and for the first time in almost a century, she trusted he didn’t need her protection so much as her partnership.
“All right,” she whispered. “Let’s go. I’ll be right beside you.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The water was shockingly, teeth chatteringly cold. The kind of cold that took your breath away and made it difficult to speak.
They entered the canyon single file. Carlos went first, then Bayard, then Exandra.
The current grasped at them with frozen fingers, trying to trip them up and sweep them all downstream.
Bayard gripped the carved handholds in the rock wall with one hand and braced himself with the cane in the other, moving slowly but steadily.
“You’re doing great,” Carlos called back. “Just keep moving. Don’t stop.”
The canyon narrowed further. The walls pressed in on either side, and the water rose to their waists, then somewhat unexpectedly, it kept rising to their chests.
“I am sorry!” Carlos called out. “It’s higher than I thought. There is no turning back here. We must keep moving.”
Bayard held his cane above his head to keep it from being swept away.
Exandra stayed right behind him, one hand always reaching out, ready to catch him if he slipped.
But he didn’t slip. He moved with caution and precision, testing each handhold and foothold before fully committing his weight.
They rounded a corner and the current strengthened, surging against them with truly frightening force.
“This is the worst of it. There’s a pool ahead,” Carlos bellowed, making himself heard above the rushing water. “You must swim for about fifteen feet. The current’s strong, but aim for the rock outcropping on the left. You can climb out there.”
Bayard nodded, took a breath, and pushed off.
He swam with strong, sure strokes. His leg might be weaker, but his arms were powerful from years of using his cane, and he made it across the pool with only minor course correction.
Exandra followed, her superior strength making it look easy.
They climbed out onto the rock outcropping, dripping and panting.
“One more short section,” Carlos said, “and we’re through.”
They continued on. The walls narrowed even more, barely shoulder-width now. The water churned around their legs. The sound was deafening—rushing water, echoing off stone, filling the world with noise.
And then suddenly, almost unexpectedly, they were through it. The claustrophobic canyon opened up into a much wider area with pools of calm, shallow water, and sunlight streaming down from above.
“We made it,” Bayard said, vibrating with relief and triumph. “Exandra, we—”
But Exandra had stopped moving. She stood in the knee-deep water, staring at him with an expression he couldn’t read.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing’s wrong,” she said. “Everything’s wrong. Bayard, I—” Her voice cracked. “You just walked through a gorge like it was nothing. You’re perfectly capable and strong and you didn’t need me—” She sobbed. “You didn’t need me to protect you. You never needed me at all.”
“You’re wrong, Exxie. I did need you. I still do. Just maybe not in the way you were thinking.”
“I’ve held onto this guilt for ninety years,” she continued.
“Sometimes I think it’s all I have. This responsibility for what happened to you.
This need to keep working, to keep fighting, to somehow make up for what I did to you.
And now you’re telling me you were actually fine? That I didn’t ruin everything?”
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Bayard said firmly, moving toward her through the water. “If anything, that accident saved me. It gave me permission to stop trying to be something I wasn’t. To stop pretending I wanted the same exact things you wanted. To find work I actually loved.”
“But—”
“The only thing you ruined,” he said, “was any chance I had of finding another partner. Because how could I love anyone else when you were still out there, Exxie? How could I settle for anyone else when I’d spent my whole life only wanting you?”
“Oh, Bay! I don’t deserve—”
“Stop it.” He moved closer. “Stop telling yourself you don’t deserve happiness. Stop punishing yourself for ancient history that wasn’t your fault. Stop—”
“How?” she cried. “Tell me how I can just let go of ninety years of guilt and—”
He kissed her.
It wasn’t a gentle or tentative kiss. It was fierce and definitive and ninety years overdue.
Bayard grabbed the front of her wet jacket in one fist and pulled her to him.
Exandra wrapped her arms around him so tightly he could barely breathe, and they made out in the middle of the river like they were teenagers and like they were young adults and like they were trying to make up for every lost year in between then and now.
They kissed each other for every missed moment, and for every time they’d been too afraid to reach for each other.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Bayard pressed his forehead to her chest, delighting in the way it hammered the same beat as his own.
“I love you,” he whispered. “I’ve always loved you. And I don’t care how many logistics we have to figure out. I don’t care how complicated it is. I’m not letting you walk away from me again.”
“I love you, too,” Exandra whispered back. “But Bayard, I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how we make it work when you’re on a cruise ship and I’m—”
“We’ll figure it out,” he said. “When the time comes, we’ll figure it out. But right now, right here, can we just... be?”
She kissed him again, softer this time. “Yes. Yes, we can be.”
Ahead of them, in an attempt to give them a bit of privacy, Carlos had suddenly become a geologist. He was enthusiastically lecturing on the many types of rocks that could be observed and identified in the canyon walls, and the effects of erosion. Nobody was paying attention.
Behind them, the river kept churning and rushing, but there was no need to keep fighting the current. They’d made it through. Together.