4. Grant
FOUR
GRANT
I already regret this trip.
I should have just checked straight into the hermit cabin and holed up like I’d originally planned. Mountain biked during the day and sat on my tiny porch every evening watching the stars come out. Ignored Rhett’s calls and tried to pin down what’s had me so restless for the last several months.
But this backcountry trek had offered a closer look at the national forest without the hassle of arranging permits and renting gear, and I’d signed on without a thought. It was supposed to be easy and low-stress.
Now, I’m here in the woods with a woman who unknowingly makes everything difficult for me, and I am stressed .
The shiver of awareness that shot through me when Lila and I shook hands hasn’t gone away. If anything, it’s intensified with every scrap of conversation, every glimpse of her smile or her expressive brown eyes. I’m buzzing like a live wire, and I can’t decide if I should give in to the spark, or keep doing my best to douse it.
It makes no sense to get caught up in someone I’m only going to know for a handful of days. Doesn’t mean I can totally shake Rhett’s mantra from my head, though. Every time she smiles at me, stupid things spring to mind.
Then I remember all the reasons following Rhett’s advice is a terrible idea, and I slam back down to reality.
I arrange my gear in my tent, trying not to listen to the commentary buzzing around camp as Mitchell helps Lila with hers. He explains everything to her in a patient, fatherly way, and that alone will make me rate this trip five stars when I get back home. Nobody should ever be made to feel stupid when they’re trying something they’ve never done before.
If only someone would tell Brian and Scott. They’re not completely malicious, but they’re not going to let Lila forget her newness out here either. Even their applause when she finally gets her tent up seems more like mockery than good-natured cheering.
One of the key traits I’ve insisted on from new hires in my family’s outdoors stores is that there’s no such thing as a dumb question. Everybody who comes into our store is treated the same, no matter what their skills or interests might be. Our goal has always been to encourage people to get outside and enjoy whatever activity they like best. No judgment, no snobby elitism, no dreaded mansplaining.
I would never hire these guys, is what I’m saying.
After a quick lunch of bean and cheese burritos, we head out on the day hike. Deena said it’s only a mile each way, but it leads to clear views of three of the most prominent mountains in the area. I was in Oregon a few years back to climb Mount Hood, but I’ve never seen this part of the state. It’s the same mix of pine forest and volcanic rock from ancient lava flows that runs from Northern California up through British Columbia—and comfortably familiar, since I’ve summited several of the peaks in the Cascades.
“What do you think?” Scott says to me. Our group has shifted somewhat for the shorter hike, with Scott and Brian lingering in the back with Lila and me. Their wives are up front with Deena, and Mitchell ambles along between us. “Is hiking growing on you?”
“It just might.” I’ve been systematically crossing U.S. mountain peaks off of my bucket list for almost two decades, but I get the feeling he wouldn’t like to hear that. He wants to be the one offering advice, and I don’t mind letting him.
“We know it isn’t winning over Lila.” Brian tosses a smirk at her over his shoulder.
She throws a bright smile right back. “I’m not rushing out to book a second trip.”
“It’s only been a day.” My comment’s pointed at the two men, not her. They’re writing her off too easily, and it doesn’t sit right. Giving her a hard time will only crush whatever tiny interest she might otherwise have had. “That doesn’t seem like enough time for us to decide.”
“Oh, I’ve decided,” she mutters under her breath.
I stifle a laugh. I admire her self-acceptance, even if it undermines my defense of her just a touch.
“We climbed a mountain in Colorado last year,” Scott says. “A fourteener. You might not be familiar with the term.”
His superior tone pricks like a burr. Unfortunately, his attitude isn’t all that uncommon in a group with a mix of skills and experience like ours. I don’t really care if he aims it at me—I’m more than comfortable with my abilities—but it grates when he directs it at Lila.
I tell myself I would shield any other newcomers from the same condescension, but the urge has never been quite this visceral before.
“I know the term,” I say. “Which fourteener did you bag?”
“Gray’s Peak. There’s no better feeling than standing on top of the world. ”
A bit of a lofty description for a relatively short day hike, but I’m not going to argue—the high of reaching a mountain peak is addictive.
“Congrats,” I say, and I mean it. “Sounds like a good trip.”
“Ranks right up there with the births of my kids.”
Now I do want to argue. Lila and I share a brief look before I focus on him again. “I don’t know if I’d mention that to your kids.”
He laughs as though he didn’t equate the arrival of his children with an afternoon hike. “You just haven’t pushed yourself yet. When you’ve had enough of the beginner trails, you might want to try something more advanced. See what you’re made of.”
Brian’s goading grin slides right off my back. Pointlessly competing with my brothers? Bring it on. Pointlessly competing with strangers? Not interested. I climb mountains to prove myself to exactly one person: me.
“What if he doesn’t want to see what he’s made of?” Lila pipes up at my side.
His expression falters as he looks from her back to me. “There’s nothing wrong with a little challenge to test your mettle.”
“Yeah, but there’s nothing wrong with not testing it, too, right?” Her cheerful smile doesn’t hide her annoyance. “What if he’s fine with trails like this? Maybe Grant never wants to climb a mountain? That’s his choice, right?”
Brian blinks at her like he can’t quite figure out where he went wrong. And me? I’m way too flattered by how vigorously she’s defending me. True, she’s probably thinking of herself and her own choices, but I like the way she’s speaking up.
Just ahead of us, Mitchell pauses on the trail. “I’m sorry—did you say you never want to climb a mountain again, Grant? You’re giving up mountaineering? ”
Here we go. Maybe I should have cleared this up sooner, but it felt like a harmless bit of conversation. Now, I’m not so sure.
“I said he doesn’t have to try it if he doesn’t want to.” Lila swipes the back of her hand across her forehead, grimacing at the sheen of sweat that comes off. “Everybody has different tastes and likes different things.”
She makes deliberate eye contact with me. “And that’s totally fine.”
I am loving her unequivocal acceptance. Her insistence that I accept myself is even more endearing. I just wish I could come clean to her without our current audience listening in.
“I didn’t say he had to do anything.” There’s a note of laughter in Brian’s voice, as though he’s about five seconds away from saying, “Calm down, little lady.”
Is it wrong I’d like to see her reaction to that? I have a feeling she would take him down in spectacular fashion.
“I only suggested he try something tougher than these entry hikes one day,” he explains. “He might think about pushing himself with the kind of challenges Scott and I have been doing.”
Mitchell looks at each of us in turn, confusion swirling in his eyes. “I guess I missed something. Why does he need the suggestion? Grant’s summited half the mountains in this country.”
In the silence his bombshell leaves behind, a bead of sweat trails down the center of my back. A chipmunk chitters somewhere close by. Everyone’s eyes are glued to me.
Lila spins slowly to stare up at me.
“It’s not half,” I say.
Her eyebrows tick up, telling me the clarification didn’t help anything.
“He’s got more mountain certifications than I do, and I’m no slouch out here.” Mitchell continues on, oblivious to the way the others are goggling at me. “Didn’t you just climb Mount Whitney?”
“Last year. How do you know that?”
“Highest peak in the continental U.S. That’s impressive.” He glances around at us again. “I don’t internet stalk our clients—it’s a total fluke. I get magazines and newsletters from trail organizations around the country. Just part of the job. Your family was featured in one a while back. The name rang a bell when you signed up, so I dug around a little bit, and there you were.”
“You were featured in a magazine?” Scott seems to view me more favorably all of a sudden, even though this tidbit means nothing. We could have been profiled as the laziest family in America, for all he knows.
“His family owns a chain of specialty outdoors stores in Texas.” Mitchell’s apparently become my one-man PR team, and is attacking his job like he wants a promotion. “The whole family’s big on extreme sports. You could probably do this little hike with us in your sleep, couldn’t you?”
I shake my head, ready for this Q&A to end. “You’ve put together a great hike. I appreciate everything you’re doing for us.”
“That’s a relief. I’d hate to think I could be replaced by that alpaca Lila wants.” Mitchell laughs and nods up the trail. “The view point’s not far now.”
He strides away, leaving me to face my bewildered companions.
Brian looks me up and down, his appraisal feeling just as accusatory as it did before he knew about my summits. “I guess you’re doing okay out here, after all.”
“Maybe we should be asking you for advice,” Scott adds like he’s ribbing an old pal .
Awkwardness hangs in the air, and they’re quick to get moving behind Mitchell.
I stare at my hiking boots five whole seconds before I meet Lila’s eyes. Her mouth forms a perfect pert frown. Probably not the best time for me to stare at her lips, but…I do anyway.
“You really climb mountains and stuff?”
“Yes.”
“What was all that you said about being an amateur outdoorsman?”
I shrug. “There’s always more to learn.”
She gives me a full-body eye roll, shoulders slumping, a sigh heaving from her lips. “Right.”
In a field that can get dangerous quickly, thinking you already know everything can be a deadly mistake. Not that my reasoning was so altruistic. I hadn’t liked the look on Lila’s face when they called out her inexperience this morning. Her smile had turned brittle, like she’d expected them to say something even worse. I’d wanted to make it better.
No way am I going to admit all that, though.
“I wasn’t trying to deceive anyone. I just don’t lead conversations with my accomplishments.” I guarantee she wouldn’t have liked that start any more.
“I guess that’s something,” she mutters. She turns to go but stops to narrow her eyes at me again. “That mountain Scott said they did—have you climbed it?”
I only hesitate for a second. Downplaying it now feels like a bad move. “Yes.”
“Was it as life-changing as he says?”
That day on Gray’s Peak in Colorado comes back to me, along with the views, the exertion, the thrill of accomplishment. “Yes. But I was in high school at the time.”
She freezes, eyes widening. Then she laughs and starts walking the trail again. “Scott had better call 911 to see about that burn.”
Even when she’s irritated with me, her laughter pings around inside my chest like lightning in a bottle.
She exhales a stuttering breath that’s probably half exasperation, half actual exhaustion. “But ugh, all that stuff I said about us being morons on the trail together like we’re newbie besties.”
“I’ll still be newbie besties with you.”
My earnest offer doesn’t land as well as I’d hoped. She fires an unimpressed glare at me as she stomps away.
Looks like I’m doing a great job following Rhett’s advice whether I mean to or not.