18. Chapter 18
Chapter eighteen
Jonathan
H unkered down in a squat, Jonathan tended to the fire with expert skill. The blaze was almost to the point of holding steady on its own. Feeding in a few pieces of kindling, he overheard Lucy rummaging around in her rinky-dink pop-up tent. Noisy mumbles, grunts, and curses were finally capped off by a contented sigh. She made far more noise than was necessary to change into dry clothes, and he had to bite his lip to keep from laughing at her struggle. If nothing else, at least the ruckus would ward off any wildlife that might be investigating the active campsite.
Even in the wake of being stranded by a freak landslide, the sensation of settling into camp provided comfort. Falling into the rhythm of fire, shelter, and food allowed his mind time to clear the mangled debris of thoughts. Something about roughing it out in the woods—these woods, specifically—was like a soothing balm on his nerves. And Jonathan needed to keep his wits about him over the next day or two.
Lucy was relying on him.
Anxiety prickled his skin. The situation would have been much more manageable if he’d been stuck out there alone. He would have camped for the night then bushwacked his way north to connect with another established trail. At top speed, he could make it to town before anyone knew something had gone awry.
But with another person, someone as out of practice as Lucy was, they were looking at two days . . . minimum. And that was if the rain held out.
Please let the rain hold out.
Jonathan craned his neck to look up at the early evening sky. Very soon, the ridge west of them would block out the direct sunlight. Fortunately, twilight would linger, offering a bit more time for him to set up his hammock and make dinner before a chilly darkness descended on their camp.
Satisfied with the state of the fire, Jonathan stood. His groan accompanied the pop and crack of joints voicing their complaints over being in a crouched position for so long. The twinge of pain in his lower back continued to protest. He massaged small circles just above the waist of his pants, reminding himself to use a little of that witch-doctory salve Frankie had mixed up for him on his griping muscles before turning in.
Lucy unzipped her tent door, drawing Jonathon’s attention from hanging his hammock. She stepped out and into her flip-flops. As she bent over to zip up the tent, Jonathan watched her, appreciating what he saw, and ignored the niggling feeling of shame about ogling her ass. After all, she’d checked him out while he chopped kindling earlier. Turnabout was fair play. Where was the harm in enjoying the view, especially after the day they’d had?
As she stood and turned, a tentative smile played on her lips.
“Feel better?” Jonathan asked.
“Much.” Lucy nodded and approached the crackling flames. She briskly rubbed her hands together and held them out toward the fire. “It’s amazing what a dry set of clothes will do for you.”
“Agreed.” He watched her as she lingered near the fire. It wasn’t terribly cold yet, but she appeared snug in a pair of curve-hugging black joggers and a lilac hoodie. Her hair, which she had brushed out, was pulled back into a wavy ponytail. She looked adorable .
Clearing his throat, Jonathan secured the last few ties on the hammock’s built-in rain fly and headed back toward his pack. He removed their dinner and three beers. After nestling the cans into a shallow part of the stream that encircled camp, he returned to the fire and tossed the foil packets of kielbasa, potatoes, and onions onto the surrounding rocks to cook.
Lucy sat on a small boulder beside him, carefully rubbing the foot she had propped on her opposite leg.
“The stream’s cold and feels great on aching feet. Dinner will be a few if you want to soak in the creek for a bit.” Jonathan pointed across the clearing with the spork he used to flip the packets. “The gravel in that section is perfect for wading.” The words were barely out of his mouth before Lucy bounded toward the water.
A shrill squeak escaped her as she stepped gingerly off the bank and into the gentle current. “You are a genius.” She threw back her head and hummed. “An absolute genius.”
“Don’t stay in for too long,” he grunted, forcefully ignoring the heat rising in his chest from her sounds of bliss. “It may not seem that cold, but the water’s maybe fifty-five degrees.”
“I’ll only be a couple minutes. Besides, whatever you’re cooking will lure me over real soon.”
Jonathan glanced over. Lucy wiggled her toes, her face the picture of euphoria: spearmint eyes glittering, lids at half mast, cheeky grin stretching her lips wide. All he could think was how resilient she was—the fact that her spirits could bounce back so quickly after everything they’d gone through was astounding. What she’d experienced in one day would have completely broken the average person. Others would have panicked, curled up in a ball and demanding to be airlifted out of the woods. But Lucy, tough as nails Lucy, was standing in a creek, soaking her toes, in a state of utter relaxation. She was a marvel. He considered himself lucky to have ended up with her on this trip.
What if I let something happen to her?
Jonathan’s mouth went sour, and a chill rippled up his spine. No, don’t do that. Keep calm. Keep focused. She’s counting on you.
The squelch of wet flip-flops approaching shook him free from his jumbled thoughts. With a contented sigh, Lucy sat on the boulder again and held her feet near the fire to dry. “Dinner smells heavenly.”
“Well, I hope you brought your appetite because I packed enough for three.”
“I’m plenty hungry, but what are you going to eat?” she teased.
Jonathan pulled the packets from the fire and tossed one on a blue enamel plate, which he passed to Lucy.
Tearing it open, she didn’t wait for the contents to cool before she dove in, moaning with each mouthful. Accidentally dropping her spork in the dirt at one point, she gave it a fleeting glance before continuing with her hands. With her last bite, he offered her more from the third packet. She nodded emphatically, cheeks filled with potatoes.
Jonathan couldn’t stop staring at Lucy as she ate. She was ravenous . . . and so was he, but it wasn’t the food that held his attention. Between her “yummy” noises and licking her fingers, he could barely contain his groan of arousal. He wanted nothing more than to pull her onto his lap, bury his hands into her hair, and—
“Are you all right?” Lucy asked when she finally looked up from destroying her meal, a flush of embarrassment staining her cheeks. “You look a little stressed out.”
“No, I uh.” He thought for a moment. “Bit my tongue a little. That’s all.”
“Oh, ouch. Sorry.” Lucy grimaced as she rose to clean up. “ Are you done?”
Jonathan nodded and handed over his also practically-licked-clean plate. She carried them and the dirty utensils over to the creek.
“I assume you have camping soap?”
“Yeah.” Jonathan walked over with a little green bottle. “I can handle the dishes. Go relax by the fire.”
“Nope, sorry. If you didn’t do the cooking, you’d better do the cleaning,” she cooed in a sing-song way that suggested the saying was a regular in her home growing up.
“Are you sure, ’cause I could—”
“Absolutely sure.” She gave him a look that said she meant it. “Besides, I like having some way to contribute.”
“You remember that you’re the one who hired me, though, right?”
“So, take it off my bill.” She waved a dismissive hand and returned to the plates.
“All right, fine. You wash, I’ll dry.” He snagged a small microfiber cloth from his bag and returned to her side. Piece by piece, they cleaned and dried. Lucy also took the opportunity to wash her face and dip her toes in the water one last time before settling in by the fire for the rest of the evening.
Twilight had come and gone. More stars than he could begin to count peppered the black sky as Jonathan handed a can of beer to Lucy and sat down a couple feet away. “I always bring a beer up for each hiker to celebrate on our first night. I had them cooling in the creek, so they’re decently chilled.” He opened the pop-top and took a swig. “And damn refreshing after a long hike.”
Lucy looked at the Rainier with approval. “A little vitamin R. Thank you.” She opened her can and clinked it against Jonathan’s.
They sat together in silence, drinking beer and staring at the fire.
“Mmm. That hits the spot,” she mumbled, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. “Do you wanna play I Never?”
“No.”
“Oh, come on. Why not?”
“Because I’m not fourteen, and this isn’t a slumber party.” Jonathan hoped his lack of eye contact and deadpan would get the point across.
“Ok, fine. I’ll drop it if you do me one favor.”
He was almost afraid to ask. “And that would be?”
“Tell me something about yourself.” She leaned in a little, wiggling her brows like she’d just requested something scandalous. “And make it personal.”
Jonathan looked over at Lucy trying to determine her intentions. Why did people always insist on sharing secrets around a campfire?
He confided in a select few people throughout his adult life, and even then, only when he couldn’t carry the burden alone. Zac and his best friend from college, Benji, were like the brothers he’d always wanted. On numerous occasions, they’d spilled their guts about familial pain points or shitty days. The only other person he trusted with his secrets and emotions was his sister, Frankie. They’d spent a lot of time talking about their dad while he was sick and leaned on each other after. When Cynthia passed, Frankie and Zac stepped up while Jonathan went catatonic. He’d been through big things with Zac, Benji, and Frankie. Life-altering experiences that proved he could trust them. Lucy appeared to be in that category now too after barely escaping the landslide earlier. They were in this predicament together, and while it didn’t quite warrant divulging deep dark secrets, a little something personal seemed reasonable.
“Fine.” He nodded and gazed back into the fire. “I never feel more at home than when I’m outside. I bought a little house on some property out in Plain a few years back. And my mom still lives in our family home, which is close enough to visit, and I see her often. But neither of those places really feels like home. They feel incomplete . . . Or I feel incomplete when I am there. I don’t know; it’s hard to explain.” Jonathan took a deep breath and glanced upward. “But when I am out here—out in the woods, on a trail, climbing a mountain, walking through a meadow, I feel . . . whole. Like nothing is missing and I’m enough.” He glanced over at Lucy, who was studying him with all the seriousness in the world. “I’m not sure that makes any sense.”
“No, it does. It makes perfect sense.” She gave an encouraging nod. “I live in Seattle, but I don’t belong there, and I don't think the city itself doesn’t want me there. I grew up in rural Oregon. The woods and wide-open space feel more comforting and make a hell of a lot more sense than skyscrapers and bumper-to-bumper traffic.”
Jonathan took in her wistful expression. In the dark, with the firelight dancing across her face and shimmering in her hair, her beauty was magnified. He hadn’t been struck like this by another woman in the better part of a decade. Everything about her tugged at something inside him he’d long thought dead. Something possessive.
Like he wanted to make her his.
Jonathan shook his head. No. Don’t get attached. Life gets too real, too risky, when someone depends on you.
Clearing his throat, he said, “It seems like you get it. I feel complete out here. Well, everywhere except rivers.”
“Rivers?” Lucy asked, perplexed. “Why not rivers?”
He shrugged, took another swig of beer, and silently cursed himself. He wished he hadn’t mentioned it, but it slipped out before he could think .
“No, really. You can’t just say that and give no explanation.” Lucy turned fully toward him and wrapped her hands around her knees. She leaned in. “Is it because you can’t swim? Is it fish fear? Honestly, I’d freak out a little if a fish nibbled on my toes too. But you run a guiding company, one that hosts white water rafting. How could you possibly not love being out on a river—”
“Because that’s how my wife died,” he snapped, instantly regretting his tone.
“Oh.” Lucy turned back to the fire and studied the blazing logs. “Sorry I pushed.”
He felt like a tool, especially since he’d been the one to bring it up. Of course she was going to ask for clarification. “No, I’m sorry for being so gruff. You were just curious.”
Silence stretched out awkwardly. The blackness of night crowded around the camp; the only thing keeping it at bay was the crackle of the fire. It was getting late, and they had a big day ahead of them. Sleep was crucial, and Jonathan was more exhausted than he had been in a very long time. “I think we should turn in,” he suggested.
Lucy looked up at Jonathan as he stood and nodded. She rose to her feet beside him, and they retired for the night.