35. Chapter 35
Chapter thirty-five
Lucy
F or the next few hours, Jonathan and Lucy labored their way around trees, dense brush, and boulders. Stopping only to drink water and take bites of their dwindling food supply, the two continued the hurried march in relative silence. Naturally, the lack of conversation allowed Lucy’s thoughts to ricochet inside her head at the same breakneck pace they maintained during their descent. Thoughts of returning to Seattle and going back to work left a lingering dread with each logistical consideration. Besides Todd, whom she loved, and her job, which she didn’t love but needed in order to feed herself, there was nothing drawing her home.
Home .
Could she even call it that?
The last few days had been full of excitement and color and intensity. Leaving was a difficult pill to swallow. Even with the landslide and the stranding, meeting and connecting with Jonathan made every moment worth the struggle. He brought out a vivid, life-altering awakening in her when she hadn’t even realized she’d been asleep. The idea of receding back into her bleak, gray life was difficult to reconcile.
No.
She didn’t belong in Seattle. Deep down, she’d known that for a long time. Lucy wasn’t sure where she was meant to land, but it wasn’t back in the loud, bustling city where she kept her head down and stayed out of everyone’s way.
She wanted to belong with Jonathan .
A substantial part of her—the romantic in her—whispered that maybe he wanted the same thing. Unfortunately, the logical corner of her brain was deafening, stomping on those quiet murmurs of hope for new love. But if he felt the same way, all she would need from him was reassurance, and she’d happily skip away from the Emerald City and into her own little slice of Bavarian heaven. It would be worth giving their connection a chance to become something. Worth the risk.
But would it be for him? Did he even want something serious again after being married and becoming a widower? Was he over his wife? Something nagged at the back of her mind regarding Cynthia and the rafting trip. Jonathan had said it was his fault, but that couldn’t be true.
Lucy had to find out if he was hung up on Cynthia before she humiliated herself into thinking otherwise. She had to know more.
I might regret this . . .
“Can I ask you something?”
Jonathan almost jumped as Lucy broke the silence but quickly released a disarmed chuckle. He dropped back a few strides so they walked side by side. “Anything. What do you want to know?” he asked gamely as they continued through the woods.
“You said your wife, Cynthia, died in a river rafting accident.” She glanced over in apprehension. A scowl replaced the charming smile on his lips. Lucy bravely pressed onward, even if it was to her doom. “But when you said it, you sounded like . . . like you didn’t . . . um . . . what I mean is—”
“Spit it out,” he said, stopping abruptly and facing her.
“It sounded like . . . maybe . . . that wasn’t the whole story. I don’t know what I’m saying, but all I know is I feel like you left out something.”
Like the fact that you’re still in love with and/or stuck on your deceased wife, for example.
Jonathan looked up at the sky, preoccupied with the shifting clouds looming gray and fat with water.
Lucy lost her courage. “Never mind. It’s not my business, and clearly, you don’t want to talk about it. I am sorry for sticking my nose where—”
“No. It’s fine. I can talk about it.” Jonathan shrugged and then cleared his throat. “As I’d said, it was four years ago on a training day to prep newer guides for river runs. What I hadn’t mentioned, to you or anyone really, was that we’d been fighting earlier that morning.”
“About what?” Lucy cursed her curiosity and added that question to the growing pile of things that weren’t her business.
He paused, jaw clenching as he stared her down. “Kids. Starting a family.” He shrugged and let go of a big sigh. “It was a common argument for us. I was ready for the next step in our marriage, and she wasn’t. My parents were the best I could have hoped for and loved us so much. If I could’ve captured at least a fraction of that joy for my marriage—my family—I would have been content.”
“You weren’t happy?”
“There were times when I was.” Jonathan reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. “Cynthia and I had fun. We had a solid group of friends. Owned a successful guiding business and a home on some property. It was enough for her.”
“But not for you?”
Shaking his head, Jonathan said, “No. At one point in time, I decided to let the whole kid thing go. That maybe being a dad wasn’t in the cards for me. Maybe I could be happy being her husband and an uncle to any nieces or nephews that came along. But it felt . . .”
“Like settling?” Lucy’s thoughts drifted to Brodan. She cringed at the thought of starting a family with her ex. They weren’t the right fit. Obviously, their priorities hadn’t matched, and she never really felt like she could trust him. Some people feel trustworthy to their core; Jonathan, for example, fit into that box. She hadn’t even known him for four whole days but would be willing to put her life in his hands.
She had put her life in his hands.
Jonathan shrugged. “Something like that. We went through about six months where our marriage really struggled. She’d made herself scarce, and I even accused her of cheating when another guy’s name popped up on her phone.”
Lucy’s mouth popped open. “Was she?” Damn, she knew none of this was her business, but she couldn’t stop prying. The idea of anyone being unfaithful to someone like Jonathan was shocking. It made her agitated. Angry.
He gave a derisive snort. “No.” Jonathan sighed as he scrubbed a hand down his face. “It was an attorney. According to her, she was weighing all of her options.”
“She wanted a divorce?”
“She wasn’t sure. So, I dropped the family thing for a while, and things mellowed out. We got back to normal and, after a while, were happy again. Until . . .”
“Until you brought up kids again.”
He nodded, anguish in his amber eyes. “The morning she died.”
Lucy’s stomach dropped, and a knot formed in her throat. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but his bristly body language warned her off.
“Anyways, we hadn’t resolved anything, and I was still pretty upset about the argument, but we had to continue with the training. The start of the season was on its way, and I had at least six guides who’d never led a run.
“A lot like this year, that spring had been unseasonably rainy, and the river was more aggressive than usual. I led a raft with three newbies, one of my seasoned guides named Zac, and Cynthia. We missed a turn and were forced to go through the most dangerous part of the river. We only go through that section with the highly experienced because there’s a very strong likelihood of flipping. Cyn and I had different methods for tackling that particular run, and she was trying to tell me what she thought we should do, but I was the one leading. Which meant it was my call. And I did the exact opposite.”
Jonathan looked down at his hands as he wrung them together.
“What happened next?”
“We almost made it through. God, we nailed an extremely technical maneuver that we shouldn’t have been able to but we did.” He looked up, and the slightest glimmer of light sparkled off the subtle welling of tears. “Everyone started celebrating, naturally, I suppose, but . . . the danger wasn’t over. We came to a huge breaking wave that tossed the raft over like it was nothing.” Lucy flinched when he snapped his fingers. “Everyone went flying. Some of us were able to right the raft and crawl back in. Everyone was accounted for, except Cynthia.
“We paddled to the river bank. Eventually, we found her stuck in some debris and pulled her out. But it was too late.” A salty drop toppled over the edge and traveled down his cheek, wetting a trail through the dust and dirt that coated them. He lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.
Lucy’s heart pounded in her throat, thick and emotional. She closed the small space between them and placed her hand on his forearm, squeezing gently while he gathered himself. It had been four years, and this man was still haunted by his wife’s ghost. She couldn’t imagine experiencing the loss of someone, especially a spouse. And at such a young age.
Jonathan ran his hands through his hair and blew out a rough breath. “I haven’t been in the river since. I refuse to lead another rafting trip.” He laughed at himself and wiped his nose. “How pathetic is that? I own an adventure guiding company but refuse to get in a damn river.”
“It’s not pathetic. I think it’s pretty understandable. You lost someone precious to you. I get why you wouldn’t want to be reminded of that day, of what you lost, by putting yourself back into that same environment. I’ve never been there myself, but I assume getting over the loss of someone you love takes a long time. You should cut yourself a little slack.”
“I can’t cut myself slack.”
“Why?”
“I just can’t.”
“But . . . why ?”
“Because it’s my fault she is dead! Mine.” His words peppered out in broken agitation, volume increasing with each syllable. “I didn’t listen to her. But I knew, I knew she was right. I knew we should have veered left; it would have been safer. But I, like a raging jackass, did the opposite. And why? Because I was mad at her? I let that anger cloud my judgment, and because of my decision, someone died. She counted on me—her husband —to keep her safe, and I let her down.” His eyes were frenzied. The usual warmth of golden brown turned dark and dull as guilt and torment swirled through them.
Lucy wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. Her entire chest collapsed in on itself, his agony nearly breaking her. It wasn’t that he was still hanging on to the memory of his wife. He was hanging onto the death of his wife. And he had convinced himself that he was the one responsible. Carrying around that level of guilt had the power to destroy a person. It was amazing that he was willing to guide at all.
Jonathan curled his arms around Lucy’s shoulders and settled his face onto her messy bun. She refused to rush him. Hurrying wouldn’t help. As much as she wanted to get back to town, he needed to feel and process the anguish more. Emotions and trauma never stay buried.
Then, something sparked in her mind. Lucy pulled back and looked up at her beautiful, baggage-wielding guide. “Is that why you were so apprehensive to take me out on this trip solo?”
He blinked once. Twice. Nodded. “Yes. Janet only puts me with larger groups. Straightforward trips that tend to go off without a hitch. I’ve never openly talked with her about it, but she seems to know that I struggle with anything else. I haven’t guided solo since before . . .” He shook his head, banishing an intrusive thought. “I planned for two, and having you show up on your own flashed me back. It made me run through all the worst-case scenarios in my head, so instead of working it out logically, I tried to send you packing.”
She wanted to stay there and hold him. This man, strong and masculine, was broken. He didn’t trust himself. He was unwilling to allow anyone to get close enough to rely on him.
“Jonathan. I’m sorry that you experienced what you did. But you aren’t responsible for what happened. And, like it or not, I’m relying on you out here. But you’re relying on me too. You and I . . . we’re a team, and we will get through this together. Survive together. I trust you, and I hope you trust me too.”
He gave her a slight smile. “We’ll get through this together.”
“Good.” She nodded as Jonathan started to turn back around and carry on, but first she stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It sounds like something you carry daily but don’t ever talk about.”
He gave a mirthless laugh. “You would be right.”
“So, is the whole ‘not being responsible for others’ thing the reason you haven’t dated seriously in the last four years?”
Jonathan thought about that for a moment. “I suppose that’s a big part of it. But . . .” He paused, mulling over the idea as if he’d never taken the time to do so before. “But I guess the main reason is I hadn’t found a woman I wanted to date seriously.”
“That makes sense.” Lucy did her best to paste on a smile. Was she among those ill-suited women? Was their connection all because of the situation they found themselves in? Perhaps she was getting ahead of herself and all this could boil down to a passionate fling.
“You are still going to let me take you to dinner when we get back, right?” he asked, the charming grin back on his face yet tinted with weariness.
Later , she thought, I can worry about what everything means later. “Yes. Under one condition.”
“Name it.”
“I require a hot shower and some beauty rest in a real bed first so I don’t feel like such a troll.”
He chuckled, perusing her from head to toe. “You, sunshine, could never be described as a troll.”
“Considering how wrecked I probably look at this very moment, I take that as high praise.”
Jonathan leaned in for a brief kiss. But just as their lips parted, a fat raindrop fell from the sky and landed on Lucy’s forehead. Pulling apart, they looked up and groaned in unison.
“Shit.”