Chapter Twenty-Nine
Evan
I held her for what felt like a grateful eternity.
Her breath was still coming fast, her cheeks flushed in the moonlight.
I didn’t trust my voice yet. My throat felt tight.
She could have died on this mountain, same as her mother, and I’d have never been able to forgive myself for not being with her.
The guilt would have eroded whatever good there was in me.
As I held Nora tighter, I found fresh sympathy for Cody Burke. He was bitter and withdrawn, but would I be any different if the mountain had returned Nora to me in a casket?
I pulled out my satellite phone, the screen’s blue glow a harsh intrusion on the silver night. I texted the coordinates along with: Found Nora. She’s fine. Untouchable twisted right foreleg, but it’s wrapped. Leading down slowly.
Tim responded: Understood. Do you require any assistance?
“Nora, are you okay walking back? If not, we could be retrieved via helicopter. We just need to find a clearing.”
Nora shook her head against my chest. “Untouchable didn’t leave my mother’s side. I won’t leave hers. We don’t have too much left to go, do we?”
“My guess is about an hour.”
“Tell them to meet us at the trailhead with a trailer.”
I did. After I sent the message another came in. “Your father wants to speak to you.”
Nora took the phone and answered the call. “I’m okay, Dad,” she said swiftly.
“Stay where you are. I’m coming to you,” Cody commanded.
“It doesn’t make sense to. The trail is narrow and I’ve made it most of the way back.” Nora’s voice was thick with emotion. “But you’ll see me in an hour.”
The silence that followed was ripe with all the things her father was holding back from saying, but Nora handled it well. “Dad, Evan is here and he has lanterns. We’ll be back before you know it. I’m okay.”
Her father’s voice bit through the night. “Evan?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Thank you.” With that, the call ended.
I briefly kissed Nora’s forehead then stepped back, forcing my attention to return to the task at hand.
I crouched again beside Untouchable and ran my fingers over Nora’s wrap, checking the tension.
The knot was tight, the padding perfectly even.
“Solid,” I said, straightening. “You saved her a lot of pain tonight, Nora.”
She shrugged one shoulder, a quick, dismissive gesture. “Had to.”
Of course she did. Because that was Nora. She didn’t wait for permission to be brave; she just was.
I pulled the pack from Sunny’s saddlebag—Vet wrap, bute, and a sedative just in case. I’d prepared for the worst, even while praying for the best. I handed Nora the roll of wrap, relieved that Nora wasn’t hurt. “We should reinforce it before we head down.”
She took the wrap without hesitation. I watched her hands—capable and steady, even after the trauma of the night. She layered the wrap over her own strips with quick, practiced movements. Untouchable shifted her weight, testing the support, and blew out a long, vibrating breath of approval.
I walked on Untouchable’s off side using the lantern to illuminate our way.
Nora stayed on her other side, her hand resting lightly on the mare’s neck.
Sunny followed behind. We moved slowly. Carefully.
The trail narrowed, roots and rocks forcing us into a single file, but the moment it widened, we drifted back together.
Shoulder to shoulder. It felt as natural as breathing.
For a long stretch, neither of us spoke.
There was only the rhythmic thud of hooves, the quiet nickers passing between Sunny and Untouchable, and the whisper of the wind through the pines.
I could feel Nora glancing at me—quick, sideways looks that told me she was waiting for me to ask the question that had been burning in my mind since I found her.
“Why did you come up here?” I asked, my voice low to keep from spooking the horses. “What made you take Untouchable that far? Alone. In the dark.”
She didn’t answer right away. Her fingers moved in slow circles against the mare’s coat. When she finally spoke, her words were measured. “It wasn’t dark when I left and I needed to see someone.”
I waited.
“Evie.”
The name landed like a stone dropped into a deep, still well. “Why?”
Nora’s eyes darkened. “She knew my mother.”
“And you’re missing her.”
“More than I could ever express.”
I swallowed hard. “Did seeing Evie help?”
Nora tilted her head, her gaze drifting toward the high ridges.
“She’s a woman who wants nothing to do with the rest of the world.
” She scratched Untouchable’s mane. “It’s not a life I could imagine for myself, but she didn’t seem lonely.
” She looked at me then, her eyes searching mine.
“The tea she gave me reminded me of her tonics. It tasted like home.”
Only someone who’d grown up in Firebrook Valley would understand. Evie wasn’t physically in town, but her influence was woven through the fabric of it.
“So,” I said slowly. “She’s not an oracle.”
“Not really.”
“And not a healer?”
Nora smiled then. “Is it possible to be neither and both at the same time?”
“Anything is possible.” I studied her face in the shifting moonlight, loving Nora’s acceptance of Evie. She didn’t require the myth. She could appreciate Evie as she was. It was the same quiet grace Nora gave everyone. Even me. Even when I didn’t deserve it.
I reached across Untouchable’s back and brushed my knuckles against Nora’s arm. Her skin was covered, but the connection was electric. “You scared the shit out of all of us.”
“I know and I’m sorry,” she said simply. “But I had to understand why my mother went to see her.”
“And now you do?”
Nora nodded. “She listens.”
“That’s it?”
“Sometimes that’s enough.”
Her words landed heavy because listening was something I hadn’t done well—especially when it came to Nora. We walked another dozen steps. The trail dipped sharply, forcing us closer together to steady the mare. Our shoulders brushed and stayed that way.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly.
She shot me a look but said nothing.
I continued, “Recently, I’ve come to some uncomfortable realizations about myself.
When things get emotionally difficult, I handle it by taking action.
Sometimes that has involved leaving. Sometimes setting hard boundaries with my family.
But what I struggle with is sitting in a difficult place and asking others how they feel before I try to fix it. ”
“If we’re apologizing for who we are, I should tell you that when things get emotionally difficult, I tend to shut down and pretend everything is okay. I’d like to blame you for what happened in New York, but I played a role in that disaster.”
We continued to walk on, and I held back my initial response which would have been to tell her she was perfect exactly as she was. She wasn’t looking for me to fix this. She wanted to be heard. “What a pair we are. You’re stronger than you think and I’m realizing I might not have all the answers.”
“Mabel says you can’t get one side of a coin without the other and I’m beginning to see how right that is. I want things to be perfect, so when they’re not, I don’t handle that well.”
I frowned at that. “And when it comes to my family, if I feel like a situation can’t be fixed, I remove myself from it.”
“That actually sounds healthy.”
“Is it? Or does it mean I’m not putting in enough effort to truly understand what’s going on?”
“Like with us.”
“Yes. Like with us.”
“If I’d been more honest about how I felt—”
“If I’d let myself see how strong you are—”
We both stopped and laughed.
“I don’t feel strong,” she whispered.
I stopped walking. Untouchable halted between us, patient and steady.
I stepped around the mare, closing the distance until I was framing Nora’s face again with gentle hands.
“Then you’ll have to start seeing yourself through my eyes,” I said quietly.
“I know what you did for Brady at that frat house. And a weaker person would have left Untouchable tied to a tree and prioritized their own survival. You step up when things get hard.”
Her hands came up to my chest, her fingers curling into my jacket. “And you always show up when I need you.”
“And I always will,” I agreed, my voice dropping to a low vow.
I kissed her then. Slow. Deep. This wasn’t the desperate, frantic claim from before. This was a promise. A covenant. She melted into me, her body pressing close enough that I could feel the steady, matching rhythm of our hearts.
When we finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against my shoulder. “Evan . . .”
“Yeah?”
“My father hates your family.”
I pressed a kiss into her hair, breathing her in. “I know.”
“And it’s getting worse.” She sighed. “I don’t know how to change that.”
“We’ll figure it out together.”
“Together,” she echoed in a whisper.
It was tempting to look back at all I’d done wrong, but that wouldn’t get us home and it wasn’t the foundation I wanted our future built on, so I met her gaze and said the word again, this time as a vow. “Together.”
We started walking again, the silence between us shifting into something softer, easier.
Finally, the trail widened into a clearing where the moonlight pooled like spilled silver across the earth.
The storm that had felt like it was inevitable had passed overhead.
A trailer’s flashers blinked in the distance. Help was waiting.
I reached out and squeezed Nora’s hand. “Ready?”
She squeezed back, her grip firm and certain. “Ready.”
We walked the last stretch together, our horses trailing behind us, the moonlight at our backs. The future was still a mess, but I wasn’t running from it.
I was staying.
The mountain hadn’t taken Nora from me, nor had it given her to me.
Instead, it revealed a path through the miscommunications and confusion.
And I knew that whatever the future held for us, by her side was where I would be.