Chapter 2
Two
You decided his life was more important than yours.
Nine words. That’s all it took to rip him wide open.
The suspicion had haunted the edges of every rescue for five years, but Teague had never let it form into words. Not until Eden spoke.
Ever since Chip’s accident, he’d been convincing himself that his recklessness was courage.
That throwing himself off cliffs and into collapsing mines made him a hero.
That if he saved enough people, moved fast enough, reached far enough—maybe he could outrun the ghost that followed him into every rescue.
Funny thing about almost dying though. It never stuck.
Teague had walked away from avalanches, cave-ins, flash floods. Had watched death reach for him and miss. But God seemed determined to keep him breathing no matter how hard he pushed.
Chip hadn’t been so lucky.
And now Eden—with her sharp eyes and sharper words—had seen right through him.
Teague stood at the conference-room window, watching Superintendent Virgil disappear into the office one building over.
The afternoon sun beat through the glass.
Behind him, the other rangers sat in stunned silence—the wreckage of Virgil’s announcement scattered across the table in trail-closure maps and reassignment forms.
Less than seventy-two hours. That’s all they had before the Grand Canyon’s North Rim shut down completely.
Anya broke first. “This is insane. We’ve handled treasure hunters before.”
“Not like this.” Noah shifted in his seat, one hand pressed to his side where the knife wound was still healing.
Teague’s boss looked exhausted—six-foot-four and hunched as if the weight of the canyon had finally gotten to him.
“Ever since that kid went on the news talking about the Roosevelt gold, we’ve had three hundred percent more incidents. Search and rescue is running on fumes.”
“Three rescues last week alone,” Liam added. “Two of them not far from where the cave entrance had been. Even though we’ve released statements that the second chest is now buried under fifty thousand tons of rock.”
Jake, a guy in his mid-thirties who worked at the welcome center, laughed bitterly.
“But that still leaves the third and final chest. Let’s face it, with two million dollars in gold bars waiting to be discovered, they won’t stop.
” He shoved back from the table. “I’ve spent the last three years building the interpretive program at the welcome center.
Now I’ll be reassigned to a new park and have to start over because people don’t think park rules apply to them if there’s treasure involved. ”
The conference-room door opened. Eden slipped back in, pale-blonde ponytail swinging, and leaned against the wall with her arms crossed. Her blue eyes found Teague’s immediately.
He looked away first. His gaze landed briefly on Noah’s hunched posture, Jake’s clenched jaw, Liam’s thousand-yard stare.
Eden’s gaze swept the room. “So what’s the plan?”
Silence.
If it all shut down, would she leave? There had to be a way to stop this.
Teague pushed away from the window. “We fight it.”
Eden’s eyebrow arched. “Fight a federally sanctioned shutdown. That’s your plan.”
“I didn’t say it was a good plan.” He moved toward the table, grabbing a trail map and spreading it flat. “Look, Virgil said they’re only closing the trails at the South Rim. Maybe we could do that here. That would free all the backcountry rangers to keep a better watch for treasure hunters.”
“You and I both know there’s access to the canyon other than the marked trails at both rims.” Eden stared off, unfocused. “Maybe Virgil is right.”
Close.
The word hung in the air between them.
Noah cleared his throat. “She’s got a point, Teague.
I’ve been saying for a month that we need to shut down until we find all the gold.
No one listened.” He touched his side gingerly.
“I got a knife for my trouble. You almost got crushed. Then today…” He stared at his hands a moment and shook his head, then met Teague’s gaze once more. “Maybe this closure is the smart call.”
“Smart for who?” Teague looked around the room. “Jake loses his job at the welcome center. Anya at the lodge. Our friends are being reassigned across the country.” He turned back to Eden. “You really want to walk away from this place?”
Something shifted in her expression. Softened, just barely. “What I want doesn’t matter. We’ve had too many close calls. I’d rather not wait until one of us is dead.”
“A bit dramatic.”
“Realistic.” She held his gaze. “There’s a difference, Hamilton. Maybe someday you’ll learn it.”
Liam stood, his chair scraping back. “I need some air. And to call Nimue.” He paused at the door. “Teague, I know you want to fix this. But maybe Eden’s right. Maybe some things can’t be fixed by throwing yourself at them.”
“That’s not—” Teague started.
But Liam was already gone.
Teague’s phone buzzed. And again. And again.
Anya nodded toward his pocket. “Someone really wants to reach you.”
He pulled out the phone. The name on the screen made his stomach drop.
Mom.
She never called during work hours. “I need to take this.”
He stepped into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind him. “Mom? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.” Her voice was gentle. Careful. The way it always got when she was about to bring up Chip. “Your father and I are planning a hike to Half Dome next month. For the fifth anniversary.”
Five years. Had it really been that long?
“September sixth,” she continued. “We thought you might want to join us. No pressure. We just…we wanted you to know.”
Teague leaned against the wall. Closed his eyes. Bad idea—the images sharpened immediately. Chip’s laugh echoing off granite. His boot slipping on loose gravel. Eyes going wide with surprise, then fear. The split second when Teague should have moved but didn’t.
Half a second too slow. Fingers brushing Chip’s palm. The warmth of his brother’s skin.
Teague’s grip wouldn’t close in time.
“Teague?”
“I’ll try to be there.” The words came out hollow. “I can’t promise, but I’ll try.”
“How are you doing, sweetheart? Really?”
“I’m fine.”
“Teague Arthur Hamilton.”
He almost smiled. Almost. “It’s been a rough day. But I’m handling it. I took a risk and…someone isn’t happy. But I saved a kid, so it was worth it.”
His mother’s deep sigh filled the line. “Letting yourself get killed won’t bring him back, T.”
“I know. I’m being careful.” But was he?
They said their goodbyes. Teague lowered the phone and stared at the blank screen, his reflection staring back—fatigue in his eyes, jaw tight.
The conference-room door opened. He expected Liam, maybe Noah.
It was Eden.
She stopped a few feet away, arms still crossed, but her posture had lost some of its sharp edges. “You okay?”
“Peachy.”
“Liar.” But she said it gently. “Family stuff?”
“Something like that.”
She was quiet for a moment. Then, “Look, about what I said earlier.”
“You weren’t wrong.”
Her eyebrows rose. “That might be the first time you’ve ever admitted I was right about anything.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.” He pushed off the wall. “I know I take risks. I know it drives everyone crazy. But if I don’t—” He stopped. Shook his head.
“If you don’t what?”
If I stop moving, I’ll remember that I’m still here and Chip isn’t.
“Never mind.”
Eden studied him for a long moment. Her light-blue eyes saw too much—always had. “You know what your problem is, Hamilton?”
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”
“You think you’re invincible. Or worse—you think you should be.” She stepped closer. Close enough that he caught the faint scent of sunscreen and vanilla. “You throw yourself into danger like you’ve got something to prove. Like saving enough people will somehow balance some cosmic equation.”
His throat tightened. “And what if it does?”
“It won’t.” Her voice softened. “That’s not how any of this works.”
For a moment, neither of them moved. The hallway was quiet except for the distant hum of the air-conditioning.
“So what do I do?” The question came out rougher than he intended. More honest than he meant it to be.
Eden’s expression flickered. For a second, he thought she might actually answer. Might say something real, something that could crack through the walls they’d both built.
Then footsteps sounded behind her.
“Eden.” Xander stopped at the end of the hallway, his earlier lightheartedness with Teague vanishing as he registered her distress. “You okay?”
Eden stepped back. The moment—whatever it had been—shattered like glass.
“I’m fine.” She gave Teague one last look—unreadable, complicated—then turned toward Xander with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just checking on our resident daredevil.”
Xander’s gaze darted to Teague. Assessing. “Hamilton.”
“Sullivan.” Teague kept his voice neutral. “Heard you were the number-one rescue guy at Zion last year.”
“Zion’s a different beast than the canyon.” Xander shrugged, but there was satisfaction in his eyes. “Less chaos. More protocol.”
“Sounds boring. But hey, maybe you can transfer back.”
Eden shot him a warning look. “Teague.”
“What? I’m being friendly.” He spread his hands. “Protocol is great. Love protocol. Big fan.”
Xander’s jaw tightened, but he let it go. “Eden, Virgil said to grab a bite to eat at the lodge, then they’ll fly me back to the South Rim. Anyway, are you ready to grab dinner?”
“Sure.” She glanced back at Teague, something shadowing her expression—regret, maybe, or warning. “Try not to do anything stupid before morning, Hamilton.”
“No promises, Garrison.”
She shook her head, but he caught the ghost of a smile before she turned away.
She and Xander walked down the corridor together, shoulders almost touching, voices low.
The door behind him opened again, filling his space with voices from the conference room.
He glanced back as Liam let the door swing shut again.
Teague’s gaze returned to Xander and Eden, who were just disappearing from view.