Chapter Twenty
Aspen’s focus was locked in on the small creek ahead of her, not once turning to look back at Mo.
This task was turning out to be far harder for her than she initially thought, and none of it had to do with the added weight of Mo’s pack.
She had made her decision, sitting there against the rock while Mo talked to Annie.
Whether or not she could keep to it was a whole other task.
“Even with a couple of snags,” Mo began behind her. “This has been a wonderful trip. It’s a bummer we can’t hike back out the way we came in. I kind of wanted to spend more time under the trees.”
Aspen internally agreed but kept quiet. She hoped the creek would break into the access road at any moment, freeing her from the guilt that was far heavier than both the packs combined.
“Is Betty going to meet us at the end of this?”
“No, at an access road at the end.”
“Oh, okay,” Mo mumbled, her voice sounding concerned. “Are you sure I can’t carry—”
“Nope,” Aspen cut her off, crossing over a few rocks to walk along the opposite bank where the brush wasn’t as overgrown. “Just watch your footing. This might be a small creek in comparison to Redwood Creek, but wet rocks are slippery rocks.”
“Okay.” Mo’s voice was even smaller now.
Aspen adjusted the front pack in response, the weight taking a toll on her knees.
She pulled it off in one motion, deciding to sling it over one arm to cool herself down.
She expected a protest from Mo, but her companion kept quiet, moving to walk in front of her now.
Aspen watched the woman closely, noticing that while she held her hurt arm rather gingerly, her body seemed to drag. Like something worse was ailing her.
It took everything in Aspen not to ask.
“The creek is getting smaller,” Mo commented, turning to catch a peek at Aspen. Aspen flipped her eyes to the ground, tightening her grip on Mo’s pack. “I assume that means it’s about to end.”
Aspen lifted up her free arm, checking the time.
12:34 p.m. stared back at her. Betty was either waiting for them or was traversing her truck over the dirt access road now.
She then turned to look at the creek, which, if she was being generous, she would now call a brook.
Her eyes followed its length, ending at a clearing past a huddle of firs.
That’s when she caught the glimpse of Betty’s ranger truck, relief mixing with her guilt.
“Betty’s up ahead.” Aspen trotted up next to Mo and pointed. “You can finally go to the hospital down in Eureka.”
“Are you coming with me?” Mo asked, slowing her pace.
Aspen could feel her stare. The meaning behind her question was threefold. Before she could answer, she heard the slam of the truck door and the crackle of a satellite phone. “Hi, Betty!”
“Aspen,” Betty greeted, stomping with a purpose toward the women. She reached for Mo’s pack. “Let me get that in the truck.”
“Thanks. Sorry again for the rescue call,” Aspen said, moving to take off her own pack.
“No need,” Betty said. “How you feeling, sport?”
Aspen knew she was talking to Mo, so she turned to finish removing her pack before depositing it into the back of the vehicle as well.
“My ego might be more bruised than my shoulder,” Mo responded, her voice taking on a familiar lilt, something Aspen hadn’t heard in days. “But, yeah, I can’t really put any weight on it.”
“That’s concerning,” Betty gruffed, stepping toward Mo. “Immaculate sling, Aspen.”
“Thanks.” Aspen crossed by the women to sit in the truck. She reached forward and unlaced her boots, groaning in pleasure as she kicked them off her feet. “Oh, I needed that.”
“I bet,” Mo said before reaching down to grab the pair with her good hand, placing them on the floorboard in front of the passenger seat. Her body was so close to Aspen, it made her shiver slightly. “Here.”
Before Aspen could reply, Mo had moved away. Betty opened the back door of the truck, ushering Mo inside.
“Let’s get on the road. You gonna need a hospital?”
“Uh, I don’t think so. Aspen has done enough.”
Aspen felt the full sting of that, so she adjusted her body fully inside the truck and slammed the door behind herself.
She focused on buckling herself in, the air thick with the awkwardness she had been incubating since before the phone call.
Betty climbed in and started the truck, flinging it into reverse in her usual abrupt way.
“Y’all get the wind phone installed?”
The question hung in the air as the truck maneuvered back onto the access road, rumbling down toward the highway.
“Yeah,” Mo said. “On a beautiful maple. It was nestled between a few redwoods, right off the bank.”
“Coordinates?” Betty directed toward Aspen.
“I have them.”
“All right. Well, let’s get you super happy people back to civilization.”
The rest of the drive was mostly silent, save for the sound of the truck’s tires sliding across the gravel road.
It didn’t take too long before they were back on Route 101, right past Big Lagoon Bridge.
Aspen kept her eyes on her hands, mentally going over exactly what her final words would be to Mo.
“The bar for dinner, I assume?” Betty asked, her voice taking on an unusual softness.
“I would—” Mo began.
“No, let’s drop Mo off at her car. She’s gonna need a shower before she goes into town,” Aspen steamrolled, doing her best to keep her voice firm.
Betty seemed to wait for a rebuttal from Mo, which never manifested. “And you?”
“My cabin.”
“Affirmative.” Betty sighed, the speed of the truck seeming to pick up. “It’s up past the trailhead, correct?”
“Yes.”
“All right, then you’re first, Mo.”
The truck zipped through Orick, passing by the bar.
Aspen kept her eyes down on her hands, praying that Mo would just get out and go to her Subaru without protest. It would be easier that way.
Betty swung the truck onto another gravel road, moving it down and toward the locked ranger gate.
When she placed the truck into park and moved to get out, Mo flung her door open and removed her seat belt.
“I’ll walk to it.”
“I still have to unlock it.”
“Aspen.” Mo’s voice was small but firm. “Can I talk to you?”
Aspen’s heart skipped a beat.
“I’ll need help with my bag and—”
“Yeah…” Aspen faltered, removing her own belt and stepping into her untied boots before hopping out. “You can unlock the gate and move it, Betty. I’ll help her to her car.”
Betty nodded, so Aspen moved past Mo, stepping on the rear tire to reach Mo’s pack.
Once it was hurled over her right shoulder, she began moving down the trail toward the Outback, praying she would trip over her laces.
Maybe the fall would knock her out, removing her from having to have this painful conversation.
“Aspen?” Mo asked from behind her. “I’m really confused about what’s going on here.”
“What do you mean?” Aspen replied as nonchalantly as she could, keeping her focus on the road. “We did it. We hung the phone.”
“With all due respect, we did a lot more than hang a phone,” Mo said, her voice taking on a tone of frustration.
Aspen quickened her pace.
“And now you’re giving me the cold shoulder? I’m sorry if I’m confused, but it’s like the branch gave me whiplash.”
“Maybe it did.” Aspen shrugged, reaching the rear of the car. “Open, please.”
“Are you really doing this?” Mo reached her hand into the handle of the back gate, a few beeps emitting from the hatch as it opened autonomously.
“Doing what? Isn’t this what we agreed on?
” Aspen waited for the door to open fully before tossing in Mo’s pack.
She then finally met Mo’s eyes, seeing discouraged desperation.
“You needed closure, I butted in. I dragged you into the woods to hang a phone and almost got you hurt. Twice. I wanted a no-strings-attached fling, you agreed. We did it, on multiple fronts, and I somehow got you out without you dying. You’ve changed the trajectory of your life and now you can go back to the Bay with your head held high. ”
Mo’s face fell, her mouth opening to speak before closing again.
“I’m happy you got to talk to Annie again, I am. But we…” Aspen pointed between the two of them with emphasis. “We were never gonna work.”
“I just thought…with your birthday coming up…” Mo’s voice was full of hurt and confusion, her hand bracing herself on her car.
“I will have my birthday like I do every year—in the bar, doing my thing, living my life the way I’ve always lived it.”
Mo swallowed hard before meeting Aspen’s eyes. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“It is.”
Mo didn’t reply, only nodding before pushing the button on the hatch for it to close.
She then gave Aspen a small, desolate wave before moving toward the front of the car.
Aspen listened as she opened and closed the door, starting the car’s engine not long afterward.
Aspen felt her chest pull apart as she moved back up the hill, her eyes blurring with tears, trying desperately to focus on Betty’s truck.
She climbed in while Mo sped by, the sound of the Outback’s tires on the gravel shattering her heart. A sob ripped from her lungs just as she buckled herself in. Betty reached across the car to slam the door.
“There, there, kid.”
Aspen didn’t respond, instead curling up in the seat to cry.
* * *
The walk from Periwinkle to the bar doors seemed to take an eternity.
Aspen’s feet dragged along the ground, her knees and back aching from a lack of rest. As she stepped onto the stoop, her hands fluttered into her hair, attempting to tame what she knew was unruly.
She reached into the pocket of her jeans, pulling a hair band from the depths.
With practiced hands she pulled her hair into a sloppy low pony before rubbing her fingers up and down over her face.
Then she reached for the door, letting the sounds of folk music and Sunday football repeats hit her like a sack of bricks.
“Fuck that’s loud,” Aspen muttered, her head throbbing as she trudged toward the bar.