Chapter 28 Cateline
CATELINE
The next days involve a lot of hiking and foraging. Connor shows me the difference between poisonous and medicinal plants, edible berries, and ones to stay away from.
To “survive” the Enduro event, participants have a passport, which brings to mind my predicament.
But instead of it allowing participants into a country—like the one where they live and work, but I can’t think about that while trying not to die in the wilderness—we have to get a stamp after completing various challenges supervised by the organizers.
There is rope and rock climbing, obstacle courses, and other events.
One night, we have to stay up on watch because word is that a mountain lion is on the prowl.
Connor assures me it’s all part of the fun and games.
On the third day, a storm drives us toward a cave for shelter. Hailstones rock from the sky. While we wait it out, Connor sneaks glances at me and bites the edge of his lip.
Yeah, I’d like to kiss again, too, but see, I don’t have access to my usual hygienic products like toothpaste.
He has chewable toothpaste tablets, but they don’t exactly provide kissable fresh breath.
Connor startles me when he says, “Hey, check it out.” At last, the sky clears and a rainbow appears, arching the sky in a blend of colors rarely seen together in nature.
His eyes land on me. “Just like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“A contradiction. A storm and a rainbow,” he drawls, his accent coming in thicker since returning to North Carolina.
“You think so? Well, you’re a bull and a China shop.”
“The expression is a bull in a China shop,” he corrects.
“I know that. You’re alternately like a bull and then surprise me with something more gentle, more—”
“I’m not fragile.”
“Definitely not physically.”
“Emotionally?” he asks, aghast.
“I’m just saying your heart was shattered and you’ve been working hard to protect the pieces ever since.”
“I’ll prove to you that I’m strong.”
“You don’t have to prove anything.”
“That I have unmatched endurance,” he adds as if I didn’t comment about not having to prove anything.
I sigh. “That’s not what I meant.” But he doesn’t let me explain myself, which lights my inner fuse. The one that kept me on the dancefloor long after everyone went home. That got me up before dawn the next day. That pushed me in much the same way Conner’s adversity pushed him.
Nonetheless, as we continue the hike, everything becomes a competition.
A battle of egos. Connor even sings a famous little song about how anything I can do, he can do better.
Well, I’ll show him. We tease each other with it back and forth, propelling us through the challenge and causing me to forget the challenges I face in real life.
On the fourth day, while on a hike, we get into a tight spot where we have to cross river rapids.
I stop and shake my head.
“What’s the matter?” he asks.
“I can’t swim,” I confess.
“Well, you don’t want to swim in that, anyway.
Though I suppose we could both use a bath.
” He waves his hand in front of his armpit.
“Not there, though. We’d get swept away, but I suppose you not knowing how to swim presents us with a problem.
Also, I know who not to have on my team next time I do a triathlon. ” He winks.
Well past adhering to etiquette, I roll my eyes. Then smooth my ponytail while wondering how much dirt and sweat are on my face.
The bonus of so much walking and being in the wilderness is plenty of time to think, which I do while waiting for Connor to assess the river situation.
I love Blancbourg and the opportunity it affords me, but now what?
Will I be able to go back? Can I work remotely?
On top of that, will there even be a Blancbourg for much longer?
If Regina and I don’t figure out the finances soon, the school will be forced to close.
My one hope is that I think we’ll be able to preserve the building with the historical designation, which provides some funding for upkeep, but does any of that matter if I’m stuck in France?
What’s next aside from making it across this creek? That poke in the ribs suggests ballet, but I’m too old to join a dance company. Plus, I have a steady job at the school. So does Arthur and everyone else employed there.
In these last days, Connor’s beard has practically grown back and he emerges from the woods having chopped down a tree to use for us to cross. He’s big and strong and...mine? Is he mine or does part of him still belong to this forest, to Anna, to the past?
What about me? Can I move forward and if so, where? These thoughts land me exactly where I started.
“Are you building a boat?” I ask Connor.
“No.”
“Okay, lone wolf, tell me what you’re doing. What if something happens to you? How would I make it here on my own?”
“Nothing will happen to me and I took precautions. Even though it’s against the rules, my phone is in my bag, but only to be used in dire emergencies. Not if you break a nail.”
“I already broke all my nails.” I snort. “You seem to be operating independently and according to your own rules. I don’t even know what’s going on. Teach me how to chop down a tree.”
He chuckles. “You’re adorable, Kitty Cat.” He doesn’t sound like he’s teasing.
A warmth that’s different from the humid day floods me. A dip in the water doesn’t sound half bad.
After outlining how he’s building us a bridge, he asks, “Explain how you escaped childhood without learning to swim.”
“Too busy.”
“With?”
“I had rules while you had chaos growing up.”
“I didn’t take all of the chaos with me. I’ve made a few rules since. Don’t fall in love, never date a woman more than once, and don’t stick around long enough to develop—”
“Feelings,” I finish for him. “What about bringing a woman to the middle of the woods?”
“That’s a new one for me. I had those rules so I could rise to the top of the pack.”
“If you didn’t notice, you got there, football star.” I poke him in his very hard chest.
“Now it’s a matter of staying on top.”
“What would happen if you fell in love, dated a woman more than once, or stuck around long enough to develop feelings?” I ask.
Before Connor answers, he takes off across the log bridge like a tightrope walker. From the other side, he calls, “Your turn.”
I’d like to use my impeccable balance to cross this with ease, but I’m afraid of what’ll happen if I fall.
However, more than anything, I want to hear the answer to my question, so I drop to my hands and knees and crawl across, willing myself not to shake because I’m terrified of being swept into the raging water below.
All the while, breathing is like trying to drink through a clogged straw. When I get to the other side, I collapse onto my back. My heart batters my chest. I gaze up at the sky, thankful to be alive, and a smile blooms on my face.
“You did it.”
“I did.”
Connor lowers next to me and we lie side by side, staring at the clouds sweeping across the sky. His hand finds mine and our fingers lace together.
After a while, I say, “You never answered my question. What would happen?”
He rolls to face me.
Blades of grass whisper between us. The water gurgles in the background, but all I can hear is the in and out of his breath. Of mine. Not quite in sync, but not entirely offbeat either.
Our eyes meet.
“What would happen? I’d be here with you, Cat.” A boyish smile washes over Connor’s masculine face.
My insides glow like I’m made of sunshine as we remain here a while longer, in the middle of nowhere and gazing at the clouds shifting across the blue sky. At least for this moment, I relax. My heart slows. Everything feels just right.
On our way to the next checkpoint, our conversation flows easily, as though the rapids opened a floodgate.
“Favorite ice cream?” he asks.
“Chocolate. You?”
“Mint chip.”
“Favorite song?”
“Anything classic rock. Your turn.”
“Swan Lake. The orchestral version.”
The list goes on.
“We’re so different,” I say when we still don’t find something we share in common: books to movies, country to city, and mountains to the ocean.
“We’re practically the opposite.”
“Football and ballet, for instance.”
“What if we never find something that we both agree on?” he asks with a laugh.
We stop for water and he lets me take a sip first.
“I think we’ve mistakenly thought we’re at war with ourselves, life, and each other.
” I shift my weight as though considering something.
“My instinct is to fight you. But I wonder if we might make this easier if we lay down arms and consider ourselves allies.” I hold his gaze.
“It’s a good, reasonable option while we’re alone out here. ”
“Haven’t we already done that? You’re my fiancée.” The corners of Connor’s lips lift.
“I mean officially. A peace treaty of sorts. I want to see you succeed and pass this class and not lose your spot on the team.”
“Oh, right. That’s what we’re doing.” His gaze drops.
“That came out wrong, but I want to be sure that this is real and not a result of us relying on each other in the wilderness. Yes, I’m your coach. Though this wasn’t what I was expecting.”
“What were you expecting?” he asks.
“Press events, fancy dinners, and meetings where you were acting like a baboon and I had to reinforce positive behavior.”
Amusement lights up his eyes. “I think of myself more as a gorilla.”
“I thought you were a wolf.”
“Same thing.”
“Actually, Connor, you’re a man.”
On cue, he steps closer.
“A big, burly, handsome, capable man,” I add.
His copper eyes hook mine. “You know, I think we can find something that we both agree on.” His voice is like the wind rustling the branches of the trees overhead.
My heart flutters like the leaves on the branches.
Connor brushes his hand along my jaw.
My pulse races and my cheeks flush as it starts to rain, but neither of us moves from this spot.