Chapter Twenty-Nine
Maggie is tucked into her sleeping bag. Outside her tent, it’s quiet. The bachelor party has disbanded, the campfire extinguished.
Now she’s in the dark, surrounded by virtual strangers. This was a stupid idea.
An animal howls in the distance. A coyote? A wolf? She doesn’t know if they have wolves in Pennsylvania. But what is a wolf,
really, except an extremely aggressive outdoors dog? She’ll be fine.
She grabs her phone and is searching “dangerous woodland animals of Pennsylvania” when it buzzes with a call from Piper. She
answers immediately. “I’m so happy to hear from you!”
“I was hoping I wasn’t waking you,” Piper says.
“Wake me? How can I sleep? It sounds like there are predators out here.”
“Like . . . serial killers?”
“No. Wild animals.”
Piper laughs. “Mom, it’s Pennsylvania, not Tanzania. You’re fine. Where’s Aidan?”
“He’s in his tent. Everyone is in their tents, and thanks to you I’m here alone. My chances of fending off a bear are greatly
diminished by your absence.”
“Well, try to survive the night. If you’re really scared, go find Aidan. I’m sure he’ll tell you there’s nothing to worry about.”
“I’m not going to bother Aidan. I’d rather get eaten by a bear.”
“That’s rational. All right, Mom. I just wanted to say goodnight—and thanks for this weekend.”
Maggie smiles. “I love you, Piper. See you in the morning.”
After the call, Maggie pulls the sleeping bag higher up her chest and stares up at the darkness. She hears rustling outside,
and she sits up, heart pounding.
“Maggie?”
What’s Aidan doing out there?
“Yes?” she says, incredulous.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Okay. She unzips her sleeping bag, kicking it off. “Be right there.” She pulls her hair loose from the messy ponytail and shakes
it out. It’s pitch black out, but she’s not taking any chances.
The tent is sealed with a zipper and a series of hand-ties, and it takes her a few seconds to undo them all. She parts the
curtain of fabric and steps out into the cool night. She hadn’t realized how much warmer it is inside her tent.
“What’s up?” she says.
Aidan has a thick blanket around his shoulders. She can barely make out his features in the moonlight.
“I’m checking on you. Listen, I’ve been camping out here my whole life. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid,” she says.
“Really? Because I heard you on the phone a minute ago.”
He heard her stressing out about the wild animals? She closes her eyes for a second to process her mortification. “Sorry if
I disturbed you. I was just talking to Piper. I’m a bit of a night owl.”
“A night owl,” he says.
“Yes.”
“It sounded to me more like you’re concerned about night owls. And other woodland creatures.” He smiles to show he’s not being
unkind.
“You have remarkably good hearing.”
“Not really. It’s pretty quiet out here. And . . . my tent is only a few feet away.”
“Right,” she says. “Sorry about that.”
She’s aware of how she’s dressed: sweatpants and two pairs of fuzzy socks and her pilled turtleneck over a flannel button-down.
As much as she’d like to think it’s campout chic, she knows it’s more Little House on the Prairie.
“Do you want me to escort you back to the inn?” he says. “I don’t want to torture you.”
The offer is tempting. Except she’s not a damsel in distress. She’s a strong, competent, independent woman. Isn’t that what
she told him the first night they met? The campout isn’t part of the bushcraft challenge, but there’s no question that leaving
would be a defeat.
And really, she doesn’t actually want to leave. Standing there with Aidan, under the stars in the dark of night, she feels
like anything could happen. And she likes it. It’s been a long time since she had that sensation—utter freedom but also being
without a net. It’s like being twenty years old again.
“No, I’m fine. But I wish Piper had come along.”
“I get it,” he says with a sigh of empathy. “We both got dumped by our kids tonight.”
They look at one another. The silence becomes heavy. Excruciating.
“Do you want to come in?” she says.
“To help fend off the wild beasts?” he says. “Sure. What kind of bushcrafter would I be if I didn’t?”
“Is wild-beast fending on your itinerary?”
“That’s how we traditionally close out these weekends.”
They duck inside her tent and Aidan shines his phone so she can locate the small camping lantern next to her sleeping bag
and turn it on.
“I feel better with that light on,” she says. “I’m going to sleep with it.”
“At this point, I’m surprised you actually agreed to do this,” Aidan says.
“Me too. But that’s how much I want Piper to have a great weekend. I can’t say no to her.” That doesn’t explain why she’s
still out there. Alone in the tent with him. And they both know it. Sitting there on the ground, facing him a few feet apart
in the glow of the lantern, the attraction is so obvious it’s embarrassing. In the distance, she again hears the animal howl.
But she’s no longer afraid.
Aidan leans forward and kisses her.