Chapter 13 #2
God, please let me find answers. What waited at the top might not just be wreckage—it might be a buried truth, something dark and dangerous that her grandfather never intended her to find.
Why else would he change his name and identity?
Then again, if he truly hoped no one would find it, why leave even the smallest of cryptic clues?
Why write a letter or leave a map? No. He wanted someone to find the truth, eventually.
Maybe that’s what deathbed confessions were about—the realization that the truth should never have been buried.
Oh, Grandpa Walt . . .
To think he’d lived that long while carrying such a morbid secret crushed her.
But he did it for them—Sarah and Aaron. Family was everything.
He’d instilled that much into them. Still, maybe Grandpa Walt would have buried the secret forever if he had known his grandson would be killed for what had been hidden.
She pushed the thoughts away to focus on keeping up with her guide.
Ryder continued forward and up, and the trail narrowed even more as they climbed. She was thankful for small things. At least for now there was a trail to follow. Blackspire rose above them, sharp-edged and waiting. And behind them, the clouds began to gather in earnest.
“Forecasts lie.” Wow. She didn’t want to be up here in an actual snowstorm, even if this wasn’t Everest.
She focused on putting one painful foot in front of the other. Hiking. Plodding. Trudging. Dragging her feet. Until finally . . .
Sarah wasn’t sure when it happened, but they’d lost the trail, and Ryder led her along rugged backcountry, going higher and higher.
This was why she’d wanted him. Was she imagining it or had the temperature dropped below freezing?
No matter. Ryder would keep her safe, and he would take her where she needed to go when no one else could.
He knew his way around, and she just had to trust the process.
They’d stopped a few times to rest and eat a protein bar. The usual. But her whole body was feeling it. She’d keep that to herself. No complaining from her. None. Didn’t mean she couldn’t whine to herself inside.
“How much farther?” Oh man. She promised herself she would not ask that question.
“We’ve come about six miles and, honestly, made it faster than I thought. Congratulations. You really are a triathlete.”
Hide the pain. “Told you.”
“Think you can make it a couple more miles? I have a place in mind for stopping tonight.”
Again she forced a tight smile. “Lead on.”
After a couple more hours of hiking, Sarah prayed hard she wouldn’t collapse completely in front of this guy. A good night’s rest and she’d be fine tomorrow. She could do this.
The ridge dropped off sharply, and she gasped at the dizzying view of the valley far below.
“It’s beautiful,” she mumbled to herself, certain Ryder hadn’t heard.
He was a good ten yards ahead of her, and roaring in her ears, the wind had finally appeared—and it brought a bite with it. Great. She pulled her beanie out of her pocket and put it on, then tugged her hood up over her head.
I sure hope this is worth it.
Ahead of her, Ryder finally slowed and scanned the terrain. She stepped carefully over a tangle of roots. That would be a great ending to this story—her tripping on roots and falling to her death at the foot of an active volcano.
Death by volcano, only not really.
Ryder moved away from the edge and deeper into a cluster of wind-scarred trees nestled against a granite outcrop. “This is it.”
Relief swelled inside. “It’s only three thirty. We could keep going and get closer to the spot on the map.” Please let it be the actual crash site.
“We won’t find a better place to shelter this high up before nightfall.”
He knew his business, and she couldn’t argue.
The rocky outcropping offered a natural windbreak plus a dry patch beneath a thick-topped subalpine fir.
When she breathed in the scent of fresh air and evergreens, it exhilarated and simultaneously relaxed her for no reason she could fathom.
Maybe it all came down to the fact that nature was good for the soul.
Ryder eased his pack to the ground and began clearing the area.
Sarah tried not to show how much her body ached as she joined him. Unshouldering her gear, she kneeled beside a patch of flattened needles.
“You’ve done this before,” he said without looking at her. It wasn’t a question.
Sarah shrugged. “I’ve had my share of field ops.
” The words were out before she could stop them.
Sarah winced inwardly, cutting herself off.
Ryder didn’t need to know about her past. Not yet.
She’d say no more, but that had earned a glance.
Still, he didn’t press. Maybe he sensed the wall she kept up. Maybe he had his own.
She stole a look at the darkening sky. “We’ll need firewood. If that weather shifts sooner than expected . . .”
“I’ll take care of it,” he said. “After I set up the tent.”
“I’ll set mine up.” She hoped. He’d told her to leave that to him, and maybe she shouldn’t have trusted him so much, because she dug through her pack, making sure all the supplies were in the right place . . . “Oh, wait. You have my tent in your pack. I can set up my own.”
“Sarah.” He stood tall, his expression serious, his eyes softening, and weirdly, that scared her.
“I brought one tent for the both of us,” he said.
What?