Chapter Twenty-Four
ADELE
Sometimes there are bears
A few days later, I called encouragingly to the woman making her way slowly up the rock climb. “You’ve got this!”
“Do I though?” she called back, her tone dry.
Even though I knew she was nervous, there was enough humor in her tone that I knew she was okay. “You know it!” I returned.
One of the other women in the group commented from my side, “You’re really good at this.”
I glanced her way. “I’m not doing anything,” I pointed out.
She rolled her eyes. “Actually, you are. Now, you’re just standing here being our little cheerleader, but you showed us all how to belay, you did the initial climbing lesson, and now we’re all climbing.”
I grinned, feeling a flush of pride. “Well, good. If there’s one thing I aim to do, it’s to make sure anyone who hikes with me builds some confidence.”
This was a group of women who had signed up for a week at Heartfire Falls for day hikes, rock climbs, and so on. They were gearing up for a longer hike to do the entire Pacific Coast Trail the following year. They’d told me from the beginning they knew that was no easy feat.
Although the longer trails were often goals for hikers—the Appalachian Trail being the most famous in the US, two others being the Pacific Coast and the Continental Divide—Alaska was my stomping ground, and I was content to stay here.
There was also the reality that if I tried to do months-long hikes like those, I’d have to plan more carefully to make sure I had medically trained co-hikers with me in case something happened.
Here, my trips were shorter. My mind mentally shied away whenever I thought about how much I wished I didn’t need to depend on anyone.
A little while later, we were back at Heartfire Falls.
I was trying not to think about the fact that Cole had come over every night since our first night together.
Even more than that, I was trying not to think about how much I anticipated him.
My body buzzed with a hum of anticipation every afternoon into evening because I was impatient, ready and anxious to see him. To be with him.
“How are you doing?” Maggie’s voice came over my shoulder as I walked down the hallway after returning from a quick shower in the barn apartment.
I turned to face her. “I’m great, Maggie. I love this. I’m really grateful to be here.”
“We’re grateful to have you. We were already busy, but now we can advertise that we have a new guide.” She paused, tipping her head to the side. “Do you have a preference for who I pair you up with for longer trips?” she asked.
Heat started to rise in my cheeks, and I cleared my throat. “Of course not.”
I wasn’t about to admit to her that, of course, I did. I would love to be paired with Cole, but I also knew better. The idea of sleeping with him under the stars was beyond tempting. I knew I was dancing along the edge of something irrational with him already.
“What about Cole?” she pressed.
“Maggie!” I protested, realizing instantly I gave something away with that.
Her lips pressed together as if she were trying too hard not to smile before shrugging, as if to herself, and letting a wide smile uncurl across her face. “It seems like he really cares about you.”
“Oh, God, is it that obvious?” I fretted.
“Is what obvious?” Her tone was light with a hint of teasing.
I sighed, twisting my hands together just as—fuck my life—Cole appeared in the hallway. He walked with that easy stride of his. For God’s sake, even the way he walked set my pulse to thrumming. He stopped beside his mother.
“What are you saying to Adele?” he asked, looking between us with that familiar teasing grin.
“I was just pointing out that you really like Adele,” Maggie said, all easy-breezy.
“I do,” he said smoothly, not missing a beat, unabashed.
“Cole!” I protested.
He stepped to my side, curling his arm around my shoulders as he dipped his head and brushed a kiss on my cheek. “Adele, it’s obvious to everyone.”
“What’s obvious to everyone?” I managed to choke out, still reeling.
“That I like you and that I’ve been spending every night with you,” he replied with a shrug.
“Oh my God.” I looked to Maggie for help, but her gaze was warm and understanding.
“Hon, it’s really hard to keep secrets around here,” she said with a soft laugh. “I mean, we have eyes.”
“Oh my God.” Apparently, I was going to repeat that. I let out an incredulous laugh.
“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” she added lightly. “It’s just, well, it’s hard to miss how Cole feels about you. I, for one, am thrilled. So, for those longer hikes, then, I’ll pair you with Cole.”
“Perfect,” Cole offered.
I rolled my eyes. “You can pair me with whoever works best for the trip.” I tried to shrug it off.
“Speaking of pairing,” Haven said as he approached, “we need to go over the Katmai trip. We have twenty people signed up for it, and you’re going with us, right?” He glanced to me as he stopped beside us in the hallway.
“That was why I came here to begin with,” I said. “To get familiar with the area and plan for a trip to Katmai.”
“Of course, we’d love for you to be part of our group,” Haven said. “It’s not the kind of trip one should do alone, period. There are too many bears, of course. We leave next week.”
“Oh, we do?” I asked, startled.
“We do,” Maggie chimed in with a smile. “Well, I don’t. The boys do.”
They began moving down the hallway, and I fell into step beside Cole, whose arm slipped away from my shoulders only to reach for my hand. Seeing as I guessed we were being public about this, I laced my fingers with his.
He gave me a squeeze, bending close to my ear. “I hope that’s okay,” he murmured.
I lifted one shoulder in a shrug, my cheeks still burning up. “I figured it might become obvious,” I murmured. “I just hope it’s okay with everyone.”
“Of course it’s okay with everyone,” Haven said over his shoulder, winking with a sly grin. “We all want Cole to be happy.”
I let out a sputtering sigh.
“It’s okay,” Elsa said as she appeared through a doorway into the hall. “I had to get used to how everyone notices everything, but I promise it’ll be okay.”
I stayed quiet, experiencing a jumble of emotions.
On the one hand, I felt exposed and a little embarrassed that everyone knew what was happening between Cole and me.
But on the other hand, I craved the sense of belonging here.
Cole or not, I loved it here. I loved being able to hike every day.
I loved the area, and I loved feeling like I was part of something.
All of these emotions weren’t familiar to me. Growing up, of course, I loved my parents and my sister, but those years of surgeries and worries and fears—feeling isolated in school and left out—had created a sense of always being half a step off from where everyone else was, never quite belonging.
We ate dinner, and I savored the teasing at the table, the easy banter. Kendall and Jude’s dog was here tonight. A goofy three-legged husky named Travis.
“Travis is such a good boy,” Kendall said from my side as I idly stroked his head.
“He is,” I returned.
“He likes you,” she pointed out.
“I think he likes everyone,” I added, and Kendall grinned down at her.
“He is a friendly guy, but he also thinks you’re special. He hasn’t left your side,” Kendall replied.
Tommy glanced over at us as he walked by, putting his now-empty plate in the dishwasher. “Have you ever had a dog?” he asked.
“I actually haven’t. I always wanted one.”
“Well,” Jude teased, waggling his brows, “if you would like a pet, just say the word.”
“What do you mean?”
“Kendall runs the large animal rescue, but you know, she has an in with the main rescue program. Tiffany is always trying to find the latest sucker,” he said with a chuckle. “There’s no shortage of strays.”
I glanced among them, uncertain, but also so wishful for a pet I couldn’t even say it aloud. “When I met Tiffany at Firehouse Café, she tried to persuade me to adopt a dog.” My mind spun to the photo she’d sent me.
“After we get back from Katmai, I’ll take you out to the rescue,” Cole said from my side.
Maybe I should have protested, but the thought of the dog that I’d never been able to have when I was little made my heart ache.
That night, I fell asleep with Cole again, my body sated and relaxed because he played me like a fiddle. I tried not to let myself ponder how much I was savoring so many things about being with him. It was so much more than desire.