20. Chapter 20
Chapter twenty
Sunday morning: Jonathan
T he next morning, warm light illuminated the cover of Jonathan’s hammock. He awoke from the kind of fitful sleep that caused more fatigue than it banished. Scrubbing both hands over his face, he emitted a low growl.
Coffee. I need coffee.
He looked at his watch; it was already seven thirty. Typically one to rise with the dawn, he was surprised by how late he’d slept. With one last groan, he sat up and pulled on the T-shirt, flannel, and puffy vest he’d tucked into a side pouch the evening before.
Jonathan struggled to fall back to sleep after the excitement of saving Lucy from the bloodthirsty opossum. Her screams of terror woke him and motivated him to fly out of his hammock at lightning speed. But her hungry stare boiled his blood and kept him from relaxing once he crawled back into bed. He lay there for nearly an hour pondering what would have happened if he’d continued to touch her. If he’d moved in to kiss her. Would it have stopped there? Or would they have stayed up all night tangled together in her tent?
A raging erection had a way of keeping a man up at night. And since Jonathan didn’t make it a habit of masturbating while working, he tried whatever he could think of to distract from his arousal. He finally drifted off once he hit about twenty-three bottles of beer on the wall .
Unzipping the hammock, he hung his legs over the edge to shimmy into his pants and pull on his boots. He took a deep breath while dismantling his sleeping quarters, allowing the cool mountain air to cleanse his lungs. Though minimal and cozy, the fully encapsulated cocoon hardly allowed for a draft.
With the bundled hammock neatly tucked away, he pulled out supplies and began preparing breakfast. The aromas of java and eggs were usually enough to lure out even the more reluctant adventurers from bed. But Lucy had yet to budge.
Leaving the rehydrated scramble to cook, he moved over to her tent and listened. Light snoring drifted from within. Jonathan smiled and, for a moment, was inclined to let her sleep a bit longer. Unfortunately, time was not on their side. They needed to clean up camp and get moving.
“Wake up, sunshine. Time to face the day,” Jonathan cooed, attempting to wake Lucy as gently as possible. The poor woman had already been through a lot. Jarring her from a deep sleep wouldn’t be a great way to launch their impending journey.
He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sounds of slow rustling and quiet murmurs about a giant opossum.
“Lucy. Breakfast is almost ready,” Jonathan attempted, projecting a little more volume.
With a big yawn, she asked, “Coffee?”
“First cup brewed just for you.”
“Mmmm. I thought I smelled it.” The slight gravelly tone of her voice sent a tingle up his spine. There was something impossibly seductive about a woman who had just woken up. To Jonathan, mornings were inherently sexy. He appreciated the warmth of the rising sun on his skin. He liked how his thoughts were still foggy, unbothered by the worries of the coming day. And, of course, there was nothing better than a satisfied lover draped across his chest, eyes full of suggestions for how to spend the early hours .
But Jonathan hadn’t woken up next to a woman in years, and the last time had been with Cynthia. He wasn’t celibate, but he sure as hell kept things casual. Opting for flings that ended before breakfast was preferred to a strings-attached relationship. He wasn’t a dog chasing all the tail in town; he just didn’t want anyone to get invested. There was too much responsibility. Too much risk.
And Lucy oozed relationship material.
There was no way she’d be down for a one-night stand. To be honest, Jonathan wouldn’t be satisfied with that kind of arrangement either. One night with her wouldn’t do. He could tell from that single kiss the afternoon before and the electric current that flowed when he touched her that he would become irrevocably addicted.
Keep your distance. Keep your distance.
Jonathan repeated the mantra under his breath and walked back over to the fire to stir the contents of the skillet. His stomach growled, redrawing his focus to the morning routine. At home, he would never dream of making powdered eggs for breakfast, but somehow, cooking them over a fire in a beautiful campsite always made his mouth water.
Lucy emerged from her tent, wild hair tumbling loose around her shoulder, cheeks rosy, and a sleepy grin on her face.
Speaking of mouth-watering . . .
Jonathan swallowed the lump in his throat and averted his eyes. “How did you sleep?”
“Like a rock,” Lucy said with another yawn, rubbing her eyes. “You?”
“Uh, same,” he replied with a tight-lipped grin. Lies. He may have been rock-hard but he sure didn’t sleep like one. “Breakfast will be ready in five if you want to handle morning . . . ah . . . things . . . ”
Recognition dawned, and a smirk spread across her face. “Everyone pees, Jonathan. We’re lost in the woods together. I don’t think it’s necessary to try and keep up pretenses.”
“Fair.”
Lucy visited the privy, washed up in the creek, then moseyed back to the fire. She happily accepted the offered mug.
“Do you want anything in your coffee?” Jonathan asked.
“Sacrilege.” She pretended to clutch imaginary pearls around her neck then chuckled. “I take my instant coffee straight up. It smells amazing.”
He nodded at her appraisal. Black coffee was his preference too. No fuss, no muss. “You’re welcome. My sister talked me into having some packets of sugar and that god-awful powdered creamer on hand for customers. She says not everyone’s a motor-oil-drinking heathen like me.” He gave a snort and shook his head.
“Well, you’re in good company. Aside from a customary pumpkin spice latte or two in the fall, of course.” Lucy took a small sip, testing the temperature. Her eyelids fluttered as she took a larger gulp. “Is your sister older or younger?”
“Frankie is the epitome of a bratty little sister.”
“As a younger sister myself”—Lucy laid a hand over her heart and gave a mischievous grin—“I’m compelled to ask for an example.”
“Sure,” Jonathan said with a laugh. He thought for a moment, unsure which especially Frankie antic to share. He went with the most recent. “Sometimes she offers to pick up a coffee for me when she knows I have a lot of work to do.”
“Aww, that’s sweet.”
“It would be if she ever got me a basic drip coffee. Instead, she shows up every time with some ridiculous sugar bomb. You know, the kind with buckets of whipped cream and sprinkles all over it.”
Lucy clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re the kinda guy who worries that something like that threatens his masculinity.”
Jonathan shook his head. “Ha. Not at all, I strut around the office with the damn thing to show her she can’t get a rise out of me. But I do dread the inevitable sugar crash that comes later.”
Eyeing him up, Lucy waggled a finger at him. “I bet you love those drinks, don’t you?” She nibbled on her lower lip to suppress a wider grin. Her nose crinkled in a teasing way. Subtle playfulness bordered on flirtation.
Jonathan’s heart beat faster and a touch harder.
What had she asked? Oh, right.
His instinct was to deny the good-natured accusation, but what would be the point?
“Fine. Yes. Sometimes I do.” He rolled his eyes. Then he implored, “But please never let her know that. I’d never hear the end of how she got me hooked on double-chocolate-covered-strawberry-mocha-frappes.” Jonathan hung his head with mock shame.
“I like her already.”
“She’d definitely like you.” Jonathan meant it. He tried to convince himself it was because Lucy was naturally likable. She was, but it was more than that. There was something about her. He hadn’t felt this drawn to anyone in a very long time.
Keep your distance.
“What does Frankie do for work?”
Grateful for a neutral topic, Jonathan said, “She works for me as a guide, but her dream is to be a social worker. We were adopted after a few years in foster care. I was nine, and she was seven. She has a soft spot for kids stuck in the system. Despite my constant nagging, she’s been sitting on her grad school application for months.”
What was it about this woman that made him spill his guts? He’d never discussed being adopted with a customer, mostly because he didn’t think of his mom and dad as anything other than Mom and Dad. But also, because he typically kept personal information to himself.
He’d never survived a landslide or been stranded with one either, so . . .
Shaking himself, he focused on breakfast. After divvying up the scramble, they ate quickly. Once done, Lucy washed dishes while Jonathan put out the fire.
“If you bring me your Nalgene and hydration bladder, I can fill them while you take down your tent,” he said, pulling out a water filter from his backpack. Taking everything to the creek, he began the arduous process of pumping potable water into their bottles and reservoirs. “I assume you’ve used one of these?”
“Yep,” she assured him. “My dad taught me when I was a kid. I have it drilled into my head that you bring more than enough water and have a backup plan just in case. There are two LifeStraws in my pack.”
Fifteen minutes later, camp was packed up, and Lucy and Jonathan knelt around a paper map spread out over a boulder.
“We are here. This”—Jonathan said while circling a region southeast of camp—“is where the landslide happened. We’re assuming anything near here is unstable and must be avoided. Immediately west of us”—he dragged a finger leftward along the map—“is very rocky with a number of cliffs. We may have to traverse along the edge a few times, but we’re going to stay away from drop-offs as much as possible.”
“No complaints from me.”
“Good. Our best course of action is to head north. Up over the summit and down the other side. It’s the longer route by at least half a day but will also be the safest way to go.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “How long do you think it’ll take? Following a different trail shouldn’t take that long, especially going downhill.”
“You’d be right”—he hoped his apologetic smile offered some reassurance, but he knew she wouldn’t like what came next—“if there was an established trail on that side of the mountain.”
“How could there not be another trail from the summit?”
Jonathan shrugged. “The forest service crews don’t tend to cut new trails unless it’s necessary. The goal is to keep the parks as natural as possible. A complex spider web of trails not only imposes on the natural habitat, but it can also confuse hikers.”
“Ok, so I’ll ask again. How long?” There was an edge to her voice.
“Expect to camp two more nights out here.”
Lucy didn’t respond. Instead, she dropped her head in her hands and let out a ragged groan. Her weariness and frustration were not lost on Jonathan. He was right there with her in a cloud of worry, but he had to keep it together for both their sake. There was a mountain ahead of them, literally, and they needed to work together to make it safely back to town.
“Would it help if I pointed out the upsides?” he ventured.
“Upsides? As in plural.” Her head remained down as she mumbled through her hands.
“Yes. One, when we don’t return home tomorrow, search and rescue will assemble.”
She looked up, skepticism smeared across her face. “Please tell me they’re Avenger-level superheroes.”
“Oh, they’re superheroes in their own right. Hard-working, dedicated, and they know the region inside and out.” He had an incredible respect for the people on the local crew. Miguel had asked him to consider a career in search and rescue before Jonathan’s dad got sick. But the need to keep the family legacy going made the decision an easy one. Even if his dad had survived cancer, he preferred the free flow of guiding rather than working in life-or-death scenarios every day. Especially after what happened to Cynthia. He couldn’t handle that level of responsibility, dealing with people on arguably the worst day of their lives. Nope. Guiding was better, more laid back, less severe.
Usually.
“What’s the other silver lining?” Lucy’s face relaxed, and she appeared more resigned than irritated.
“I won’t be charging you for the extra days?” It took a lot of might, but he managed to hold a straight face.
After a few seconds of Lucy blinking at him, she rolled her eyes and snorted. “How magnanimous of you.” Jonathan much preferred her sarcasm to the hopelessness she’d radiated moments before.
Good. He got her to relax a little. Their situation was challenging but not dire. It was his job to prepare for the worst, and he had become very good at that. They had enough food for a few days, provided they ate leanly. Unlimited drinking water because of the filter pump and Lucy’s LifeStraws, a well-stocked first aid kit, and shelter. Two shelters, actually.
Jonathan ran his gaze over Lucy, who was silently studying the map. Her glossy ponytail poked out the back of a purple Puget State University hat. Lost in thought, she fiddled with the ends of her wavy hair and ran her straight white teeth over her plump bottom lip. She glanced up and caught him looking. Teeth releasing flesh, she gave him a tentative smile.
Returning the expression—hopefully with a little more reassurance woven in—he stood and held out his hand. “Shall we? ”
She allowed him to help her up. “I guess we shall.”
Jonathan hesitated, just standing there. Fingers wrapped around hers, he took in the resilient beauty of the woman who stood before him. Being lost wasn’t ideal. But maybe being lost with her wouldn’t be the worst thing.