Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Maxinne
“Okay.” Zane glances over at me with a solemn expression that grabs my attention. “Before we get there, I need to explain the rules.”
I smile faintly. “Rules?”
“Yeah. This isn’t an ordinary hike.”
The road narrows the farther we drive. He slows the truck as the pavement gives way to packed dirt and gravel.
Trees crowd closely on both sides. Their branches touch overhead, creating a magical tunnel as the sunlight filters through in uneven patches.
A weathered slab of wood comes into view at the start of the trailhead bearing the words Silent Mountain.
“This place is different,” he says as he turns into a small parking lot where only two other cars are parked. Once he turns off the truck’s engine, he faces me and rests his forearm on the steering wheel.
“What kind of hike is this, then?” I ask.
A divot forms between his brows. “One where we don’t talk. At all.”
I blink. “Not even a little?”
“Not even a little.” His lips twitch into a grin.
“The point is silence. As you make the hike up the mountain, you think about whatever’s weighing on your heart.
Whether it’s your anger, fear, or grief.
I’ve used this hike several times to talk to God when life felt extra heavy.
Everything I don’t know how to say out loud, I say it up here. ” He points to his temple.
I follow his gaze out the windshield. The mountain doesn’t look that bad at first. The trail winds through the trees and climbs gradually up the lower ridge.
Then my eyes travel higher as the gentle slope gives way to steep rock faces that zigzag up the mountainside.
Suddenly, this whole adventure feels a lot more real, but with the way Zane’s shoulders are pinned back in determination, it makes me want to give it a shot.
“You let all of it fuel you for the climb,” he continues. “And then once you reach the top, you release it all with a scream.”
My head snaps toward him. “Wait, you what?”
“Or shout. Or pray out loud,” he amends, ignoring the bewildered look on my face.
“You give it all up. Then you breathe in what you want to replace it with. Whether it’s grace, or peace, or faith.
Whatever God’s offering to you. Then your hike down is for you to focus on your gratitude or whatever good thoughts you’re having. ”
I don’t laugh, even though I feel like I could. The way he explains it tells me this matters to him, and he must have brought me here for a reason.
So, I ask, “Why did you bring me here?”
He doesn’t answer me right away. Outside of the truck, a breeze moves through the trees, leaves whispering against one another. My stomach clenches as if I’m bracing myself for something, but I’m not sure what.
“Because,” he finally says. When his gaze lands on mine, the playful ease I’ve come to expect is gone, and I swallow loudly.
“You’ve been searching for answers and direction for what you want out of your life.
I’ve watched you flourish and reach out to God, seeking a relationship with him, even though religion has hurt you.
” His fingers tighten briefly around the steering wheel.
“And because things with us are a little uncertain.”
I know he’s right. We’ve been avoiding the discussion of ’what happens to us after summer ends,’ and I think I get it now. He’s hoping this hike might help me clear my head, to make a decision.
“I thought maybe this hike could help us release the things we’re afraid of. And we can figure out what the next step should be afterward.”
His hair is springing furiously where it sticks out beneath his backward ball cap, making Zane look like a beautiful mess. I take him in, memorizing this version of him so I can keep it with me always, like a photographic memory.
Zane exhales slowly. “There’s something else.”
I turn to face him fully now. He’s staring straight ahead again, his jaw set, and the sunlight catches amongst the faint stubble along his cheek.
“After Lily, I didn’t think I had it in me to open my heart again. I told myself I was better off alone. That my heart was safer that way. Then you showed up.” He lets out a breath that sounds almost like a laugh. “And my walls fell down without me even realizing it.”
His gaze meets mine then, and the vulnerability I see steals the air from my lungs.
“I’ve fallen for you, Max.”
His eyes linger, as if he’s tracing every line of my face.
His words are taut between us, a live wire humming with electricity, and I’m waiting to see which one of us is going to be shocked first. I want to let him know that I’ve fallen for him too, but my heart is currently beating in my throat, trapping the words.
He continues, “I don’t know where God is leading you. Only He knows that. But I need you to know that I choose you, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this work.”
My lips lift in a smile, my stomach swooping as his eyes dip to follow the movement. He holds my gaze as he adds, “You don’t have to say anything right now. We can talk about it more after the hike.”
A thick silence fills the truck, and I swallow, my throat tight, with all of my emotions pressing against my ribs. I’m not ready to say anything yet. Not when the truth feels too big and unfinished. So, I nod instead, and Zane opens his door.
We step out into the quiet, and I follow closely behind him, carrying with me everything I don’t know how to release yet.
As we make our way to the foot of the trail, there’s a large glass case, and inside is a map, fun facts about the hike, and the history behind it all.
I stand there, reading it for a moment, before Zane gestures for us to begin.
He leads the way, and I follow closely behind him.
Dirt is packed hard beneath our boots, edged with roots that look like they’ve clawed their way out of the earth.
The trail narrows almost immediately, leaving very little room for us to walk side by side.
Zane walks ahead of me, moving in a way that makes me wonder how many times he’s hiked this trail.
I train my focus on him. The woods smell like damp leaves and tree bark, and I welcome the scent, allowing it to settle deep in my lungs. Somewhere above us, cicadas hum loudly, and with each step that we take, the ground crunches. The sounds are loud in the absence of conversation.
The silence is strange at first. Normally, Zane and I are chatting during our hikes together.
So, naturally, I go to open my mouth to start a conversation but clamp it shut so I don’t break the rules.
As the quiet presses in, my thoughts begin to take over.
I guess now is a good time to have a talk with God.
Alright, God, I’m here, and we have a lot to discuss.
My legs burn as the trail begins to slope upward, my breaths turning heavier. Sweat gathers at the back of my neck, sliding down between my shoulder blades. Zane glances back once to check on me, his expression completely calm, before he faces forward again.
My gaze drops to the path, taking note of each of my steps, making sure I don’t trip as I continue my conversation with God.
What do You want for me?
The question I’ve carried with me for the past few months stays unanswered. My foot catches on a root, and I take a second to steady myself. So much for watching where I’m going. I push forward, using the ache in my calves as fuel to keep pushing.
I’m tired, God. I’m tired of guessing what my life should become. I’m tired of choosing the wrong path.
Anger rises to the surface of my thoughts, no matter how hard I try to fight against it, but I don’t want to be angry at God. God didn’t make my choices for me. I know I’m standing here because of the roads I chose to walk, doors I chose to close. It’s my own doing.
But knowing doesn’t stop the heat from spreading through my chest. It doesn’t stop the old questions from pressing in.
If He’s good, if He knows everything, then why did it all have to be so hard?
Why did it feel like I was always the one holding things together while everyone else got to leave?
I hate the part of myself that wants to accuse Him instead of trust Him.
Still, the anger claws its way up anyway, refusing to be ignored, carrying years of disappointment with it.
Why did You let my dad leave? He walked away and built a life somewhere else while my mom was left to work herself into exhaustion just to keep us afloat. And then Ashton had to go chasing reconciliation with Dad, not even thinking about how he left the two of us behind.
Tears blur the trail ahead as I fight to keep the sob building in my throat from escaping. Every instinct tells me to cry out, to fill the silence with every question and hurt I’ve carried for years. But maybe that’s the point.
Silence has a way of stripping everything else away until the only voice left to listen to is the one you’ve spent the longest avoiding, and mine has been aching to be heard. This hike makes sense now.
I watched my mom struggle. Watched her pray and ask for help, only for the church to become distant and judgmental.
They turned their backs on us, people who supposedly know You.
How else were we supposed to feel other than abandoned?
Why didn’t You show up then, when our faith was being stomped on?
The trail begins to steepen, and my thighs begin to burn as we march forward. My breath stutters as the tears flow quicker now, my thoughts holding me hostage.
I had big hopes to go to college and get a good job so that I could take care of Mom for a change.
I wanted that for her, for us, but then Derek came along, and I let his dreams swallow mine whole.
I thought that true love meant sacrifice and that everything would be okay.
But now look at me. I could have had my degree by now.
I wouldn’t have to leave Zane and this would all be so much easier.