Ten

After devotions, Nate couldn’t sleep and walked around the outskirts of the camp. He heard Frank call to Kim, saw the two leave the shelter area, and noticed they seemed to be having another heated conversation.

Ted clapped a hand on his shoulder, startling him. “Jill is feeling crook again. I don’t want her to take the Hump, but she insists she can do it.”

“Sorry to hear she’s still sick.”

“I’d like for us to pray for her tomorrow as a team. There’s strength in numbers.”

“Good idea. You want us to do that now?”

“No, everyone but you has turned in for the night.” He paused. “So, what gives? Why are you prowling the area?”

Nate blew out a harsh breath, fisting his hands and shoving them into his pockets. “You didn’t tell me Carly wasn’t a member of your church group.”

Ted seemed confused. “I didn’t think it would matter.”

His words sharpened Nate’s disappointment to anger. “You didn’t think it would matter to try to hook us up, knowing she wasn’t a Christian, knowing what you know about my family and the hellish nightmare we’re going through? That my dad’s gone through for years?”

“Hey, man, chill out. I didn’t know she wasn’t a Christian. Jill met her when she was out shopping, but I don’t hang with the women. I barely know Carly.”

Nate forced himself to calm. “Sorry, Ted. I should’ve known better.”

“But I’m really surprised Jill had a hand in this.” Ted shook his head as if to clear it. “It’s a good thing you found out before anything could happen. Now you know and can steer clear of entanglements.”

“Yeah.”

At the mockery in Nate’s voice, Ted peered at his face. “Uh oh.”

Nate let out a disgusted laugh resembling a snort. “You can say that again.”

“You hardly know her.”

Nate leveled a gaze at his friend. “How long did you tell me it took before you felt you loved Jill? Seven days?”

“Love. Oh, boy. Nate, I’m so sorry, man. If there’s anything I can do. . .”

“Thanks. I have to work this one out for myself.”

The two men parted, but rather than return to his tent, Nate used his flashlight as a guide to walk the perimeter of the campsite, needing to release his frustrated energy. After only an eight-mile hike that day, he didn’t feel one bit exhausted, and his Carly-ridden thoughts strengthened when he remained motionless.

All day, he’d avoided Carly to the point of almost ignoring her, but he hadn’t failed to notice her confused and hurt glances when she thought he didn’t see. Turning a cold shoulder on her wasn’t right, not after all the disappointments she’d suffered, and he didn’t want to add to them and hurt her. Falling for her wasn’t right, not after all the misery he’d endured, and he didn’t want to add to that and hurt them both. Could he settle for in-between and just be a friend to her for the remainder of this hike, then part ways and forget about her?

He didn’t need the Bible to tell him a Christian shouldn’t get involved with a non-Christian; he’d had the proof in his own family and seen the dangers and results of conflicting faiths. Nate blew out a self-disgusted laugh. For the first time, he began to understand his dad instead of judging him. If his dad felt about Julia the way Nate was beginning to feel about Carly, then Nate could see how easy it was to reject what was right and embrace temptation.

Alerted to the sound of someone softly crying, Nate halted in shock. He followed the sound, his heart dropping when his flashlight picked up Carly. Her arm flew up over her eyes, and he dropped his flashlight’s beam.

“Carly? What’s wrong?” He thought about scolding her for taking off by herself, but curbed his words at the bleak despair in her eyes as they met his. She crossed her arms over her waist, clutching her elbows; she looked so vulnerable, so childlike, so desperate. So alone.

Her anguish tore at his heart until he felt her pain as if it were his. Without saying a word, he laid his hands against her back and drew her close. The dam broke as she let out gasping sobs, muffling them against his shirt. He lifted one hand to the back of her head, his hold tightening around her as he closed his eyes, wishing he could absorb her pain, wishing he could halt her tears while wondering what had caused them.

When at last Carly’s tears dwindled to shuddering breaths, Nate smoothed his hand down her hair. “Okay, now?” he asked.

She sniffled and pulled away, wiping the back of her hand against her nose. “Yes, sorry. I should go back to the shelter.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t want to bother you.”

Her words cut like knives, accusing him of his distant behavior. He felt their sharp sting to the core of his soul. No matter his personal feelings, he’d been wrong to ignore her, especially since he’d asked for her friendship.

“It’s no bother.”

At his quiet words, she looked up as if uncertain. Struck anew, he felt as low as river algae. Had he put that hurt look in her expressive eyes?

“We’re friends, Carly. It’s okay.” He made his decision.

A ghost of a smile lifted her lips. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you—she doesn’t want everyone to know—but I can’t handle this myself. It’s all too much right now.” He thought she might start crying again, but she straightened, then shook her head as if to stop it. “It’s Kim. She’s going blind.”

“Blind?” Stunned, Nate watched Carly.

She nodded. “This hike is her dream wish. Nate, if there really is a God, how could He let this happen? Kim believes in Him. I feel as close to her as if she were my little sister; she’s so special. When she told me tonight, I felt as if my heart might break. I still feel that way.”

Her jumbled words made him swallow hard. He didn’t know how to answer. But her grieving for Kim’s sad situation made him realize what a sensitive and caring individual Carly was. Her first words questioning God’s existence after telling him last night she’d come to believe it, then her next sentence proving she did believe it, showed him, too, that she was seeking. But seeking wasn’t finding, and Nate cautioned himself.

“Carly, the answer to your question lies beyond my reach. Right now I’m going through some difficult times myself with my family and have tossed a few of my own questions up to God. I don’t understand why some things happen, but I know that without Him, I’d be a lot worse off than I am now. So until I figure the reasons out—and I may never figure them out—I can only rely on Him as the safety harness to get me over the steep cliffs. I know that’s the only way I’m going to make it. I don’t know Kim well, but she seems tougher than she looks, and my guess is she’s going to make it, too.”

He didn’t often speak of his faith and felt a little uneasy under Carly’s stare. She gave a slight nod, her eyes lowering to the ground. Silence stretched between them.

“It’s late.” Feeling he’d botched things, Nate decided to end this before he made it worse. “We have a hard climb tomorrow. I think we should both try to get some sleep.”

Carly rubbed the moisture from her cheeks with both hands in one quick swipe. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“Between my shedding tears all over you and ripping you with my talons, I’ve turned into quite a trail mate, haven’t I?”

He gave a soft chuckle. “I’ve done my share of acting just as bad.”

She looked anxious again. “You won’t tell the others; I don’t think Kim wants them to know yet.”

“No, I won’t tell anyone. It’s her dad’s place or hers to give out that kind of information.”

“I wouldn’t have said anything but—”

He sighed, realizing she’d taken his words wrong. “Sometimes heavy burdens need to be shared. Kim did that with you, and now you’ve done that with me. It’s okay.”

“Thanks, Nate.” Her smile trembled, though her eyes shone and seemed more peaceful. “For being a friend.”

They returned to the shelter, and she made her way past the sleeping campers to her bed roll, while he moved to his at the opposite wall. Once he settled inside it, he thought about their conversation and turned to glance at her in the dim lighting, but she’d turned her back to him. He looked away from her huddled form and to the peeled wooden logs above, reminding himself that friends were all they ever could be. He offered up a silent prayer for her, that she would find the answers needed; then he offered up another one for the brave teenager. Carly’s words about Kim still stunned him, and he wondered why she’d told no one else of her condition. That she’d chosen to confide in Carly told Nate a lot, and he was glad others saw Carly’s worth, too.

For the rest of their hike, he would continue being her trail mate and stow any mushrooming feelings far behind him, abandoning them on some lonely summit. He owed her that much.

❧

Fog and rain greeted them before they reached the Camel’s Hump. Carly welcomed the bite of the stinging droplets on her skin; they helped to remind her she was alive. Kim, poor Kim, so young to go through something like this, too young. . .and Nate. She forced her mind to the treacherous climb of bare, treeless rock before her, but like the persistent droplets, the memory of his embrace lingered. . .his lips in her hair, his soothing voice, both hesitant and quietly commanding. A lifeline to help her pull herself together—she, who rarely fell apart.

These past two weeks had not only challenged her endurance, they’d stripped her of what she’d always considered her strengths, only to prove they were nothing more than weaknesses. Her callused view of life, her tenacity to forget the dull pain of the past while holding on to its brief sharp joys, laying brick by brick a wall of defense through her mockery of both herself and others. Hardened. Confident. Invincible. . . . Nate with slow persistence chipping away at the mortar that hid her miserable, dark soul—exposing her to light, sometimes without a word, sometimes with just a look. The wall flaking, herself trembling. Uncertain. Frightened. Vulnerable.

Her sole slipped on the slick rock, and she scrambled to get a hold, grabbing the jutting gray stone above to prevent her fall.

“Careful,” she heard Nate’s caution behind her.

Careful. She had tried to be cautious, to guard herself against him, but that hadn’t prevented Nate from seeing through her farce or from her divulging secrets better left hidden behind her wall. Worse, a part of her cruel nature had welcomed the pain of baring her conscience to him, of the need to have him hear her confessions. In an act of self-punishment, she had hoped he might condemn her, might agree with her that her soul was as black as her aunt said, and yet the very thing that would disgust him, she had refrained from airing, unable to bear his judgment or the censure she was sure would chill his eyes. The distance he had put between them yesterday, the distance she had told herself she wanted, had made her heart ache with confusion and regret.

She didn’t need this! Had done her best to avoid it. With Jake, she had been in love with the idea of being in love. In the sum total of the six months she had been with him, he had not once triggered the emotions that two weeks with Nate had produced. Had not once stirred, not only her flesh, but the core of her heart and soul, as well.

Carly gasped as the wall that surrounded her emotions crumbled further with the stark knowledge. She didn’t want this! If she could, if there was a path, she’d leave the trail now and return to Goosebury. The withering judgment of the town would seem like balm compared to the torment going on inside her.

She told herself as they made the final ascent that she could handle one more week. At the summit, visibility was poor, but as close as Nate stood, their eyes connected, and she wondered if she believed her personal claim.

She loved him.

The wind had picked up speed, battering against them as they stood on the barren stretch of rock and took a break from climbing. But the thirty-mile-per-hour gusts that threatened to push them over the edge seemed inconsequential to the violent jumble of emotions that raged through her mind.

Her recognition of God’s existence had somehow sneaked up on her, the awareness slow in coming; the realization that she loved Nate attacked her without warning as she climbed one of the most treacherous mountains on the trail. Both revelations scared her but for different reasons, and her mind felt as shaken as her body, now battered by the wind.

To escape the strong currents, Ted cut their rest short, and with the help of the white blazes on the rocks, they began their descent on the north side. The traction proved difficult, the rocks still wet though the rain had given over to mist. Carly concentrated every effort on where to place her feet and hands, not allowing her traitorous mind to heckle her further or to explore either well of revelation.

Halfway down the mountain, she lost her grip. She grabbed at the steep rock face, scraping her fingertips in a futile attempt to halt her slide of more than six feet on her stomach. Her sweatshirt rode up, the rocks biting into bare flesh. All at once, her soles thudded to a stop on a short ledge and stopped her fall into nothingness.

“Carly!”

She heard more scraping as Nate hurried his descent and landed beside her. “Are you okay?”

“Just a little shaken.” More than a little. Her hands, chest, and legs stung with fire, and she trembled as much as her voice. She kept her gaze on the gray rock beneath her, her heart pounding with the fact that, except for one short ledge, she could have hurtled into oblivion.

Oblivion? Or was there more?

With a numb sort of shock, she watched Nate’s hand pull her palm up. With him, she looked at the scrapes on her flesh. From the sticky feel, she was sure more of the same abrasions covered her skin below her jeans and sweatshirt.

“Do you need a minute to catch your breath?” His voice came very low, still.

She only wanted off this mountain and down onto level ground. She shook her head, trying to regain her confidence. With a shaky leg, she found a firm footing, beginning a much slower descent. Her body screamed from the pain of each action, and her mind reeled with the knowledge that this could have been more than just another fall. Only when she was again on safe ground did she let her mind continue its course.

Falls came with the territory; she had learned that these past seventeen days, since each of the group had endured their share. But this last fall had sent her close to hurtling off a mountain, and the shock of that made her throat tighten with apprehension.

She had always approached life with a devil-may-care attitude, certain once it ended, nothing else remained. Now she questioned that certainty, and with those questions came greater fears of the hell she’d heard mentioned. Fire and brimstone didn’t sound like something she wanted to face, but she feared eternity held nothing more for her. She didn’t need a Bible to tell her that her past sins were wrong; she’d known it deep inside. Otherwise, she would have felt no guilt, and she had. Each time.

Nate put a hand to her arm. “Are you okay?” The deep concern in his eyes moved her, shocked her. He looked as shaken as she felt.

“Falls happen.” She tried to be glib with her answer, but he offered no answering smile.

“We can take it slower if you need to.”

“I’m fine.” She forced her lips into a facsimile of a smile. “Really.” Without another word, she walked after the others. Yet her knees still shook, and throughout the rest of the hike to the next shelter, Carly revisited her near encounter with death.

❧

That night after supper, Nate watched Carly and Kim approach their circle as the group prepared for devotions. Cheered that she’d made the choice to join them, Nate kept his expression calm as their eyes connected, and he gave a nod in greeting.

The barest smile touched her mouth before she sat beside Kim, only a few feet from Nate. The teenager was as bubbly and vivacious as ever, and Nate marveled at her strength, especially knowing what he now did about her disability. Both she and Jill had managed the Camel’s Hump with few problems, Kim, with her youthful energy, raring to go once her feet touched level ground. Nate knew the prayers before the hike had aided in their success, and he was sure they’d saved Carly. Fresh panic rushed through his heart as he recalled the sound of cloth and buckles skidding on stone and the sight of Carly sliding toward the edge.

Each night, one of the group made a selection, and tonight as Sierra read a passage from the Gospel of John, Nate watched Carly. The hands, which had covered her knees so loosely before, tensed as her fingertips dug into her jeans. Her expression remained a blank mask, but in the flicker of campfire, he sensed moisture shimmering in her eyes. She whispered something to Kim, then rose and left.

Nate waited for her to return. He didn’t think she would wander off, but as her assigned trail mate, he felt responsible. For all her brash independence and womanly strength, Carly had hidden away the hurting little girl from so many years ago, and he felt she’d just come to discover her on this hike. Personal epiphanies could do strange things to people, making them act contrary to their nature.

He gave her a few more minutes, then made his exit as Kim explained her views on Jesus’s reactions in the passage. The shelter was dark, a few other campers already inside their sleeping bags. Nate headed in the direction he’d last seen Carly.

He wasn’t sure what he expected to find, but when he spotted her sitting on the ground, dejected, her arms crossed on upraised knees, her head buried in them, he hesitated. He didn’t think she was crying, but she looked beaten, like the loser of a long battle.

“Carly?” He whispered her name, afraid if he spoke too loudly, he might make her bolt like a frightened doe. A long, tense moment passed before she looked up.