Three

Near Seth Warner Shelter, Jill convinced Ted to stop for a lunch break. They were halfway to their night stop, but Carly had a feeling if Ted could have gotten away with it, he would have continued the remaining six miles and forced everyone to chow on granola bars and trail mix while they plodded ever onward.

“Everyone needs a breather,” Carly heard Jill tell her husband. “You’re used to a heap of physical activity, but this is their first day out. We need to call it quits, or someone could strain a muscle.”

Ted gave in with reluctance, and Carly mentally applauded Jill. Carly had practiced carrying her forty-pound backpack when she trained on the lane near her home, but she’d never carried one for so long, and her shoulders and lower back burned. A break to sit and rest would be welcome, and as the others dropped their backpacks and walking sticks on the ground with relieved sighs, Carly knew she wasn’t the only one who thought so.

Her gaze wandered to Nate. A flush of embarrassment shot through her to see him look up from setting down his pack to catch her watching him. She looked away.

Since their slight altercation, Carly had worked harder to push ahead, walking faster, though after a couple of miles, her shins and thigh muscles complained at the mistreatment, and she acknowledged her foolishness. She couldn’t explain her irritation with the man, since Nate had only followed Ted’s orders in watching out for those green to the trail, but felt her unease had something to do with how Nate stared at her. She darted a glance his way. He was still staring at her.

She took a seat on the platform of the three-sided shelter, which was damp, but she’d been forewarned that rain and getting wet were givens on this hike. Retrieving a package of freeze-dried vegetable crunchies from her backpack, she also pulled out her mini recorder to recount her first day on the trail so far. The all-encompassing forest of greenery refreshed her soul, as did the scent of rain.

Sierra joined her, asking what she was doing. When Carly admitted her former job as a journalist and that she wanted to compile information for a book, Sierra asked questions regarding writing and the publishing business, stating that she’d thought about submitting some poetry to a publisher. The two talked until Ted rallied everyone to resume the hike, and the break ended.

Instead of relieving her aching muscles, the rest had made them feel worse. Carly groaned as she slipped on and buckled her backpack around herself.

“The first days are hassles,” Jill sympathized. “It’ll get better once your body adapts to the new routine.”

Carly hoped Jill was right and only the first days were bad; no matter how hard she tried to keep to the front, her flaming shins and aching lower back had her lagging toward the rear, until she again trudged in front of Nate. She felt his eyes burn through her scalp, and she lost her footing. Her arms flew out as she struggled to regain her balance.

Nate grabbed her arm before she could fall in the mud. “Watch out for those tree roots.”

“Thanks.” Her face flushed hot, but she didn’t make eye contact with him.

The remaining miles awkward, Carly forced herself to concentrate on the tree-lined view and the path while thinking of ideas to add to her book. By the time they reached Congdon Shelter, gray clouds loomed above, shot with orange from the evening sun. Ted instructed the group to pitch their tents before the deluge hit, and Carly hurried to do so, pleased that regular practice in her backyard now had her looking like a pro. Satisfied, she straightened and brushed off her hands, noticing Nate watching from several feet away. He’d already pitched his tent about fifteen feet from hers.

“What? Didn’t think I had the brains to do it?” she asked.

A burst of air left Nate’s mouth, sounding like an annoyed half laugh, and he shook his head. “No, Carly, I didn’t say a thing.”

She crossed her arms. “You may not have said it, but you thought it.”

“And just how would you know what I thought?”

“Because you have that look on your face. Superior and all-knowing. And you’re male. All men think the same thing—that women are incompetent creatures who rely on a man’s input for every single thing.”

Nate stared at her a moment as if he had no idea what planet she came from, then put up his hands in surrender. “I concede. You’re right—”

“Aha!”

“I am male. But I have no idea what you’re talking about or where you get your ideas. And the look on my face was admiration for how fast you put that tent up. Jill told me this was your first time camping overnight.”

Carly felt a niggling irritation that Jill had spoken to Nate about her. “I’ve been on day hikes before. And I’ve camped out at cabins.”

“Not exactly the same thing.”

Carly couldn’t argue with that. At least the shelter had a privy—but not much else.

A smattering of raindrops struck her cheek and head, and she looked up at the same time Nate did.

“You better duck inside your tent,” Nate said. Then as if sensing her bristle, he added, “Just a suggestion if you don’t want to drown. Not an order.”

“Drown?”

“Never mind.”

The faint smile on his face as he moved to his own tent needled her, but she resisted the urge to demand an answer. She ducked into her tent and zipped it closed. With hardly enough room to move, she decided against cooking one of her one-dish meal packets on her portable stove, choosing instead to eat nuts and dried fruit for dinner.

The rain splattered against her tent, then slammed into it in a deluge.

“Carly!”

Surprised to hear someone outside, she unzipped the partition partway. Jill stood in a rain slicker and handed her something.

“Heyo. I brought you a prezzy I thought you could use.”

Thunder rocked the trees behind as a zigzag of lightning flashed through the sky. Carly undid the zipper all the way and pulled Jill inside the cramped tent.

“Are you nuts? You shouldn’t have come out here in this!”

“This? This is nothing. One thing about weather and the trail—you can’t wait out the weather, or the weather will outwait you.”

“Huh?”

“Something Ted said. The weather always changes, and on a hike like this, you’re the one who has to conform. I’ve been in worse Down Under. Heatstroke and bush fires aren’t something you want to tangle with, though a small bush telly would come in handy right about now!” She shrugged, laughing. “I came to bring this. It’s exceptional for sore muscles.”

Carly unscrewed the top from the tube of ointment and flinched as the heavy menthol odor infiltrated her nose. “Oh! Between that and the bug repellent, I’ll be a candidate for the worst-smelling hiker on the trail. Then again, maybe I should patent the combination. I might have come up with a great new scent guaranteed to repel men—Keep Away.”

Carly laughed, and Jill shook her head at her silliness.

“It is bad, but you won’t regret using it. Ted won’t go on hikes without it.”

“Ted?” Carly’s picture of the strong, unflappable outdoors-man didn’t include an image of a man with aches and pains.

“Too right! For all his bluff and bluster, he’s oversensitive when it comes to sickness or pain. All men are, from what I’ve seen.” Jill winked and smiled, making Carly laugh. “But Ted is also one of the best mates I’ve known, an ace leader, and smart when the need arises. He may be gruff on the outside, but he’s really a big koala bear and one of the nicest blokes I know. I was filming the roos, and he swept me off my feet—after he smashed into my Jeep.”

“I remember months ago you told me the story of when you met in Australia, but I forgot all of it.”

“I was doing a nature film, a hobby I had, filming home movies, and out of nowhere Ted came barreling into my life. You should have seen him, Carly. At first I thought he had a few kangaroos loose in the top paddock.” She tapped her head. “He kept yabbering an apology, then invited me out to dinner. At first I steered clear—I thought he was a big galoot. But later I realized he wasn’t such a bad bloke, after all.”

“Too bad there aren’t more guys like Ted filling the earth,” Carly mused.

“Nate’s blood is worth bottling.” At Carly’s lost look, Jill laughed. “I mean he’s an ace bloke—and helpful, too.”

Carly shot her friend a warning look. “Not interested, and I really don’t think there are any ace blokes.” She realized her words might offend. “Well, except maybe Ted. But my uncle’s a loser, my dad—whoever he is—is a loser, and of course it goes without saying that Jake was.”

“You can’t generalize the entire male population into ‘loser’ status, Carly. It’s not fair to good men like Nate. Give him a fair go. Just as a good mate—a friend—nothing else.”

“Why should I? I’m not here to start a new relationship. I’m here to escape an old one. Partly. I also wanted to gather info for a book, but I told you about that. And that’s all I want, so please don’t try to hook us up.”

“I’m not suggesting that.” Jill let out a soft breath. “I understand your reasons, but I hate to see you close yourself off when someone as beaut as Nate is around.”

“Jill. . . ,” Carly said in warning.

“Okay.” Jill put her hand up as if making an oath. “Even though it goes against my wish to see two of the nicest people I know become good mates, I promise not to interfere.”

“Thank you.”

“I better get back before Ted thinks I made a boat and sailed away. Get some good sleep. Oh.” She stuck her hand in her pocket as if just remembering something and pulled out a handful of sweets. “Want some lollies?”

Carly took a cinnamon disk. “You’re going to get cavities with as much candy as you eat. I’m surprised you took up room to pack them.”

Jill left laughing, and Carly settled down for the night.

As the rain pummeled the weatherproof tent, she reflected on their conversation. Jill had vowed not to interfere, but remembering the tone of her voice, Carly became uneasy. Jill wasn’t the type to go back on her word, but Carly sensed her friend had something up her sleeve.

❧

Nate couldn’t figure Carly out. After the incident at the shelter, he resolved to steer clear of her. Yet as their second day on the trail progressed, he found himself watching her more than he should. Of course, since she was often the one to lag to the back of the line, that wasn’t hard to do.

The climb up Harmon Hill wasn’t so bad, and the clear view of the green valley refreshed them after all the rain, but from there, the trail made a steep descent by means of a natural stone staircase that seemed to go on forever. Another cross over Maple Hill and then another descent further challenged tired muscles.

Because of the shelter spacing and the need for water, they had to hike fourteen miles that day. After they’d been on the trail a number of hours, Nate could see Carly lagged even more, and he reduced his pace. He opened his mouth to ask if she needed a rest, then thought better of it. He felt relieved when Ted broke for lunch once they reached Hell Hollow Brook. An anomaly to its name, the water rushed clear and refreshing over smooth rocks of all shapes and sizes. Abundant fronds of tall greenery bordered the narrow brook, reaching almost to touch at the center in some points.

His friend looked as weary as the greenhorns to the trail, and Nate held back a chuckle. The first few days were always the toughest in hiking a trail like this one, but it satisfied Nate to see their robust and vital leader struggle with the same problems, since he had bullied them so.

“Guess that’s not a very Christian attitude,” he muttered to himself. “I shouldn’t wish upon my team leader the same pains we’re all having.”

Carly stopped and turned. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said, surprised she’d heard him. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to myself.”

She gave him a skeptical, accusing glance. He shook it off and took a seat beneath one of the maple trees on a smooth boulder, one of many that filled the trail. This one felt surprisingly comfortable. He took a long draw from his water bottle and squinted against the sunlight as he watched Carly take a spot yards away under another group of trees. Kim joined her, and Carly smiled, her attitude friendly.

At least she opened up to the other hikers, though Nate noticed she never went to them. They always came to her. As she tossed back her long dark hair, which she’d pulled out of a ponytail, and threaded her slim fingers through it, Nate dwelled on the enigma of Carly. Did she think herself too good for everyone, or was she shy? No, not shy. And with the amenable and laughing conversations he’d witnessed between her and Jill, her and Sierra, and now her and Kim, he didn’t think she thought herself superior to anyone, either. Yet for all that, she still seemed to hold herself aloof, as if she bore an invisible sign that said, Trespassers Will Be Shot. And she’d made it abundantly clear Nate fit into that category.

He shook his head, reconciled to the idea, and concentrated on tearing his teeth into his beef jerky while appreciating the scenery. Fog hovered above the trees in the distance. He hoped they wouldn’t get more rain.

Seeing the water in his bottle was low, Nate squatted down by the creek to refill it, dropped in a water purification tablet, and screwed the lid back on. Hearing a stir in the grasses behind him, Nate looked over his shoulder.

“Thought you had a good idea,” Ted explained, unscrewing his own water bottle. He struggled to get down so he could submerge the bottle, and winced. Nate felt bad about his earlier vengeful enjoyment that they were going through mutual aches and pains.

“Trail getting to you there, buddy?” he joked.

Ted snorted. “Don’t tell the others, but I’m not exactly as young as we were when we hiked it in high school.”

“Really? Never would have guessed. The way you were leaning on your walking stick, I just thought you were trying it out as a pole for a high jump.”

“Yeah, ha ha, very funny. I’ll be twenty-nine in a few weeks, but today I feel like fifty.”

“Twenty-nine isn’t so old.” Nate grinned. He was two years younger.

“Thanks,” Ted said dryly. “I guess it wouldn’t be so hard if Jill wasn’t wanting a kid so bad. I do, too, but not as much as she does.”

“Did you talk to a doctor? You said you were going to.”

“Yeah, both of us are okay. Not sure what the holdup is.”

“Well. . .” Nate used his walking stick to help him straighten. Today his shins burned like crazy. “You’re always telling me God’s plans don’t fit into our timetables, so maybe that’s all it is. It’s just not time yet.” He shifted his gaze to the right and felt a jolt of shock to see Carly staring at him. She looked away, back to Kim.

“Could be.” Ted straightened, following Nate’s gaze. Nate detected a smile in his voice. “You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to settle down. Plenty of nice girls in Vermont to choose from. Some right under your nose.”

Nate swung his head around to see Ted grinning at him like a maniacal Cheshire cat.

“Yeah, well, the interest has to work both ways. Don’t want anything one-sided.”

“Maybe it does.”

“What are you talking about?”

“What are you talking about?”

Nate wasn’t about to fall into that trap. “What I felt you were talking about.”

“Don’t you mean who I was talking about?” His focus went to Carly. “She’s a real looker; likes the outdoors, too. And you’re sharing the same trail for the next month. You couldn’t do better if she were hand-delivered to your door.”

Nate snorted. “Except for one small point.”

“What’s that?”

“She has no interest in me.”

“I doubt that.”

“What makes you think she does?”

“I’ve watched her watch you. People not interested don’t stare.”

Nate thought that over. “Maybe she’s plotting my demise.”

Ted grunted and rolled his eyes. “When did you get so stupid? You were always smart in school.”

Nate decided to let that one go. “What do you know about her?”

“Not much. She’s Jill’s friend—met her at a vegetable stand of all places. But she’s nice. And she’s had a rough time. Her ex-boyfriend did her wrong, but that’s all Jill told me. I think the real problem is that you represent the entire male community in her mind, and right now, she’s targeted man as her enemy.”

“I noticed that when she talks to you, she doesn’t look like she’s plotting where to hide your body.”

Ted laughed. “Yeah, but that’s because I’m spoken for. I don’t represent a threat to her. You do.”

“I try to be nice.”

“It has nothing to do with nice. You’re young, single, and out looking.”

“I am not out looking. I just broke up with Susan, remember. Or anyway, she broke up with me.”

“Buddy, before marriage, every man is out looking, whether he’ll admit it or not. You may not know you’re looking, but tell the truth. When you meet a girl who attracts you, isn’t one of the questions going through your mind, ‘I wonder if she’s the one?’ And I’ll bet you thought that about Carly, too.”

Nate didn’t want to admit Ted was right. At twenty-seven, with most of his former classmates married, he’d thought a lot about settling down. He’d wondered if Susan might be the one, before three months of getting to know her and discovering what she was like. From knowing Carly two days, he didn’t even need to ask the question. Without a doubt, she wasn’t the one for him. They couldn’t exchange a few sentences without her thinking he harbored ulterior motives.

“I think maybe you need something more than water purifier tablets,” Nate muttered. “Some microorganism must have gone to your brain and made you a little nuts.”

“Mark my words,” Ted said, walking away with a chuckle. “By this time next year, you may just be asking me to be your best man.”

“Make that a lot nuts,” Nate called after him as he walked behind Ted.

“You want some nuts?” Jill asked, coming up to him. “I’ve got chocolate-covered peanuts.”

“Thanks.” Too embarrassed to correct her as to what he meant, Nate accepted a handful and ignored Ted, who was laughing so hard he sounded as if he might come apart at the seams.