Page 72 of The Lost Book of First Loves

“I don’t know. He really aches for her.”

“Intriguing.”

She stood up. “Okay. I’m ready.”

“Do you have sunglasses and a hat? You might want them. The sun can be fierce at higher elevations. People don’t always expect it, especially when the air is relatively cool.”

“I have sunglasses. But I’m afraid a hat wasn’t among the things Ali was kind enough to help me pack before we left Seattle,” she admitted. “I didn’t think of it and I guess she didn’t, either.”

“I brought an extra just in case, a new one I haven’t had the chance to shape to my head yet.”

“Thanks.”

He opened the door to his pickup for her then helped her up into the seat before letting the dog into the back seat, who settled in and promptly fell asleep.

The scent of Beck surrounded her and she found herself back in his house, reliving that moment when she thought he wanted to kiss her.

“How did you and Carson become friends?” she asked after he pulled away from the cabin and headed down the driveway toward the road. “From reading the journals, he strikes me as a complicated man who didn’t make friends easily.”

“You’re right about that. He didn’t trust people very easily.”

“Why you?”

“I can’t answer that. I wasn’t in a good place when I came here. I was a mess, if you want the truth. Drunk most of the time and angry the rest of the time. I didn’t want to be around myself. Not sure why anyone else would. That didn’t seem to matter to Carson. He came around every day to check on me.”

“That’s taking being a good neighbor a little far,” she said.

“Definitely. But Ali had just graduated from high school and left for college and I think Carson was looking for a project. Unfortunately—or fortunately, depending on your perspective—he found me.”

“You miss him,” she observed.

He gave a short laugh. “Every damn day.”

They fell into a companionable silence as he drove under the ranch arch and turned north. After only a few miles, he turned off onto a dirt road.

“I thought we were hiking. How far do we have to drive?” she asked as the truck bumped through a couple of ruts.

“Not far. The trailhead is about a mile in.”

A short distance later, he pulled into a small clearing and she saw a Forest Service sign for Mary’s Lake.

He let the dog out and Hank immediately ran to a small creek near the trailhead and took a big drink while Beck loaded up her sweatshirt, water bottle and their sandwiches into his day pack then handed her a red baseball cap.

It was obviously far too big for her head, but he made a couple of adjustments until it fit exactly right.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

He whistled for the dog, who came at once, and the three of them headed off through a trail that wound uphill among a meadow dotted with wildflowers.

“After this first slight incline, it’s mostly level, I promise,” Beck assured her.

June nodded. It wasn’t a big grade, maybe only ten degrees, but it felt more daunting than any of the much bigger hills in her neighborhood back in Seattle.

She felt the beginnings of panic fluttering through her. She shouldn’t be doing this. What if she collapsed here?

He seemed to guess her thoughts with uncanny accuracy. He grinned at her. “Don’t worry. If you have another cardiac event, I am fully prepared to give you mouth-to-mouth.”

His teasing words did exactly what she knew he intended. They made her smile, which helped the panic recede a little.

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