Page 73 of The Lost Book of First Loves

“You can do this,” Beck said.

“How do you know what I can or can’t do?” she asked crossly.

“From everything Ali tells me she learned about you in Seattle, you don’t give up. Someone who ran track in college and was considering training for a marathon is tough enough to handle anything.”

She would be fine. Dr. Singh had said she could return to regular activities as she felt able. He had also told her to trusther implanted defibrillator to handle another episode if she had one.

She let out a breath while Hank came up beside her, as if lending her his strength.

After a pause, she continued up the trail with Beck behind her and the dog still at her side.

She used to be able to run sprints all day and still have energy after track practice to run another three or four miles back to her apartment. Would that ever come back?

“Let’s stop here for a minute,” Beck said when they reached an area of the trail that leveled off, as he had promised it would. “I could use a drink.”

He spoke in a calm, steady voice that somehow made her want to cry. She knew he didn’t need a rest. He was taking things slow because of her.

She ought to be mortified. Instead, she could only manage gratitude. He handed her water bottle over and gestured to a large boulder. She leaned against it and sipped at her water bottle as birds flitted through the evening shadows and a squirrel chittered from the treetops, drawing Hank’s immediate attention.

“It’s so peaceful here. I can see why you love it.”

“Like so many things in life, it’s worth a little climb.”

She nodded, breathing in the mountain air and the scent of sage and pine and wildflowers.

After a moment, she handed back her water bottle. “Okay. Let’s push on.”

“Are you sure you’re up to it? We’re not in any hurry. We can go as slowly as you want.”

“I should be okay.”

They walked through thick Douglas fir and aspen, the undergrowth overflowing with wildflowers.

He was right; it wasn’t a long hike. After perhaps fifteen minutes of walking, she started to catch glimpses of color through the trees. Finally, they rounded a bend and she had to catch her breath.

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “You were absolutely right. It’s stunning.”

Mary’s Lake wasn’t very large, perhaps a hundred yards across and twice that long, but the color was a brilliant blue, like the mountain bluebirds she had seen in the trees around the cabin. Steep, jagged mountains rose up on three sides of it, enclosing it in its own small valley.

“It was originally a glacier-fed lake and is now filled by the summer runoff and a couple of small springs coming out of the mountains.”

“It’s beautiful. I’m glad I had the chance to see it.”

“Wait until sunset,” he said. “That shouldn’t be long now. Have a seat.”

He pointed to a fallen log, bark removed long ago by the elements, that formed a natural bench. She sat down on one end and he took the other, handing over her water bottle again.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.

“Like I said, sunsets are really stunning here, but they come early because of the mountains. Once the sun goes down below them, it can get dark pretty fast.”

“Will we be able to find our way back?”

“I brought along a couple of headlamps for us as well as flashlights. We’ll be fine.”

She trusted him, an astonishing realization for someone who didn’t let people into her life easily. Given her initial hostility toward him, she wasn’t sure at what point the shift had happened. The truth was she hardly knew the man.

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