Page 17 of Tracked By the Mountain Man
"I'm okay," I assure him during one of our water breaks. "Better than okay. It feels right, being here with you."
"Even knowing what happened here?"
"Especially knowing what happened here." I look around at the familiar landscape, the towering pines, the distant peaks, the network of trails that I now know like a beloved neighborhood. "This is where you found me. Where you saved me."
"You saved yourself," Tyler corrects, as he always does. "I just provided navigation assistance."
We continue climbing, and I find myself remembering that first terrifying day. How lost I'd felt, how broken. How Tyler had appeared like some kind of mountain guardian, steady and sure and exactly what I needed.
When we reach the meadow where we shared our first kiss, Tyler calls for a longer rest. He spreads out a small blanket and unpacks sandwiches, along with a thermos of the good strong coffee. Ranger sniffs around, inspecting every blade of grass within earshot, he knows not to wander too far.
"Fancy," I tease, settling beside him on the blanket.
"Anniversary picnic," he says, but there's tension in his manner now, a nervousness I rarely see in my usually unflappable mountain man.
"Tyler, are you okay?"
"Leah." He turns to face me fully, and I see emotion in his eyes that makes my breath catch. "This past year has been the best of my life."
"Mine too," I say softly.
"When I found you on that overlook, I thought I was just doing my job. Another rescue, another lost hiker to guide back to safety." His hand finds mine, fingers interlacing. "I had no idea you were going to rescue me right back. You brought me back to life, Leah. You made me remember what it feels like to love someone, to want to build a future with them. You turned my solitary existence into a home."
My heart is pounding now, because I recognize the tone, the careful preparation of his words. "What are you saying?"
Instead of answering with words, Tyler reaches into his pack and pulls out a small velvet box. My breath stops entirely as he slides off the blanket and onto one knee beside me.
"I'm saying I want to spend the rest of my life finding new trails to explore with you. I want to wake up every morning in our cabin and fall asleep every night with you in my arms. I want to help you heal other families the way we healed each other." He opens the box to reveal a stunning ring. "Leah Walsh, will you marry me?"
The tears come immediately, hot and joyful. "Yes," I manage through my sobs. "Yes, of course, yes."
Tyler's hands shake slightly as he slides the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly, like everything else about us. When he stands and pulls me into his arms, kissing me with the passion and tenderness that first drew me to him, I taste salt on both our faces.
"I love you," I whisper against his mouth. "I love you so much it scares me sometimes."
"Good scared or bad scared?" he asks with a smile.
"Good scared. The kind Katie would approve of."
At the mention of my sister, Tyler's expression grows soft. "I have another surprise for you."
He reaches into his pack again and pulls out a small wrapped package. Inside is a silver picture frame holding a photo I've never seen before—Katie on the trail, grinning at the camera with pure joy.
"I had it printed from her camera files," Tyler explains. "Thought she should be part of this moment."
The gesture breaks me open in the best possible way. I clutch the photo to my chest, feeling Katie's presence like a warm embrace. "She would have loved you," I tell Tyler through my tears. "She would have said you were exactly the kind of adventure I needed."
"Think she'd approve of the proposal location?"
I look around at the meadow where we first connected, where Tyler helped me understand that grief could coexist with love, that healing didn't mean forgetting. "I think she'd say it was perfect."
We pack up our picnic and continue the short distance to Devil's Thumb overlook. Standing at the edge where Tyler first found me, I feel no fear, only gratitude. This place that oncerepresented my lowest moment has become sacred ground—the beginning of the greatest love story of my life.
"Thank you," I say, looking out at the vast wilderness that's become our shared home. "For finding me. For saving me. For loving me enough to let me save you back."
Tyler wraps his arms around me from behind, and we stand together watching the sun begin its descent toward the western peaks. Below us, Darkmore spreads out in the valley, smoke rising from chimneys, lights beginning to twinkle in windows. Our community, our life, our future.
"Ready to go plan a wedding?" Tyler asks.
