Page 31 of Wild Child
So what was there to panic about?
“I don’t know if it needs to be pointed out," I said, "but I’ve learned my lesson after not telling you everything I should have. I appreciate clear communication more than ever, so I’m going to say what's on my mind. Hope that's okay.”
My words broke the silence, which had been slightly strained. Her knuckles tightened on the steering wheel and her face illuminated with the bouncing glow of the headlights behind us. With her hair pulled back on her head in a messy bun, she reminded me of high school all over again.
When she said nothing, I continued.
“I’m not here to cause problems or be the man in charge or whatever else. You’re in charge. I’ll do what you ask, and I’ll give my thoughts when you ask. Other than that, I’m here to keep any idiots from doing idiotic things. Is there anything else you want to add to my list of responsibilities?”
Her fingers loosened.
“No.”
“Anything you want to say?”
She cast me a sidelong glance. “I’ve already decided on a route, itinerary, and some options for camping. Steve looks kind of . . . not ready for this . . . so I don’t know how far we’ll get at first, but we can work with that. Daniel already gave Kimball a tent and did his usual lecture on packing. I’m not sure about Steve.”
My teeth ached from clenching so hard.
"You don’t have to be silent," she continued. "You can make suggestions or help. I just . . . I need this to convince Daniel that I could take more of these guides. This is my chance to get into guiding bigger adventures with more options. This first one has to prove my skill.”
“Got it.”
She opened her mouth to speak again, then closed it. “Thank you.”
I nodded, and we stopped talking. Darkness passed on either side of us in flashes of vague trees and creeks. Ellie drove us into a north-south canyon that would soon turn to a dirt road. An hour of winding hills that vaguely followed a river would take us to a turn-off that few people knew about. Then we’d drive on a vague two-track, let the trucks go as far as they could, and hike into a beautiful, lush meadow that afforded a striking view of the still-snowy peaks. I reached for my left shoulder. No tightness. I’d walked around with the pack for half an hour last night, and the injury hadn’t flared up.
A good sign.
As easy as Ellie’s plan sounded—and as simple as I knew the terrain to be because Ellie and I had been there several times before—I doubted it would go well. My natural optimism had faded dramatically over the last three years.
Deployments had a way of shoving you into reality.
Ellie would get her reality soon enough. These men weren't here to prove her as a guide. They wouldn't want to hike the way she'd probably very meticulously planned. I was here to make sure she ended this trip safely, even if the end result didn’t meet her expectations. I couldn’t give her much these days.
But I could give her that.
9
Ellie
The scent of pine thickened the air when we rolled to a stop at the edge of a two-track road. Light warmed the far edge of the sky, washing the clouds overhead in pink, but the sun hadn't risen above the peaks yet.
A trail hidden in the trees wound through foothills and ridges for a couple of miles, then would end on a secluded mountain meadow. We’d camp there for the night. It would keep us off the road and away from other hikers.
“Want me to hide the keys under the truck when they aren’t looking?” Dev asked, one hand on the doorknob. “Like we used to?”
“Oh, no.” I fingered the keys against my palm, ready to jump out of the cab. “We can take them with us. That’s what . . . it’s what I do now. I don’t leave them with the truck like we did when we were teenagers.”
“Right.” He nodded once, as if pretending we both didn’t feel totally awkward that something he’d taught me hadn’t carried through. “Got it.”
Devin slipped out of the truck, and I followed suit. Kimball hurried out of his SUV with a smile, then stepped back to study his door. He rubbed a few spots off the paint with his palm, seemed relieved nothing had been permanently marred, and headed for the back. Steve followed him without saying anything.
"Devin and I will walk at the back," I said to them as they finished strapping on their packs. "That allows you to set the pace so it's not too strenuous. We'll follow a trail for four or five miles before an incline at the end, so go at whatever pace will preserve your energy. We can decide what you want to do after that."
Kimball squinted as he peered into the foliage, which still held onto shadows. Next to me, Devin adjusted his pack on his shoulders.
"Sounds good," Kimball finally said. "Steve, you take the lead."
