Page 41 of Cherry Picked
“Always, when I’m hiking or camping alone. And fresh batteries. And I know the proper channels,” I said before he could ask.
“Pfft. I didn’t doubt it for a second.” He shoved his hair off his forehead. “But, you know, if by some chance you were to discover youdidn’thave fresh batteries, you might find some tucked into the bottom of that second sleeping bag.”
I laughed out loud, and it unknotted something deep in my chest that made me stand and throw my arms around Webb’s waist. “Thanks.”
“Always.” He gave me a quick hug, then hesitated before turning and walking down the trail. “If you talk to Jack, you don’t need to mention that I was here, okay?”
“Jack?” I frowned. “Why would he care?”
Webb rolled his eyes. “He may have given me a little come-to-Jesus conversation earlier after you left the diner. Pointed out some truths about you being a fully grown adult. About how maybe we need to take steps to protect this land.” He lifted his face to the treetops, where the last of the golden hour sunlight glinted off the shivering leaves.
“He did?” I demanded. “Are you kidding?”
Webb gave me a level look. “Don’t look so surprised. I tried to smooth things over after you stormed out, and he wouldn’t have it. Told me you had every reason to feel the way you feel and was ready to throw down with me if I dared to criticize you.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Jack cares about you an awful lot, huh?”
“Yeah,” I agreed, but the word came out sounding defeated. That Jack cared about me wasn’t in doubt. He just cared about lots of other thingsmore, like his friendship with Webb, and the difference in our ages, and the fact that, for no reason I could understand, he wasn’t interested in a committed relationship while insisting that I needed one.
“Anyway, don’t tell him I came, or he’ll assume it was because ofhim.” Webb winked. “He may have made some valid points, but I don’t want him to get a swollen head over it. Later, Hawklet.” He saluted me as he headed down the trail.
“Asshole,” I called out with a laugh.
A crunch from behind me caught my attention, and when I whirled around, I saw Simon hiking down the trail from higher up on the peak. He gave me a frown. “Hawk? Were you talking to me?”
“N-no. My brother. Sorry.” My face heated.
I’d literally just told Webb that I needed to be alone to have time to think—especially since Webb and Crys had just given me wildly conflicting advice—but somehow, my isolated camping area had become Grand Central Station.
“Thank goodness. I was hoping I hadn’t earned the moniker before even saying hello.” Simon blew out a sigh of relief and smiled.
It was a nice smile, with even, white teeth that set off a little bit of a tan he’d acquired since the last time I’d seen him. Though he was dressed for hiking in a pair of Salomon boots and a Patagonia zip-up jacket, his hair was perfectly combed and he didn’t look sweaty or tired at all. In fact, he looked like a poster model for healthy living.
“I can’t imagine anyone yelling at you,” I said, shifting my weight from one foot to the other awkwardly. “Were you hiking up at the peak? Was it for Evola stuff?”
He shrugged. “One of our crews brought some surveying equipment to the back side of the mountain, and I hitched a ride as far as that old, rickety footbridge over the creek—”
“Friendly Footbridge is a protected local historical site,” I informed him. “JP Friendly paintedDespair of Honestyon that bridge in 1913.” I frowned. “You know motorized vehicles are prohibited except in specifically designated areas, right? Rocky Cut is way too steep, and the other trails on the north side far too narrow for anything with wheels, and you’d end up damaging vegetation. There are penalties, including imprisonment and fines of up to—”
“Whoa, hey! Do I look like the kind of person who’d violate posted signage?” Simon pressed a hand to his chest and grinned, the very picture of innocence.
“I guess not,” I admitted. At the very least, he was smart enough not to confess to it if he had.
“Anyway, I brought my pack so I could head up to the summit once I was off the clock and stretch my legs a bit. Took some pictures for the website, too. I hadn’t expected to run into anyone, though, especially you.” He looked around my campsite. “Are you staying up here?”
“For a little while, yeah.” I dragged out the sleeping bag Webb had brought and spread it out flat. “Have a seat if you’d like.”
“Maybe for a minute.” He sat down with a tired little groan, which made him seem immediately more human. “This area’s beautiful.”
“It is.” I settled myself down on the other side of the sleeping bag. “Which is one of the reasons I care so much about preserving it.”
He nodded but kept his mouth shut, which helped me relax even more. Had he tried arguing with me or defending Evola’s position, my hackles would have stood right up.
After a moment, he said, “I really admire you. This is a brave thing you’re doing. Standing up for something you believe in without being destructive or disruptive is mature and conscientious.”
I stared at him, feeling a little like I’d stumbled into an alternate reality. First, my brother had called me brave, and now Simon, too? That wasn’t a word I normally associated with myself, but it was pretty nice all the same.
“Thanks,” I said softly. “That means a lot.”
“You know, you didn’t reply to my text last night. And you never did get in touch with me about hiking.” Simon shot me a look under his eyelashes. “I couldn’t decide if that meant you were busy today or… busyforever.”
