Page 20 of Wild About the Mountain Guide
But first, just for another minute, I let myself look at her peaceful face and imagine what it would be like if this were real. If we were here together by choice, not circumstance. If I were brave enough to tell her how fond I’ve become of her.
The fantasy is sweet and painful at the same time, and I know I’m in deeper trouble than I’ve ever been in my life.
Chapter Nine
Peyton
I wake up feeling more rested than I have any right to after lying on a flimsy sleeping pad all night. For a moment, I’m disoriented. This isn’t my tent, and someone is breathing nearby. Then it all comes rushing back. The tent. Knox. The way I somehow ended up with my hand…
Oh, God. Did I reach for his hand in my sleep? The memory is fuzzy, dreamlike, but I have this distinct feeling that at some point during the night, our fingers were touching. My cheeks burn with embarrassment, but underneath that is something else entirely: a warm flutter of happiness that I can’t quite suppress.
Knox is already awake, quietly packing his gear. When he notices me stirring, he gives me a soft smile that makes my pulse skip.
“Morning,” he says, his voice still rough with sleep. “Sleep okay?”
“Yeah, actually. Really well.” I sit up, trying to finger-comb my hair into something resembling normal. “Thanks again for sharing your tent. I promise I’m not usually such a disaster.”
“Stop apologizing, Peyton. Besides, you weren’t a disaster at all.”
Something in his tone makes me wonder if he noticed that we held hands while sleeping, but before I can analyze it, he’s already ducking out of the tent. I follow a few minutes later, after attempting to make myself look presentable.
The morning air is crisp and clean, and the others are already moving around the campsite. Harmony takes one look at me as I emerge from Knox’s tent and raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing at her lips.
“Well, well,” she says, stirring something that smells like instant coffee over the camp stove. “How did you sleep with Knox right beside you? You certainly look happy.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “It was fine,” I say, glancing at Knox, who’s pretending to be very interested in the bark of a nearby tree. “Just fine.”
It was more than fine, but I need to play it cool.
“Mmm-hmm,” Harmony hums, clearly not buying my casual tone. “That’s not what your aura is telling me, babe.”
“My aura can’t be trusted.”
“An aura as strong as yours never lies,” she replies before focusing back on her coffee.
I busy myself with packing my gear, trying to ignore the way Knox keeps stealing glances at me, and how those glances make me feel all nervous and warm. Christine joins us for breakfast, something called “mountain scramble” that’s surprisingly edible for dehydrated camping food, and the conversation moves to today’s route.
“We’ll be crossing Maple Creek this morning,” Knox explains, pulling out his map. “Water’s running pretty fast from the snowmelt, so we’ll need to be careful. Everyone stays roped together, and we take our time.”
Brandon looks up from his phone, frowning. “My GPS says there’s a bridge about half a mile upstream.”
Knox shakes his head. “That bridge washed out last season. Trust me, I know this trail better than any app.”
“But the satellite imagery—”
“Is probably outdated,” Knox says patiently. “This is why we don’t rely on technology out here. The mountains change faster than the maps can keep up with. And if I remember correctly, you were going to try and use less tech, right?”
Brandon nods and tucks his devices away. “You’re right. Force of habit.”
Alex and Alexandra, who’ve been sharing a single bowl of oatmeal and taking turns feeding each other, look up with matching worried expressions. Luckily, her sprained ankle seems to be in way better shape after a night of rest. The swelling has gone down, and she moves much more easily.
“Is it dangerous?” she asks.
“Not if we’re smart about it,” Knox assures them. “I’ll go first, test the current and the footing. Peyton, you’ll come right behind me.”
My stomach does a little flip at being singled out, but I nod. After last night, after whatever that was between us, I trust him completely.
An hour later, we’re standing at the edge of Maple Creek, and it’s more intimidating than I expected. The water is crystal clear but moving fast, probably knee-deep in the middle, with smooth rocks on the bottom that look as slippery as ice.
