Page 53 of Holiday Cheese and Capers
“You’re not responsible for anything that happened then, and you won’t be responsible for anything that happens now.” He touched her arm gently. “Exandra? There’s no going back. Only forward.”
“Why?” she demanded. She pulled him aside, dragging him farther down the riverbank. They sat to talk while Carlos assembled the gear for the next stretch of the hike. “Why are we doing this, Bay? Why are we both here on this cruise, pretendingto be on a case, and why are you risking hurting yourself again in a gorge? Just tell me why!”
“Why do you think?” Bayard looked deep into her cool blue eyes.
“I haven’t the foggiest idea.” Exandra wrung her hands.
“Because obviously I still love you, you big, beautiful, purple-haired bruiser!” The words burst out of Bayard and echoed off the canyon walls. He clapped a hand over his mouth, surprised at his own volume. A moment later, he continued, a bit more quietly. “Exandra, I’ve loved you since we were barely more than kids. I was starstruck when I met you. And I’ve been your biggest fan for over ninety years. I may not have been out in the field with you, but I’ve always been there watching, behind the scenes. I’ve wanted to tell you how I felt a thousand times. But I was always too scared. Afraid you’d pity me or feel guilty or awkward because you don’t feel the same way anymore. Or maybe you never did. I kept waiting for the perfect moment to say something. But that moment never happened and when I retired, and I realized I was out of moments, I panicked! I invented the Culture Vulture because I thought it would give me an excuse to keep seeing you.”
Exandra stared at him, eyes wide and bright.
“But I’m done waiting for perfect moments and making excuses, Exxie. I think I’m doing this now,” he continued, his voice coarse, “because I need to prove it to both of us that I’m not broken. I’m still the man you might have loved if I hadn’t?—”
“Shut up! I do love you, you fool,” Exandra croaked. She waved a hand in front of her face, attempting to shoo away tears as if they were flies. “I’ve always loved you, Bay. And I couldn’t care less if you walk with a limp or if you walk at all. I just can’t stand thethought of hurting you. Because if anything else happens to you because of me, I don’t know what I’d do.”
“You’re not going to lose me here, in waist-deep water.” Bayard laughed softly. “You heard Carlos’s spiel. He’s never lost anyone in the gorge. And he’s not going to lose anyone today. But I think I do need you to hike through that canyon with me. We both need to do this. Together.”
“Are you two coming or not?” Carlos called out to them, diplomatically pretending he hadn’t heard their entire confession.
Exandra studied Bayard. His hair was white, and he had a cane gripped tight in one hand. But he was every bit the same man she’d fallen in love with as a young trainee. She trusted him. She knew he knew what he was doing and for the first time in almost a century, she trusted he didn’t need her protection so much as her partnership.
“All right,” she whispered. “Let’s go. I’ll be right beside you.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The water was shockingly,teeth chatteringly cold. The kind of cold that took your breath away and made it difficult to speak.
They entered the canyon single file. Carlos went first, then Bayard, then Exandra. The current grasped at them with frozen fingers, trying to trip them up and sweep them all downstream.Bayard gripped the carved handholds in the rock wall with one hand and braced himself with the cane in the other, moving slowly but steadily.
“You’re doing great,” Carlos called back. “Just keep moving. Don’t stop.”
The canyon narrowed further. The walls pressed in on either side, and the water rose to their waists, then somewhat unexpectedly, it kept rising to their chests.
“I am sorry!” Carlos called out. “It’s higher than I thought. There is no turning back here. We must keep moving.”
Bayard held his cane above his head to keep it from being swept away.
Exandra stayed right behind him, one hand always reaching out, ready to catch him if he slipped.
But he didn’t slip. He moved with caution and precision, testing each handhold and foothold before fully committing his weight.
They rounded a corner and the current strengthened, surging against them with truly frightening force.
“This is the worst of it. There’s a pool ahead,” Carlos bellowed, making himself heard above the rushing water. “You must swim for about fifteen feet. The current’s strong, but aim for the rock outcropping on the left. You can climb out there.”
Bayard nodded, took a breath, and pushed off.
He swam with strong, sure strokes. His leg might be weaker, but his arms were powerful from years of using his cane, and he made it across the pool with only minor course correction.
Exandra followed, her superior strength making it look easy.
They climbed out onto the rock outcropping, dripping and panting.
“One more short section,” Carlos said, “and we’re through.”
They continued on. The walls narrowed even more, barely shoulder-width now. The water churned around their legs. The sound was deafening—rushing water, echoing off stone, filling the world with noise.
And then suddenly, almost unexpectedly, they were through it. The claustrophobic canyon opened up into a much wider area with pools of calm, shallow water, and sunlight streaming down from above.
