He knew Hope wasnt a no-strings type, and he hadnt cared. He hadnt cared about her name, or her profession, or her feelings.
And the way hed acted afterwardJesus. He couldnt get rid of her fast enough.
Since then, hed tried not to think about her. Hed convinced himself that she wasnt special; any woman would feel fantastic after a long stint of abstinence. She wasnt beautiful; hed had beer goggles on.
Hed really been kidding himself.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watched her bite into the apple. Her white teeth pierced the fruits ruddy skin. She was flushed from the hike, dewy with perspiration, her tank top plastered to her chest. No, he didnt need alcohol to find her attractive.
How do you know Owen? she asked.
Owen?
Owen Jackson.
He blinked a few times to dispel the sexual voodoo. We met in San Diego during the earthquake.
She arched a curious brow, crunching on another bite of apple. He hadnt spoken to the media about the incident, but it was widely reported that hed almost died in a freeway collapse. You were in a coma.
Most of the time, he agreed. A group of us were trapped in the rubble. Owen used my climbing equipment to get out and find help.
Really?
Yes.
And now youre friends?
Sam wouldnt go that far. Even his close friends didnt talk to him anymore, and he avoided his family. Hed alienated everyone who loved him. Were friendly enough, he said. Why do you ask?
I was just wondering.
Has he given you any trouble?
No. He works hard.
He seems like a good kid, he said, shrugging. I owed him one, and I thought he deserved a second chance.
She nodded, finishing her lunch.
It occurred to him that she might be interested in Owen as a man. The kid was in his early twenties, but prison had matured him beyond his years. Although he had some issues, he wasnt half as screwed up as Sam.
How old are you? he asked, suspicious.
Twenty-eight.
He let out the breath hed been holding. Most park rangers were college graduates, and she was hardly jailbait. You look younger.
How old are you?
Thirty-two.
You look older.
He acknowledged this truth with a wry smile. Even before grief and illness ravaged him, the sun had stripped any hint of youth from his skin. I owe you an apology, he said, surprising them both.
She almost choked on a mouthful of water. For what?
I...wasnt myself that night.
Who were you?
I dont know.
Hope didnt seem impressed by this nonexplanation.
The way I reacted was rude, he said, feeling lousy. Im sorry. I could have handled it better.
She still looked skeptical, and he couldnt blame her. There was no polite way to tell the woman you just had sex with to get out of your house. He shouldnt have brought it up; his behavior was inexcusable.
Lets just forget about it, she said, forcing a smile.
Sam wasnt relieved that shed let him off the hook. On the contrary, her words plucked a painful chord inside him. Hed never forget anything on purpose. Every memory hed been able to retain was precious to him.
She rose to her feet and brushed off the seat of her pants.
Do you want me to carry your pack?
No, Im okay.
As they continued toward Angel Wings, the silence became increasingly uncomfortable. His apology, though sincere, hadnt cleared the air. If anything, it made the situation worse. Tension swirled between them, thicker than ever.
The last two miles of the path were the most challenging. He didnt want to exhaust her before the climb, so he let her walk in front of him. This way she could set her own pace, rather than struggle to keep up.
Her other physical attributes were just as fine as her face. She had an athletic build, taut and toned, but not skinny. She was curvy in all the right places. Her cropped jogging pants clung to her slender thighs and cute ass. She had long, graceful arms. If she climbed with as much gusto as she did everything else, theyd have no problems reaching the summit.
Sam wasnt looking forward to the ascent. He didnt partner anymore. Not with men at his skill level, not with women at any level. The idea gave him hives. He didnt want to hold Hopes life in his hands.
Angel Wings rose in the distance, a massive wall of pale gray granite. This angel had dirty wings, feathering high into the sky. Mighty Valhalla stood directly across from her. Both monoliths had smooth faces, ribbed with cracks and handholds, etched by ancient glaciers. It was the stuff of climbers dreams.
Hope stopped and flashed a smile, more genuine than the one shed offered earlier. Which route did you take up Valhalla?
He fell into step beside her, following her gaze to the wall. There were five or six charted routes with fixed pitons. Climbers could follow a trail that had already been blazed, or strike out on their own. North Arete.
The smile fell off her face. You free-soloed North Arete?
Yes.
Thats impossible.
He didnt argue. It was the most difficult route on Valhalla, and a challenging free solo, but hardly impossible.
It hasnt been done. Not even in the daytime.
I did it.
She squinted into the distance. How?
He rotated the elastic band on his wrist, uncomfortable. A climbing feat didnt exist without a witness, so there was nothing to brag about. Glory and record-breaking no longer appealed to him. Never mind.
But clearly, she did mind. You free-soloed a 5.12 route in the middle of the night? Are you crazy?
Maybe. Probably. Yes.
Next youll tell me you BASE-jumped off the top.
He smiled at her horrified expression. Thats illegal.
So is backcountry hiking without a permit, she said, her dark eyes flashing.
I dont free-BASE, he said. Some young daredevils were combining free-solo climbing with BASE jumping. Sam wasnt tempted. He liked the freedom of climbing without gear; the sensation of falling just made him nauseated.
Id arrest you in a heartbeat if you did.
Oddly, this conversation thrilled him more than the risky climb. He pushed the limits because he felt dead inside. Although he still had some capacity for fear, hed lost his sense of self-preservation.
What hed retained, in overabundant amounts, was concern for others. He couldnt belay a partner without anticipating a fall. His intense anxiety interfered with his love for the sport. He didnt want to be responsible for another climber. Often, he didnt trust the gear. Solo-climbing had become his only solace.
Partnering with Hope would be excruciating.
Why did you report the accident, instead of checking it out? she asked.
What do you mean?
You could have climbed up to investigate the crash.
Before contacting park authorities? Thats against rescue protocol.
Youre a rule-breaker. Weve already established that.
He scowled, guilty as charged. I was afraid of what Id find.
Survivors?
Corpses.
She tilted her head to one side, deliberating. I suppose you saw a lot of those in San Diego.
Survivors?
Corpses.
She tilted her head to one side, deliberating. I suppose you saw a lot of those in San Diego.
He didnt want to talk about it. Have you ever done a 5.11?
Yes, she said, moving her attention from him to the wall. Ive climbed this one.
Which section?
South Ridge.
With a partner?
She nodded.
Okay. I know that route, too.
They checked and rechecked the gear. He gave her a pop quiz on ropes and knots, pleased to find her proficient. Most of the prep was second nature to him. He could tie an eight in his sleep.
At noon, they were ready. It was the hottest part of the day, near ninety degrees on the rock face, but a pleasant breeze drifted through the canyon. Sam did the lead climbing and Hope followed, steady as it goes. Although she was a natural athlete and a fair climber, he couldnt relax while she was in motion. Every time she reached for a new handhold, he held his breath. Disaster seemed imminent. Images of her plummeting to her death swarmed his vision. He saw frayed ropes, broken harnesses...cracked skulls.
Melissas ashes.
Sam knew better than anyone else that climbing was mental. The sport required intense concentration, a quiet mind and a positive outlook. Fear would literally kill you on the rock face. If he didnt rein it in, he might endanger Hope.
Luckily, he was experienced enough to know the difference between foreboding and phobia. Climbers were a superstitious lot. They followed their instincts, weighing risks in a fraction of a second. Only a fool ignored his internal warning system. But Sams reaction was based on psychological trauma, not the situation at hand.
Hope could do this.
Besides, abandoning the effort would have grave consequences. Shed have to find another partner, maybe even wait until morning. While any possible survivors battled the elements on top of the mountain after the temperature plummeted.
Sam tried to tamp down his fear, but it wasnt easy. He didnt get scared that often, and he wasnt accustomed to dealing with it. Hed become soft, in a way. Apathetic. Caring about life or death required effort.
Oblivious of his struggle, Hope continued to climb. She was confident, but cautious, spending too much time thinking about every move. Time dragged out into an eternity. He had to bite his tongue to keep from criticizing the flaws in her technique. She wasnt an expert and it showed.
A few years ago, Sam had been an easygoing partner who enjoyed initiating newcomers to the sport. Now he was quickly frustrated, his body humming with impatience. The type of climber he used to loathe.
To her credit, Hope stayed positive and kept a smile on her face. He began to suspect that she was doing it just to annoy him. When she made a minor misstep and almost lost her grip, he swore up at the sky.
His negative attitude made an impact on her near the top. She came to a wide gap about ten feet away from her last placement. A fall from this distance could be dangerous, whether the gear held or not. Even during short drops, climbers could get tangled in ropes, crack their heads against the rock and break bones.
If the gear failed, death was certain.
Her footing looked off as she stretched out her arm. He muttered another curse, and she must have heard it, because she spooked. Instead of committing to the reach, she second-guessed herself and faltered. Her questing fingertips found no purchase, and her foothold crumbled.
With a sharp cry, she tumbled backward, her arms and legs flailing. Her harness caught and held, jerking her body roughly.
Sam braced himself against the rock and listened for the sound of gear popping, his blood thundering in his ears. To his intense relief, the protection bore her weight as she dangled in midair, a thousand feet from the ground. He held the safety rope, her last lifeline, clenched in his trembling hands.
She grasped the rope that attached them, staring up at him with frantic eyes. He let out a slow breath, his heart hammering against his ribs. Theyd get through this a lot easier if she didnt look down.
Are you okay? he asked.
She moistened her lips. Im okay.
Reach out to the wall.
Her gear was keeping her safe, not his gaze, but she seemed reluctant to look away.
Ive got you.
After a short hesitation, she straightened, focusing on the rock face. She let go of the rope with one hand and touched the wall with the other. The tip of her shoe found an overhang, and her fingertips gripped a small fissure. She flattened her belly against the sun-drenched surface and paused there, as if soaking up its spirit.
After a moment of communing with the climbing gods, she made her way up. The final push went by in a blur. Before he knew it, they were at the summit. With Sams help, she scrambled over the edge.
He studied their surroundings, breathing hard. The top of Angel Wings was jagged, with dips and crags, like the surface of a tooth. He couldnt see the remains of a plane, but there were hints of its trajectory. Burned-up bits of fuselage marred the landscape.
Sam pulled up their haul bag while she rested, her shoulders trembling from fatigue. The elation he usually felt after a climb was tempered by worry. They had a new obstacle to meet: searching for survivors.
That was close, he said.
Im sorry.
My fault.
Youre a difficult partner.
Does that surprise you?
Yes.
He searched her face, wondering why shed overestimated him. Then he realized that she was judging him by his performance in bed, which had been a hell of a lot more generous. Until he threw her out.
A flush crept up his neck at the backhanded compliment. He drank water from his pack, flattered and confused. The fact that hed given her pleasure didnt excuse his behavior, but she seemed determined not to demonize him. Maybe she saw the good in everyone. Or maybe she just expected poor treatment from men.
The thought depressed him. He didnt like the idea of being one of a long string of jerks. He wanted better for herand himself.
Hope took her gun out of her pack.
What are you doing? he asked, startled.
She shoved the weapon into her waistband, against the small of her back. I have to check out the crash site. Stay here.
No way.
You cant come.
Why not?
Because youre a civilian, and this is a potential crime scene. Its risky to fly at night without GPS or a flight plan. The plane might have been carrying illegal cargo.
Not every risk-taker is a criminal.
True, she said. Some are just idiots.
He winced, knowing which category she placed him in.
The crash victims could be smugglers, protecting their stash.
Dont you need backup?
I wont try to arrest a group of thugs by myself. Ill just survey the scene and collect information.
Im coming with you.
She deliberated for a moment, her mouth pursed. You have to take my lead, be quiet and stay back when I tell you to.
Okay, he said, swallowing hard. He might be an adrenaline junkie, crazy as fuck, but the situation scared him. He didnt like guns and he wasnt keen on getting shot. There was a difference between free-solo climbing, in which he trusted his abilities, and assisting an armed park ranger he hardly knew.