“He would be pissed,” Bébhinn agreed, a slight hiccup marring her words.
Raven and River placed hands on their sister’s arm and Bébhinn’s, tears in their eyes but smiles on their faces.
“Get out of here, niece,” River bumped her side with an elbow. “We’ve got things covered here.”
“Yes, baby, go,” Mom urged. “Have the time of your life, pooping in dirt toilets and wiping with leaves. Text me updates when you have service.”
That was hours before, and Bébhinn had used the ferry ride to give herself time to go over the trail route one more time. It was the one she and her dad had mapped out last year. There were several places where the Snowdonia Way trail’s lower-level and mountain routes connected.
She subscribed to a hiking trail app to download all her trails before she hiked them. So, even without the internet, the routes were saved in her cell. This app even allowed for customization of trails, which she’d taken advantage of.
For the first time in six months, she could smile, knowing Dad was proud of her for sticking to the plan.
After talking to her mother earlier, she felt lighter and more determined to enjoy the hell out of the hike. She unpacked and packed her backpack one last time, memorizing where every item rested: insulated tarp, ponytail holders, wide-billed bucket hat and poncho for when the rain hit—and it would—thermal sheet, mini, collapsible lantern, water purifier cup, MREs and protein bars, toothbrush and paste, body wipes and deodorant, extra panties—she could only rough it so far—a compass, and a backup print-off of the route, bunkhouses and resupply stations highlighted.
Most importantly, the Benchmade Bugout knife her dad had customized especially for her. She would keep the gift zipped safe in the front of her hiking cargo pants. It would take almost two hours to drive to Machynlleth, where she would stay the night at a B&B before starting out at first light. She was so ready.
She briefly tapped the front of the envelope containing Dad’s letter, praying she didn’t chicken out and would finally read the damn thing.
Pushing the letter aside, not wanting to psych herself out, she pulled out the itinerary she’d be leaving at the park office, which showed her route, sleeping arrangements, and supply stops. She would be passing through several small villages where she could catch a bath, bed, and breakfast if she stayed on schedule.
Her start and finish points, and the telephone number of the transport company that would take her back to her Jeep… Everything was in order—just as it had been for weeks.
This was the biggest hike she’d attempted, which caused an extra layer of stress. The mountains would test her both physically and mentally. She and Dad had been training for this hike for months before his helicopter crash.
Her small five-foot-three stature was a benefit in some conditions and a hindrance in others. Hugh O’Faolain didn’t do anything by halves, though. They’d gone to a few survival classes and even a survival boot camp in the States where they had to eat off the land or they didn’t eat for a week. It had been an epic adventure all on its own.
That had been the last adventure she’d taken with her father. “Be thankful you had even that,” she chided herself, shaking her head in exasperation.
When the bell chimed, announcing their arrival at the Holyhead ferry landing in Wales, she tucked the last of the gear away. Her excitement and a healthy dose of fear cramped her stomach until she stood and took several deep breaths.
Everything now would be studying her route for the one thousandth time, a high-protein dinner, and hopefully several hours of uninterrupted sleep. Once she handed over her paperwork to the park office, it would be a waiting game until sunrise.
She was about to step into the queue of bodies heading back to their vehicles when she felt her phone buzz in her front thigh zipper pocket. Mom.
“Hello, Mom, what’s up? I’ve just landed at Holyhead.”
“Oh my God, Bébhinn,” Mom started breathlessly, instantly spiking Bébhinn’s heart rate.
Freezing near the back of the line, she held the phone close to her ear to drown out the noises of the ferry. “What’s happened?”
Her mom must have heard the beginning of panic in her voice, because she quickly added, “No, no, sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you. I just found your sat phone on the bench by the front door. I feel terrible!”
Bébhinn’s breath whooshed out in relief. “Oh shoot, I set it down when we said goodbye, and I forgot to pick it back up. Great,” she chuckled, “Bran and Pat will give me a good chewingwhen I get home. I even went through my pack on the ferry and didn’t remember that I should have had it.”
“Is there any way to get it to you before you set out?”
“No. My schedule is completely planned. Waiting would require me to reschedule everything, including where I sleep, food supply, and transport. I would have to cancel. I’m sorry, Mom, but no way.
“I figured. Damn. Your ass isn’t the only one your brothers will chew on.” Mom was quiet for a minute as Bébhinn moved closer to her Jeep.
“I do have my small Garmin. We didn’t set it up for you, but I’ll send you the app as soon as I’m off the ferry. You need to remember that there is always a chance that I lose the Garmin, or drop it in a crevasse, or a fox trots off with it while I’m peeing behind a tree. Promise you won’t freak out. Give me my allotted time before you call for a military rescue.”
“I’m glad you at least have that. I feel relieved. I won’t promise to not freak out, but I will hold off on a search and rescue unless you’re five minutes past your pickup time,” Mom added, amusement in her voice, which made Bébhinn smile.
“Maybe you could hide the…evidence,” she suggested. “What my brothers don’t know won’t hurt them.”
Mom snorted. “Your brother-uncles probably have my damn phone tracked and will know if I don’t receive any calls. Plus, you know I can’t keep anything from Raven and River, and they can’t keep anything from their husbands. We’ll face their wrath together. No worries.”
