I absentmindedly grabbed my keys and phone and left the apartment.
The drive was quiet. There was hardly any traffic on the road because of the early hour. I drove on mental autopilot and parked along the unpaved forest road in a makeshift parking lot people used to access the trailhead. I opened the car door and took a deep breath. Cool air filled my lungs.
One of Brooks’ flannel shirts was in the back seat, and I quickly pulled it on. It smelled like lanolin, and him.
My heart cried with need.
But I wasn’t quite ready to face him. I was afraid if I saw him now, I’d collapse into his arms and beg him never to speak of his time before me again. Beg him to bury it forever. But if we did that it would lie there between us, a corpse of the past that would never fully decay. And years from now we would unearth it and wish we’d given it a proper burial when we were young and had our entire future ahead of us.
No. Better to exorcise it now while it’s still fresh. That’s the only chance we have to cling to every bit of happiness that’s on the horizon.
I climbed out of the car and headed along the worn path that Brooks had brought me to not that long ago.
I refused to be like my parents. At every inconvenience or hardship, one of them would decide to bow out until they were ready to come back and face reality.
And they always did come back, but they left first. Left each other.
I never wanted Brooks to leave me. And I never wanted to leave him again.
So, here I was, walking the path toward Prospector’s Peak. And I wouldn’t come down from the mountain until I was sure that I was strong enough to face him.
I just needed a few more moments to myself to process it all. To talk to the baby in my belly.
I kicked at loose gravel as I walked, lost in thoughts of the future.
Maybe that was why I didn’t notice the drop in temperature. Or the snapping of a branch behind me.
I looked over my shoulder and was no longer able to see the path more than fifty feet away because gray mist had rolled in.
The hair on the back of my neck rose, spiking my adrenaline.
I wasn’t alone.
My heart hammered in my ears and the acrid stench of my own fear hit my nostrils.
I froze, my eyes scanning the area, but I saw nothing. I had no idea if there was one or many of whatever was hunting me.
My hand went to my belt loop, but my fingers grasped only my keys. The mace that was usually on my key ring wasn’t there.
And then its head appeared through the haze, poking out from the side of a tree.
Whiskers.
Eyes the color of petrified amber.
Tawny fur.
Mountain lion.
I retreated slowly.
Terror clogged my throat and iced my blood.
The night I met Brooks, he’d mentioned something about mountain lions . . .
Running would set off the prey instinct of the massive cat. The only chance I had to survive was to be calm but forceful and let it know I saw it. I held out my hands above my head to appear as large as I could.
“No! Go away! No!” I boomed.
