She looks up when I walk in, boot landing on the creaky floorboard I always forget to avoid. Her smile is warm. “You must be Stevie.” She extends a small hand in my direction. “I’m Savanna.”
I take her hand in mine, shaking it. “Hi, Savanna.”
When I look at my uncle in question, he says, “She’s our new tour guide.”
Savanna chatters for the next few minutes before excusing herself to go prep for her day hike, leaving me alone with my uncle. I stare at him for a moment, unsure what to say.
“You hired someone new?”
I don’t run this place with him, but I’ve been here long enough that I almost feel like a partner. He had another employee before I started, but when they quit and when I was looking for a job after graduating high school, he floated the idea to me. It was just the two of us until he hired Michael three years ago, and he’s roped me in on almost all his decisions. So the fact that he hired someone while I was gone without eventellingme feels a little like whiplash.
Uncle Silas must see it on my face because he turns to me, the stool squeaking as it swivels. His hair is graying, salt and pepper, and his hands are leathery from years spent in the sun as he folds them between his spread knees.
“We needed the extra help while you were out,” he says. “And we’ve needed help since before that. You’re been taking on too many tours with the increase in business the past few seasons.”
A rod stiffens my back. “I can handle it.”
“You have circles under your eyes.”
I swipe at the concealer there. “No, I don’t.”
His blue eyes pin mine. “Yes, you do. But regardless, we needed the extra help, and with you out, I finally decided to do it.”
“I’m back now.”
I’m not sure why I’m fighting him on this. He’s right. We have been overworked the past few seasons, Michael and I taking on more and more trips and Uncle Silas having to do more than he has in previous years, meaning the admin side of things was falling behind. On more than one occasion, he wasn’t able to process our time sheets before the bank closed, and our checks were delayed.
Still, it feels like he replaced me while I was gone. Like he made this decision without me.
“You are,” he concedes. “And I’m happy about it, trust me. But I need you to rest some too. Michael is glad for the slower pace. I’m hoping you will be too.”
I should be. I just spent most of last night trying to figure out how I could make time in my schedule to help my parents out more, but it doesn’t soothe the sting that feels like failure.
“Speaking of,” he says, turning back to the computer, “Savanna is going to take your overnight, and you are going to just do a day hike today.”
“What?” I sputter.
His eyes flick back to mine. “I don’t feel safe sending you out on an overnight yet.”
Embarrassment sticks in my stomach, sending heat up my chest. “I’m fine.”
“Probably, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.”
Outside, gravel crunches, and he glances out the window. “Your hikers are here. Go finish up getting ready, and I’ll get them checked in.”
I want to protest, tell him I can handle the workload, but I can tell the conversation is over. So I walk back down the hall, my boot catching on the creaky floorboard again, and head into the prep room where Savanna is looking over what was my overnight campsite reservation.
The front door opens, the small station filling with voices, and I know that regardless of how I feel about things, it’s time to get to work.
Iwaketothesound of the front door opening, my heart hammering in my throat. I’m in my bed, a pair of threadbare flannel pajama pants hanging off my hips, and not wearing a shirt. I stay still for a moment, pulse pounding in my ears, and listen to the shuffle of footsteps through the cabin. My bedroom door is open since I knew I’d have the place to myself until tomorrow, and the setting sun seeps through the frame, casting my room in shades of gold and orange. Adrenaline makes my hand shake as I reach for my phone on the nightstand. The shuffling footsteps turn down the hall.
And my phone clatters to the floor.
Before I can get up to grab it or something else to protect myself, Stevie appears in the doorframe, backlit in orange.
I sink back against the pillows, my eyes falling shut, hand pressed to my ricocheting heart.
“Damn it, Stevie, you scared me.”
