Even if it destroyed him.
Even if it killed him.
Finally a day of no rain, and Virgil was still giving them the red light.Evidently, seventy-percent chance of rain was still too high.
Teague Hamilton leaned against the map table in the center of the Grand Canyon ranger station, his fingers tracing worn edges of the topographic chart.The station reeked of pine from the surrounding forest mixed with old coffee and the musty smell of wet canvas.Damp gear hung in the corner from yesterday, still refusing to fully dry out.Normally they kept wet stuff outside, but the storms lately made that impossible.
Monsoons never came this early.Not in July.
This summer?They’d started two weeks into June and never left.
At least fire danger was lower than usual, the gauge on the wall showing green—an unheard-of event for this time of year.Silver lining and all that.
Dark clouds still sat overhead, not interested in moving on.
So much for sealing that cave entrance.
But how long could they put it off before disaster struck again?
“Copy that.”Eden’s voice cut through the silence from the communications hub ten feet away on the south side of the room.Okay, her hub was not much more than a desk, but with her cluttered setup—three monitors displaying weather radar, trail reports scrolling in real-time, and who knew what else—it was like she was manning her own space station.“But you might want to be looking up for climbers rather than down for people rappelling.”
She laughed.Slight.Musical.
“I will update the team here and stand by.”
He glanced over, trying to look casual.Waited, pulse kicking up despite himself.
She was still typing.Her blonde hair tied in a messy bun under her ever-present headset, wisps escaping to frame her face.Pale-blue eyes fixed on the screen in front of her.
He blinked back at the map.He tried to focus on the problem, on elevation lines and trail markers and not the girl.
“What’s the update?”
She slid off the headset and disconnected it from the radio.Set it aside carefully.“Abandoned gear spotted at Bright Angel—ropes, picks.South Rim is sending a team but will let us know if they need help.They think it’s just more people digging for the gold, but with the image they sent, I think their plan was climbing, not rappelling.”
Teague straightened and walked over to her.He folded his arms across his chest.“Okay, I’ll bite.Why do you think that?”
Eden tapped her monitor.She zoomed in on an image of the gear pile—coils of rope and metal implements scattered on rock.“The ropes are dynamic, not static.Dynamic ropes stretch to absorb a fall.Climbers use them for lead climbing on steep pitches.Rappelling needs static ropes—less stretch, better for controlled descents.The picks are lightweight ice axes designed for alpine climbing, not the heavy ones cavers use for digging.And the gear was coiled neatly at the base of a cliff face, like someone was prepping to ascend, not just dropping down.”
Color him impressed.
There was definitely more to this dispatcher than she’d let on.
He uncrossed his arms.Sat on the corner of the desk.“How do you know so much about climbing?”
“I don’t.”
A shadow passed over her face.Then she shook it away with a physical jerk of her head.But gone was the confident woman who’d sat there a moment ago.As if she’d pulled herself behind a wall.Only the carefully crafted Eden remained visible now.
Her past was off-limits.
Eden held out a paper to him.Her fingers brushed his for a split second.
A jolt shot through him.He tried to ignore it.Tried to keep his face neutral.
“These are the coordinates.They said they’d let us know if they needed backup.”
“If we haven’t left for the cave by then.”Teague carried the paper back to the table.Found the location on the map.
