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Candace’s face blanched, and she stepped off the trail, mumbling about trying to find her lip balm before falling in behind Becca. Emily chuckled inwardly. Her stepdad could be truly intimidating if he wanted to be.
Spencer moved into stride beside Emily. “How’re the shoes doing? And the socks? I’m a little worried about you getting a blister. It’s not a good idea to hike in brand new shoes—it’s better to break them in first.”
“No problem. I brought moleskin with me in case I get a blister.” She was proud of her thoroughly researched preparation.
“So you’re not much of a hiker?” Becca’s voice sounded behind her. “I’ve been hiking with Spencer for a long time. How many hikes do you think we’ve done together, Spencer? I mean the group hikes, not our private ones.”
“I’ve been on a lot of hikes with the club, Becca. I really can’t remember which ones you were on.”
Emily noted he didn’t address the private hikes, but she wasn’t about to ask for clarification.
“You haven’t forgotten that overnight hike have you?” Becca grabbed Spencer’s arm, pulling him back to walk beside her. He slowed with Becca, speaking to her in low tones.
“Comin’ through.” Emily passed her mom and Steven, taking the lead and distancing herself from Becca and Spencer as the trail narrowed, entering the woods.
“Follow the yellow blazes,” directed Steven.
Emily set a slightly faster pace to prevent any possible criticism from the two experienced hiker girls. The trail became a bit steeper, but she managed to maintain her speed. She’d always been extremely disciplined about exercise, so she was undaunted by the cardiovascular challenge. Back home in Fort Worth, she’d managed to squeeze in a ballet class once a week. But the other days she followed a vigorous workout routine that included thirty minutes on an incline treadmill. After pushing her speed for about fifteen minutes, she realized she’d forgotten about her mom. She glanced behind her.
“Hey, Mom. Is this pace okay? And are you drinking plenty of water?” She took a swallow of her own water to encourage her mother, who’d always resisted drinking.
Anne made a face. “Yes, I’m drinking. Yuk! I’m not enjoying it, but I’m drinking.”
“How’re you feeling, anyway?” Her mom didn’t look as perky as when they started.
“Maybe a little queasy, but I’m okay.”
Steven announced, “We’re stopping for a second.”
Anne mumbled her objection, but he forced her to sit on a log, take sip of water and eat a few bites of a granola bar. One look at her mom’s chalky face confirmed his wisdom. He whispered something in her ear, and she shook her head forcefully.
By this time the entire group was sitting down. Emily noted with a bit of satisfaction Becca was breathing heavily and Candace’s mascara had started running from the sweat on her face. Then she scolded herself for her malicious feelings toward the girls who’d done her no actual harm.
Spencer caught her attention. “Emily, I thought you’d never been h
iking. You’re sure setting a blistering pace on the climb.”
“Sorry. I was in the zone, I guess.”
“How’re your feet doing?”
“Great.” At the obvious relief on his face, she added, “Thanks, Spencer. I’m sure I would’ve been slipping all over on the steep part without my new shoes.”
His face lit up like she’d given him an amazing gift. “I was glad to help.”
Becca sat with a sullen expression beside Candace, whose eyes were darting nervously toward Steven. Emily couldn’t help feeling sympathy for the two girls and attempted to make them more comfortable.
“I really like your hair, Candace. Did you do it yourself?”
She smiled, fingering her hair to check the condition of the beautiful braid. “No, Becca did it for me.”
“Really? Becca, you did that? It’s amazing. How’d you learn to do it?”
Becca shrugged. “It’s nothing really—I just like doing it.”
Spencer inspected Candace’s hair. “Wow. It’s pretty cool, Becca. You have hidden talents.” Becca beamed at his praise.
“Well, Candace has such beautiful hair, but I’d love to learn how to do it. I always do this plain braid.” Emily indicated her own hair. In truth, she knew a variety of braiding styles, but usually didn’t bother with them. Still, none of her braids had ever approached the intricate design woven into Candace’s hair.
