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“It’s comfortable,” she says.
“Good. Do you have another shirt with you?” I ask.
She looks down at her tank top. “What’s wrong with this one?”
“Nothing. It looks nice, but the backpack might chafe your bare shoulders,” I inform.
She reaches up and rubs the ball of her shoulder. “I didn’t think about that.”
I unzip the top of my pack and pull out one of my flannels. “Here, you can wear this.”
“Won’t it be hot?” she asks.
“It’ll get cooler, the higher we ascend and especially on top once the sun goes down.”
She takes the offered shirt and pulls it on. It’s huge on her. She takes a moment to roll up the sleeves and ties the end in a knot.
The sight of her wrapped in my shirt causes my heart to start racing.
Calm down, asshole.
“Did you apply sunblock?” I ask.
“Um …”
I take the tube from my bag and squirt a small amount in my hand. Then, I cup her chin and tilt her face up. I rub the zinc oxide over her forehead, across her nose, and on the tips of her ears.
“Turn around, and I’ll get the back of your neck,” I command.
She does as I asked, and I move her hair to one side and generously apply the sunblock, making sure to get under the collar of the shirt.
She turns back to me and waits.
“You look nervous. You’re not much of an outdoors girl, are you?” I ask.
Her eyes go wide before narrowing. “There you go, making assumptions. Maybe I haven’t ever tackled quite this physical of a hike before, but that doesn’t mean I can’t. I’m not nervous. I’m excited,” she corrects.
The fire in her voice makes me smile.
“Then, let’s go, tiger. Follow me.”
We lock our vehicles and head to the trail entrance.
“Will my cell phone work?” she asks.
“The signal will go in and out, but it should work. That’s why I packed the power bank,” I inform.
“Good. I want your mom to be able to reach me if anything happens with Kaela. Not that I’ll be able to race down the mountain to them,” she says.
“They’ll be okay, and if you’re needed, I’ll throw you over my shoulder and run you back down. I promise.”
That makes her smile.
We hike in silence for about an hour. The soundtrack of our trek is the snapping of the twigs and leaves under our feet and the whistle of the breeze through the tree branches. It’s nice, climbing beside her. Listening as her breathing changes from relaxed to labored and back to normal once we reach a level cliff. She pushes and keeps in step with me until I halt us next to a couple of large mountain boulders.
“Let’s sit a spell and hydrate,” I say as I guide her to the rock and pull the canteen from my side.
She doesn’t object. She simply walks off the trail and begins to remove her backpack.
