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Janie looked at the mug in her hand, studying the muddied contents within. She nodded. “I’m sorry, Grady.”
“I know.” He shook his head, then took her hand. “Janie, whatever compelled you to take this dare, I don’t think it’s worth it. And I think that whatever it was doesn’t really have anything to do with backpacking or you leaving Luna.”
She dared to peek at him. “I’m sorry I mixed you up in this.”
A compassionate grin tipped his mouth, then he drew her knuckles to his lips. “Go home, Janie. Fix things with Hunter.”
Shock had her eyes widening. Then heat flooded her face. “Grady, I didn’t mean . . .”
“I know.” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a big boy.” He shifted to face the canyon again, letting go of her hand only to gently squeeze her neck again. “It was worth a shot, hmm?”
Relieved by his kindness, Janie chuckled. “If you think so, then you’re nicer than most men. I think.”
“Don’t know about that.” Grady stood, then motioned to her tent. “When you’re ready, I’ll help you pack up. There’s a shuttle service at the next checkpoint. I’ll call ahead and make sure one is running this late in the season, and if it’s not, I’ll make other arrangements for you.”
Janie worked up the gumption to scramble to her feet. Grady lent her a hand, and she groaned as she stretched to full height. “I have never been this sore in my life.”
“For the record, I’m impressed. First backpacking trip and you went more than ten days? That’s remarkable.”
“Thanks.” She leaned back, attempting to loosen the clenching of her spine. Didn’t help. “You’re coming back to Luna, right?”
Grady chuckled, then he pulled her into a hug. “I’ll be back, and I’ll come looking for pie.”
“If I still have a café.”
“You will.” He stepped back and squeezed her arm. “I have no doubt. You will.” With a nod, he stepped away.
Janie sagged, part with relief, part with the weight of guilt. Mama had told her not to put Grady in the middle of her battle with Hunter. She wished she’d listened. It was only luck—or grace—that Grady had kept this situation from exploding.
Thinking of Mama, and home, she should let someone know she was heading back. Reaching into her coat pocket, Janie retrieved her phone.
Dead.
Of course it was. She hadn’t charged it when they’d stopped at the last checkpoint. She’d been so tired that she’d found a rock to lean against and gone immediately to sleep. All the way until Grady had nudged her awake and regretfully told her they had to get going if they were going to make camp by sundown.
No matter. She’d find somewhere to charge it along the way. For now, she was going home. Even the dread of facing Hunter couldn’t squelch the relief in that.
Twenty-Seven
Janiepressedherheadagainst the window of the vehicle, glad she was alone in the backseat. Grady had made quick arrangements, and though she was once against thrust into traveling with strangers, she was too tired to care. She’d sleep all the way back to Montana.
The phone in her hand vibrated. Squinting one eye open, she expected that it was simply a battery alert.
But there was a new text. From Hunter.
You are capable, Janie. You can do this.
No, she couldn’t. But the joy of going home offset the defeat. Even so, the need to sob nearly outweighed her body’s demand for sleep. In fact, if she’d been alone, she would have done both—cried herself to sleep.
Go home . . . Fix things with Hunter.Grady’s instructions pressed into the fuzziness of her emotions, and she smiled. She planned to do just that. In about ten hours, give or take.
Hopefully, by the time she got there, she could think straight.
Janie’s silence was worse than her sparring. Especially when he’d laid aside everything that tangled him up into the mess he’d been and tried to encourage her in that text the night before, and she’d ignored him.
For a whole stinking day, Janie hadn’t responded.
Hunter grabbed a broom and swept the subfloor that would soon be covered with dark stained hardwood. The roof had gone up, and the interior was dried in. That day—a sunny one—the roofers had laid shingles while the electrician had run the wiring.
