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Was it strange that she was a little glad Cooper was coming instead of Gavin? Guilt stung at the thought. She couldn’t quite put her finger on why she liked the idea. Perhaps it was only because he was a known entity. While she might know Gavin better in the day-to-day world, she’d already gone through a crisis with Cooper. She trusted him to handle a difficult situation.
She wasn’t sure how scattering Spencer’s ashes might affect her. She’d lost a lot in her life, but nothing had been harder than losing her brother. She’d already done her share of grieving, of course, but one didn’t get over such a loss quickly or easily. She still missed him every day. Still had moments where she started to call him before she remembered she couldn’t.
She was relieved when the band struck up their first song, making conversation all but impossible. She had a lot to sort out and didn’t want to do it under Gavin’s watchful eyes.
She was surprised he hadn’t yet told her about his son. After all, they’d both lost someone they loved. Wasn’t this a commonality that could draw them closer? Didn’t he want that? Maybe he wasn’t ready for that kind of intimacy. Was that a red flag?
Well, she had to respect his need for privacy. Obviously the loss had cut deeply. She’d never had a child, much less lost one. She should be patient with him. Her gaze drifted covertly over his features as he watched the band perform. There was a sadness in his eyes that never went away.
Lisa had told her that Katie had brought happiness back into his life, and Gavin’s own words seemed to corroborate that. She was glad for it. He deserved to be happy. She hated what he’d been through; she just wished he trusted her enough to open up about it.
15
The next morning Katie put her hair in a ponytail and strung it through her Yankees cap. She wore lightweight hiking shorts and a white tank top. The first weekend of September would be a hot one. She’d filled her backpack with water bottles, snacks, a change of clothing, and of course, the urn with Spencer’s ashes.
As she put on her favorite running shoes, the sound of popping gravel filtered through the walls of her house. Cooper was here.
Her heart thudded in anticipation as she finished tying her shoes and gathered her belongings. She was eager to have this thing done, that was all. At least that was what she told herself as she exited the house and locked the door behind her.
Cooper, similarly attired in a gray ball cap, athletic shirt, shorts, and hiking boots, shouldered his backpack. His biceps strained the sleeves of his shirt as he adjusted his pack. Upon sight of her he stopped abruptly, his face falling. “Oh boy. I guess I can’t do this after all.”
Katie blinked. “What? Why not?”
He threw a hand up. “A Yankees fan. I don’t think we can be friends.”
Relief surged through her, coming out as a laugh. “You dog. I thought you were serious.”
“Oh, I’m very serious about baseball.” He belied the statement with a smile. “People cheer for the Braves around here, you know. But maybe I can overlook your confusion this one time.”
“My confusion, huh?” She couldn’t help returning his bright smile, excitement for the coming day winning out.
“What else can I blame it on? Maybe I can help you see the errors of your ways.” He locked up his car. “You had a good breakfast, right?”
“Lots of protein, as instructed.”
“Good girl. It’s about thirteen miles to the shelter. Then another six miles or so to Max Patch.”
“Today’s the challenging day.” Physically. But tomorrow might prove to be the more difficult one.
As they walked down the drive, he went through a list of items she should have in her bag. Gavin had already advised her on this, so she was well prepared. Cooper carried a first-aid kit and a few other extras like a knife and sleeping pads.
At the street they turned right, walking toward the trailhead on the south side of town.
“You have a water filter?” he asked.
“Iodine tablets—borrowed from Gavin. That and the sleeping bag.”
“You don’t own one?”
“What would I need with a sleeping bag?”
His eyes twinkled. “You might want to keep that to yourself. Around here that’s considered the eighth deadly sin.”
“Oh boy. I have enough trouble with the first seven.”
He laughed. “Which one gives you the most grief?”
“I don’t even know if I can name them all. Gluttony . . . greed . . . pride?”
