Boys, Bears And A Serious Pair Of Hiking Boots Part 12

"Hi, Jenna."

"Hey."

They're only monosyllables, but I'm impressed. Reeve actually looks up from the game and smiles, while Grady's murmur is almost enthusiastic.

"Ha!" Suddenly, Grady jerks his controller up, and the screen explodes in an impressive firebomb. "Suck it, baby!"

"What? Aw, come on!" Reeve throws his remote down in defeat. "That was totally unfair."

"And so is life, my friend," Grady gloats. "The strong shall rise and the weak shall perish. Mwha-ha-ha."

"I thought it was the meek who inherit the earth." Ethan flops down on one of the couches next to Fiona, so I wander over to the La-Z-Boy, which is spilling its innards from a deep tear in the seat. I move around a couple of loose springs and sit, curling my legs up under me.

"Not in this world." Grady grabs a handful of chips. "Might is right!" He turns to me and Fiona. "Want some?"

"Duh." Fiona takes the whole bag. "So now that you're done destroying this loser, can we get on to the real game?"

"I call drums!" Grady yells, spraying chip fragments everywhere.

"Dude, gross." Ethan sighs.

"I take ba.s.s. Which means one of you has to sing." Reeve grins at Ethan, pulling the rest of the instruments out of the corner.

"Don't look at me." Ethan puts his hands up. "Jenna, it's all yours."

"You're going to regret that," I tell them. "Seriously. I'm awful. Think American Idol auditions kind of awful."

"That's part of the fun." Ethan laughs, pa.s.sing me the mic. "And you can't be worse than my brother, I promise."

"Dude, my Bon Jovi was epic," Grady informs us.

"Yeah, epically awful."

"Says the guy who managed to mess up 'Black Hole Sun.' Even Fiona did better than you!"

Fiona looks up and smirks. "Like that's hard."

I laugh, relaxing. For the first time since I arrived in town, it actually feels as though I belong - like I'm really part of the group. I look around happily. "So, since I got stuck singing, does that mean I get to pick the song?"

If I had any doubts that all my effort would be worth it, the vibe between Susie and Adam in the week after their dinner makes everything clear: from making baby eyes over breakfast to sneaking quick kisses as they pa.s.s each other in the hallway, the spark in their relationship is definitely back.

"This is all your fault." Fiona watches them through the kitchen window, her arms folded. Adam is sanding some wooden planks but stops every few minutes to hug and kiss Susie. Fiona makes a face. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," I answer breezily. "You coming on this climbing trip? I'm leaving now."

"Nope." She turns back, starting to pull down items from the cupboard. I watch as she a.s.sembles flour, sugar, and eggs on the countertop.

"You're . . . baking?" I stare, confused.

"And?" She glares at me, ripping open a package of b.u.t.ter and dumping it in a bowl with a scoop of sugar. Wielding a wooden spoon like it's an offensive weapon, she begins to beat the mixture into submission.

"Nothing." I blink, watching her. "I didn't know you were into that kind of thing."

"You get to eat cake," she replies, beating harder. "What's not to like?"

I begin to feel sorry for the sugar.

I wonder for a moment if she finds it exhausting - the constant sullen sighs, the petulant disapproval. Surely it would be easier all around if she just gave it a break. I'm tempted for a moment to go look in that mountain man manual for advice on dealing with rabid beasts, but then I remember: I sent it to Olivia in my last package, along with some photos of Stillwater and a Johnsons' Home & Hardware T-shirt. I figured my work here was done, but I guess I was too optimistic.

Fiona keeps mixing with a malevolent look, so I decide to leave her to it. It's not like I want her to be the one holding my guide rope, or whatever it is that's going to keep me suspended halfway up a cliff face.

An hour later, I'm not so sure. It turns out that Ethan and Grady had to stay and help out with a delivery back at the store, so it's just me, Reeve, and a looming rock face. Moral support of any type would be kind of great right now. "You want me to climb . . . that?" I stare up at it in horror. "With my bare hands?"

"Not bare." Reeve laughs. "You've got gloves, see?" He hands me a small pair of stiff, fingerless gloves. The leather is curling at the edges and stained white with old resin.

"Wow," I say faintly. "These will make all the difference."

We're deep in the woods, at what apparently is the best natural climbing spot for miles around. Chunks of gray rock jut out of the hillside, covered in places with moss and shrubbery. They cast long shadows over the foliage below, bathing us in a cool, green light.

My terror must show, because Reeve pauses, taking pity on me. "It's not so scary, really. Look, there are tons of ledges and pockets to grip. It couldn't be easier if there were a ladder all the way up."

"Uh-huh." I swallow. That teeny-tiny problem I have with heights suddenly doesn't seem so small.

"You'll have fun - I promise."

That I doubt. My plan was to stay safely on the ground today, but for some crazy reason, I didn't call the whole thing off when I heard it would be just the two of us. Reeve has gone to all this trouble to set the trip up. Now that we're alone, I can't bring myself to back out and look pathetic.

Reeve pulls on his own gloves, completely unaware that even proximity to the rock face is making my stomach tangle in knots. "I'll go first." He grins, c.o.c.ky. "Then you can see how easy it is."

"Wait, aren't you going to put on a harness or -?" Before I can even finish, he strides over and nimbly hops up onto a small ledge, about three feet from the ground. His hands are already skimming across the rock, seeking out a hold, and soon he's crawling ten, fifteen feet up.

"See?" Turning, he calls down to me. "Easy!"

I gulp. He's got no safety rope or net or anything, just slim canvas shoes and bare arms, but still he's scrambling easily up the vertical drop like he weighs nothing at all. It's like he's decided gravity doesn't apply to him.

"Look at my feet," he calls. "You have to use your legs to push higher. Find tiny creases in the rock to stand in." On cue, he lodges his right toe in a thin crack in the rock, using the force to push up and reach for a ledge. I gasp. For a few moments, his whole body is dangling by his fingertips, and then he finds another hold and swings sideways to reach it.

By the time he reaches the top of the rock, my stomach isn't just tangled; it's knotted tight.

"See? Nothing to worry about!" Reeve skids down the dirt path that winds around the side of the rock. Or, as I like to think of it: the sensible way up.

"You're sure you didn't get bitten by a radioactive spider or something?" I try and delay the inevitable that little bit longer. "Hey, wait a second while I get some general nature footage." I busy myself taking pictures for the website while Reeve grabs a coil of rope from his duffel bag. He scrambles back up the dirt path, runs the rope through a bolt at the top of the rock, and lets both ends fall all the way down to me.

Too soon, he's back by my side, holding out the harness for me to step into. "Ready?" He seems genuinely excited, blue eyes lit up and his whole face animated. I nod reluctantly.

I can be brave. I can be adventurous. I can climb stuff.

Pulling the harness around my pelvis, I tighten the straps and then stand awkwardly as Reeve attaches the various pulls and hooks to my body. "This is your safety rope." He shows me, looping it securely through the front of my harness and tying a strange knot. "It goes up through that bolt and then back down to me, so you don't need to worry at all. If you slip, or lose your grip or anything, I've got you." My expression must be less than rea.s.sured, because he puts a hand on my arm and says it again: "I've got you."

"OK." I breathe, trying to talk myself into this. Rock. Holds. Momentum. Think of it like a jungle gym, I tell myself, or a flight of stairs. A flight of perilous, invisible stairs. "And how do I get down?"

His face creases in a smile. "I'll talk you through it when the time comes."

I'm thinking that time will come sooner, rather than later.

Reeve takes up his position, feeding his end of the rope through a metal loop, and I slowly edge over to the bottom of the rock.

"You can do this - I promise," Reeve adds when I linger there without moving. "Just break it down: one move, then another."

The rock feels cool and damp against my palms. Taking a deep breath, I step up onto that first easy ledge.

"Great job!" I hear Reeve's voice, but don't dare look around. "Now reach up with your left hand. There's a ledge right there." I follow his instructions, running my fingers over cracks until I find a crevice large enough to grip. "Then put all your weight on your left foot and find a new hold."

It takes me another moment to actually do as he says, but after scrabbling at the rock with my toe, I find another ledge. Shifting slowly, I ease up onto it and grab at a new nook with my fingertips. Now I'm balanced on the tips of my toes, my whole body flat against the rock.

"You've got it!" Reeve sounds way too enthusiastic. After all, I am still only five feet above the ground: I could jump down without a problem. But something about the certainty in his voice makes me feel stronger. I keep going.

Left foot, left hand; shift weight; right foot, right hand; shift weight. With Reeve yelling out suggestions, I gradually move up the rock, feeling muscles I never knew I had strain under the unexpected weight. But the higher I go, the more my stomach lurches in terror. Don't look down, I tell myself, staring at etchings and moss just inches from my nose. Just don't look down.

I shift sideways along the wall, following a seam of easy footholds until I'm out on the far left. But the seam ends. I'm stuck.

"Reeve!" I call down. "I can't see anything!" There are tiny pockmarks and cracks but nothing I can get a toe or hand into. "Reeve!"

"Hang on. Let me look. Er, I think you're going to have to come back."

"Back where?" Without the momentum of my reach-and-shift routine, I start to feel my weight pull. I have one foot jammed up to the side and the other lodged in only a toehold, gripping tightly with my fingertips in one single crack. I begin to panic. "I don't know what to do!"

"Try sliding along and up," Reeve calls. I hear him pacing closer to the rock. "There's a ledge just out of your reach, on the right."

I tentatively let go with one hand and grab for the ledge. "It's too far!" I quickly cling back to the crack in front of me. My hands are aching, but I don't dare ease my grip. "I can't go anywhere!"

"Shh, it's OK, Jenna. Just breathe."

"But I can't move!" I take a gulp of air. It doesn't make me feel any calmer. "Reeve?"

"Do you want to get down -?"

"Yes!" I cry before he even has time to finish.

Reeve laughs, calm and rea.s.suring. "OK, you're going to need to let go of the wall and lean back. Just hold on to your harness and walk down backward."

Let go? Walk backward? Just?

I stay frozen in place, fear washing over my body in a cold shiver. I should never have tried this; I should be safely on the ground. Bad things happen to people who think they can cheat gravity: things involving falling, and pain, and b.l.o.o.d.y bone-shattering death.

And then I look down.

"Oh, G.o.d," I whimper. "I'm going to die."

"No, you're not!" Reeve insists. He would. He's on the ground. All the way down there.

"Maybe not die. Maybe I'll just break my neck."

"You need to move, Jenna. Just take a breath and lean out. I've got your rope; you can't fall."

We both wait.

"OK, how about plan B?" Reeve still sounds relaxed. "Hang tight - I'm coming up."

"But what about my safety rope!"

"I'm securing it - don't worry."

I don't hear anything for a while but sc.r.a.pes and scrabbling. I'm starting to get a cramp in my calves. I don't want to think about what will happen when my legs give out.

"Hey." I hear Reeve's voice, breathless, just beside me. I force myself to turn my head, resting my cheek against the cool rock. He's climbed a different route and is about five feet away from me, just out of reach. He looks over at me casually, as if we've accidentally run into each other. Because I'm always running into sweaty, shirtless climbers halfway up a rock. "So, what's up?"

I make a garbled noise, equal parts laughter and sheer terror.

"OK then, let's see if we can sort you out." He looks at my position. "Are your feet comfortable?"

I shake my head.

"Well, I can see a ledge right by your foot. It would help stretch you out."

I stay frozen.

"I want to move," I explain miserably. "And I think about moving. But when it comes to actually moving . . ."

"That's OK." Reeve's voice is soft and rea.s.suring. "Take your time." Gathering every last ounce of courage, I force my foot to move, just an inch. "Nearly!" Reeve promises. "Just a bit more." I grit my teeth and push a tiny bit farther. "There! You feel that? Shift your weight." I do as he says, and right away, the pain in my legs starts to ease.

"Thanks," I say in a small voice. "And, I'm sorry about this." I feel completely useless.

"It's OK," he rea.s.sures me. "I'm sorry, too. I mean, I promised this would be fun."

"It was!" I gulp. "Kind of. Before I lost all control over my limbs and had a major panic attack."

He laughs again, and the sound is weirdly soothing. "What do you want to do now?"

"Umm, I have options?" I take another breath. "OK, maybe, if I just stay here a while, I'll un-freeze and be able to move again?"

"Then we're staying put." Reeve shifts to a more comfortable position. I wish I had the luxury. "So, how are things going?"

I can't help but smile - a small pitiful smile, but a smile all the same. "Oh, just great. You know, hanging out."

"Ouch!" Reeve flashes me a grin.

"Yes, well, I'm kind of distracted." Despite my better instincts, I find myself glancing down again to the - "Hey, hey, Jenna!" Reeve snaps my attention back. "Just keep looking at me, OK? Straight over here at me."