Fated for Love (22 page)

Wes knelt beside her, wishing her friends weren’t standing so close so he could ask her what was really going on. “Are you sure you want to sit this part out?”
Shit
. This could only mean that she was upset. Maybe he’d been too honest.

She nodded and reached for her backpack. “Yeah. I made it pretty far, and I’ll just freak out the higher we get. I’m fine right here. Do you mind?”

Hell yes
. He wanted to stay right there with her. Damn it. How was he supposed to leave her by herself?

Kathie moved in front of Callie, casting a shadow over her face. “You sure, Cal?”

“Yeah. Go. Have fun. Besides, it’s not like it’s all day. Half hour up, a few minutes to jump on rocks and take pictures, and then you’ll be back. I can read a lot in an hour.”

Kathie shrugged. “If you say so.”

Wes dug through his backpack and handed her the two-way radio. “This goes directly to the lodge. If you have any trouble, use it.” He showed her how to use it. “I’m going to leave Sweets with you, too. Are you sure you want to stay? I’d really prefer not to leave you alone.”

Callie pulled Sweets against her. “I won’t be alone. I’m fine, really. It’s a little breezy with the hill, though. I didn’t bring a jacket. Do you have one?”

“Always.” He dug in his pack and handed her a Woodlands zip-up hoodie.

“Thank you. Go, have fun, and don’t let them drive you crazy.”

Every fiber of his being told him not to go, but this was his job, and Callie’s friends were already heading back toward the trail.

He watched Callie slip on the hoodie, then leaned in close and lowered his voice. “Cal, are you staying because of what I said?”

She touched his hand, and her eyes softened. “No. Please don’t worry. You were honest, and I appreciate that. I believe everything you said to me, Wes. I know myself well enough to realize that when I stand up and look over that slope, or when we’re on the trail and Kathie or Christine do something that’s totally fun for them, it’ll petrify me. The last thing I want to do is ruin everyone’s fun. Go. Let them have fun. I’ve got my book. I’m totally fine.”

She was so damn thoughtful. Wes didn’t think he knew of another person who was as selfless, except maybe his mother, who had raised him and his siblings on her own and devoted herself to them for so many years that now, as she climbed toward sixty, he wished she had someone who loved her the way he loved Callie.

“Okay. Use the radio if you need it, and keep Sweets with you.” He looked at the surroundings. She was out in the open, far enough from the edge that if she really just sat and read, she should be perfectly fine. Sweets would keep her safe from snakes and small animals, which he knew better than to mention to Callie. He folded her into his arms one last time. “I love you, Callie, and I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to talk.”

“Don’t worry. We talked enough. I’ll be fine, here and in Trusty.”

How could she possibly know that he needed to hear that?

On the trail, he took one last look at Callie. She had one arm over Sweets’s back, the other held her book, and he felt like he was leaving two-thirds of himself behind.

“She’ll be fine.” Bonnie clicked a picture of Callie and Sweets. “She did great, don’t you think?”

“She’s nothing short of amazing.”
And I hope to hell I don’t lose her
.

CALLIE WAS STILL reeling from her conversation with Wes when they disappeared up the mountain. She hadn’t realized she was even worried about what would happen when they returned to Trusty or what it might be like to watch Tiffany pawing at him now that they’d become so close. But now that it was out in the open, it buzzed around her head like a horsefly waiting to sting. She trusted Wes, and she’d seen the honesty in his eyes and heard it in his voice. He hadn’t tried to deny his past, and for that she was thankful. She hadn’t expected him to be a saint. What she needed, he’d given her. Honest assurance. She knew he would do everything in his power to make sure she was comfortable, but she’d never been in love before, and she sure as heck had never been jealous before. She could only hope that
she’d
be able to handle it.

Her stomach twisted as she thought about Tiffany Dempsey trying to entice him into a date, or her bed, or whatever she had in mind each week. Heck, her stomach had done the same thing when Wes had been just a guy she was drooling over. That hadn’t changed. What
had
changed was that now her heart was involved, and whether she wanted to think about it or not, Wes held her fragile heart in his very capable hands.

Callie sighed and set her book on her lap. “What do you think, Sweets? You know him. My heart is perfectly safe, right?”

Sweets opened one eye and blinked up at her.

“Not even worth opening both eyes? Good to know.”

She heard a rustling just over the crest of the hill. Sweets’s ears perked up. She stood on all fours with a low growl. Callie’s pulse quickened.

“What is it?”

Sweets barked and darted over the hill and out of sight.

“Sweets!” Callie rose to her feet and got a little dizzy at the change in perspective. She sat back on her heels. “Sweets!”

Sweets barked a blue streak, but her barks were getting farther away.

Oh boy
. What if Sweets didn’t come back?

“Sweets! Here, Sweets! Come on, girl.”

Sweets’s barks sounded even more distant. Callie sank to her butt. What could she do? She could call her again. That didn’t seem to help.
What would Wes do?
Darn it. She had never had a dog, much less been responsible for a dog in the wilderness. Sweets stayed so close to Wes, she doubted that she’d have left his side if he were the one reading on the hill.

Sweets began barking again. Callie scanned the area to her right, following the distant trail of Sweets’s barks until they silenced. Callie’s heart leaped to her throat.
Oh no
.
Please come back
. Sweets howled, then yelped—loudly—followed by a mix of yelping, howling, and whining that tore at Callie’s heart.
Oh no, no, no. Please come back
.

She pushed to her feet, leaving her book on the ground, and took a few tentative steps forward. Wes’s hoodie hung to her thighs. She thought about the radio in Wes’s backpack, but that only communicated with the lodge, and she couldn’t just leave Sweets down there and wait for who knows how long for someone to get there.

“Sweets?”

Sweets continued yelping. Callie forced her trembling legs to carry her forward.
Oh God
. The ground fell away at a steep angle. Her stomach lurched. She crouched a few feet from the edge, breathing heavily and shaking like she’d seen a ghost. Sweets yelped again, and her yelps morphed into painful cries. Callie clenched her eyes shut.
I have to do this. Go. Just go look. Find her
. She crawled on all fours almost to the edge of the mountain.

“Sweets?” The late-afternoon breeze swept the word away. Callie forced herself to look down the treacherous mountainside. Low brush, dirt, grass, big, craggy rocks, and—oh God—the sight of the rushing river below sent her crawling backward.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod
.

She slammed her eyes shut and sucked in a breath.

Sweets yelped, and Callie forced herself to crawl forward again. Fisting her hands in the tall grass, she peered over the edge and scanned the brush for Sweets. Blood rushed in her ears, and her heart hammered against her chest. Sweets cried out again, and Callie forced herself to follow the sound. She spotted Sweets lying on the ground beside a rock, off to her right about twenty feet below. Callie’s stomach lurched again.

“No. Oh God, no.” She clenched her teeth together and crept along the ground until Sweets was directly below her. “I’m coming, Sweets,” she said more to herself than to Sweets. “I can do this. It’s just a hill. It’s just a hill.” The first step down made her dizzy. She plastered herself against the side of the mountain. How the hell did people do this every day? She lowered one foot, then the other, silently making deals with herself.
Do this and you can skip everything else. Save Sweets and you never have to see a mountain again.
She lowered her hand to a rut in the dirt and dug her nails into the earth. Another step down, followed by another grip of the ground. She didn’t dare look down. The sound of rushing water broke through her thoughts. She clenched her eyes shut and forced herself to continue.

Sweets’s whimpers were getting closer. Not once did she wonder what had caused Sweets to run. She was a dog. Dogs ran. Now, as she climbed down what felt like Mount Everest, she began to wonder. What if it was a snake? What if Sweets had gotten bitten? What if
she
got bitten?
Oh God
. She pushed away the thought as she lost her footing, slid down several feet, scraping her stomach against stones and grass, and cried out. Her hands grasped for purchase; she dug the toes of her boots into the dirt.
Please, please don’t let me die
. Her foot hit something hard, and she clutched the closest thing she could reach—a prickly branch of a bush.

“Ouch!” Tears filled her eyes. She clenched them shut and took several sharp breaths.

Sweets yelped and whimpered again. Callie heard her moving around below.

“Stay, Sweets. I’m coming.” With several loud grunts, or maybe whimpers or groans—she wasn’t sure what sound was accompanying her shaking body as she continued blindly searching for footholds, taking one backward step after another. Sweets came into view to her left, and thankfully, she seemed to have tucked herself onto a level ridge beside big rocks a foot or so from where Callie was clinging to the mountainside. Callie reached her left hand over and grabbed a thick root that stuck out from the ground. Then she slid her foot along the mountainside until the ball of her foot hit the ridge beside Sweets.

Sweets whined in gut-wrenching pain. She lay on her side, her legs up, her front paws hanging limply, covered with quills that stuck out like dark, thick needles. Sweets snapped at them. Callie dug her boot into the dry dirt and walked her hands down the side of the mountain until she was crouched beside Sweets. Breathing hard and clutching the rock, she pressed one hand firmly on Sweets’s stomach.

“Don’t move.”
Ohgodohgod
. Callie scanned the ridge for the culprit, which she could only assume was a porcupine. It was nowhere in sight—thank goodness. Spots of blood darkened the bottoms of Sweets’s front paws. Callie’s heart beat fast and hard. She knew she had to get the quills out, but she didn’t know how, and she remembered reading they had painful barbs. Pulling the wrong way would be horrific for the dog—even worse than the pain Sweets was in as she struggled to reach the quills with her mouth. Callie could barely think past Sweets’s painful pleas.

Callie forced herself not to look down the mountain beyond the small ledge where they were perched. She heard the rush of the river, and she feared that if she looked down, she’d probably pass out.

With a deep breath and a shaky voice, talking as much to herself as to Sweets, she said, “I have to carry you up.”

She had no idea how she’d manage that, but with Sweets looking up at her with her big, sad eyes and her bloody paws, Callie’s fear took a backseat to her need to help the injured pup.

“We can do this. I know we can.” She scooped Sweets up under one arm like a football, careful to keep the quills from banging against her side. Sweets flailed, trying to get to her paws.
Oh God
.
Please don’t let us fall
.

“This isn’t going to work.” She set Sweets down on her back and rested a knee lightly on the dog’s stomach to keep her from reaching the quills. She ripped off Wes’s hoodie, and quickly tied the arms together, talking to the dog as she worked.

“A character in a book did this to carry her baby up a hill. I thought it was crazy…but it just might work.” She shoved the loop of the arms over her head so it crossed over her body. Then she picked up Sweets and held her inside the hoodie while she zipped it up, careful to leave Sweets’s injured paws hanging out the top. She took the elastic band from her hair and used it to secure the bottom of the hoodie so Sweets wouldn’t slip out.

“I can’t believe it. This might work.” She kissed the pup’s head, feeling hopeful and clinging to an ounce of confidence for her resourcefulness. With Sweets swaddled in the hoodie and pressed close to her body, she leaned forward, one hand against Sweets, and tested the contraption. Sweets’s hammock swung out only a few inches, and the pup was zipped in so tightly that she couldn’t reach her paws.

Callie’s body shook and shivered. She forced herself to focus on finding footholds and gripping anything she could for purchase as she scaled the side of the mountain. She stopped every few feet to breathe—and remind herself not to look up or down. Sweets whined and whimpered against her. Callie had no idea how much time had passed, but as the sun crept lower on the side of the mountain, she knew it had to have been quite a while. She sweated despite the cool breeze sweeping across the mountain. Callie’s neck ached from Sweets’s weight, but she pushed past the ache and focused on her next fingerhold, her next breath. She brought a shaky knee up and dug the tip of her boot into the dirt. She pushed off to climb higher and her toe slid down the mountainside. Callie rolled to her side, shielding Sweets with one arm and reaching for a thick root with the other, panting, silently praying for strength and safety.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” she reassured herself. With a deep breath, she turned back to the mountain. She was
not
going to be defeated by a stupid mountain. She gritted her teeth and began her ascent once again.
One hand. One foot. I can do this
. The thought repeated in her mind, a mantra, a saving grace.

Fast footfalls fell upon her ears. “She’s gone!”

Bonnie!
“Help.” A whisper.
Oh God
. She was in too precarious a position to scream, afraid the slightest movement might cause her to lose her grip. Words were her life, and she couldn’t form a single one. She opened her mouth, willing herself to yell, and again, only a shredded whisper came out. Her heart hammered against her chest; her pulse raced. How could her voice betray her like this? She draped her arm across Sweets and swallowed hard, then forced herself to try again.