Mending Places (12 page)

Judging by her watch, dinnertime was nearing. She wondered how Gram and Mrs. Eddlestein were getting along. At church the previous day, Hanna had talked to her dad about Gram. His face had sobered when she told him of his mom’s forgetfulness, but he’d admitted he’d seen the signs also. They’d had lunch together with Paula, and he’d talked with Gram about scheduling an appointment with the doctor.

Hanna had thought she would put up a fuss. Her easy acquiescence left Hanna thinking that Gram had been concerned about her behavior too. She didn’t even want to think about a possible diagnosis
of Alzheimer’s. An elderly man at church had it, and she saw his wife dealing with the final stages. So sad.
Please, Lord, help the doctor to get to the bottom of this. If it is Alzheimer’s, I pray that You d give us the strength to cope.

Later that night they settled at the deserted CMC campsite. Micah explained to the campers that the campsite was named after the Chicago Mountaineering Club, the first group to ascend Mount Moran in 1941. He began supper, cooking chipped beef and gravy over the propane stove while Hanna combined powdered milk and water with an instant pudding mix and set it in the shallow edge of the spring to set. The campers struggled to set up their A-frame tents. Hanna and Micah laughed when the boys’ tent collapsed on them, then Hanna went to help.

After dinner Micah showed them how to use biodegradable soap and a scrub pad to scour the pots and utensils. By the time they’d cleaned up, the pudding was set, and they ate it as they watched the sun slip over the horizon.

After dessert Hanna removed her boots and socks. The red spot on her heel burned hot, but the blister had already burst.

“Blisters?” Micah had sneaked up behind her.

“So much for two pairs of socks.”

“You might want to wash it off.” He dug the first-aid kit from his backpack and knelt down beside her. “Ever used moleskin?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Sounds gross.”

He cut a circle from the material while she washed her heel with the leftover water and soap, then she returned to her log. Turning her heel out, she showed him the sore spot, and he cut a smaller hole in the center of the circle, making a donut shape. Hanna felt awkward letting him treat her sweaty feet, but consoled herself that no one else smelled any better than she did.

Micah peeled off the plastic backing and placed the moleskin on her heel, pressing hard to ensure a tight grip. His hands felt cool on her warm feet. “This should keep the friction off. If you develop another
sore spot tomorrow, let me know, and I can treat it before a blister forms.”

She smiled her thanks, then he went to doctor one of the boys’ blisters.

Hanna didn’t know about everyone else, but fatigue began to claim her body once she finally relaxed. Micah prepared a fire as dusk settled quickly around them. The adults discussed their hometowns and occupations while the boys talked among themselves, mostly about girls, from what Hanna could gather. The Thompsons cuddled up on a log, sharing secret glances and whispers.

When darkness covered the land and the fire crackled with life, Hanna fished in her backpack for the marshmallows she’d brought.

“Anyone for roasted marshmallows?”

The youngest boy’s eyes lit up, but his parents announced it was time for all of them to turn in.

Groans and complaints sounded, but Mr. Schaeffer reminded them they’d be rising at dawn, and that seemed to smother further argument.

Hanna and Micah said good night as the Thompsons rose, arm and arm, and announced they were retiring too.

The night air, already abuzz with crickets and cicadas, was filled with the zipping of tent flaps and the rumble of muted conversation.

Hanna found a long, skinny stick, slipped two marshmallows on the end, and held it out over the fire with Micah’s.

The heat warmed her face and arms, and she slipped out of her light jacket.

“It’s burning,” Micah said from across the fire.

She pulled it out and blew at the flames. “Actually, I like them burned.” She pulled off a gooey, char-crusted confection and tasted. “Umm. It’s been years since I’ve had roasted marshmallows.”

“Too bad we don’t have some chocolate and graham crackers.”

She gave him a mock glare. “Don’t even get me going.”

The first ones tasted so good, she thought she could eat half the bag, but by the time she’d had four, the sweet taste had grown old.

“I think I’ll turn in now,” she said. “Want me to help put out the fire?”

“No, you go on. I’m going to stay up a bit longer.”

Taking her flashlight, she slipped into the pup tent and unrolled her sleeping bag. She settled into it, then grabbed her clothing bag and flattened it for a pillow. Night sounds seeped through the tent fabric, lulling her mind and her already-weary body. She left the flashlight on, flipping it upside down, then turned to her back.

Thank You, Lord, for the beauty of nature. Thank You for Your protection and provision.
She closed her eyes, and moments later she succumbed to the beckoning call of sleep.

The next morning Hanna woke to the faint light of dawn. She pulled the bag up over her shoulders, seeking warmth in the crisp morning air and longing for the jacket she’d taken off by the fire the previous night. She used to sleep soundly on these trips with her grandfather, but last night she’d tossed and turned, trying to find a soft spot. It seemed the ground had gotten harder over the years.

She sat up and stretched, rolling her shoulders around and tilting her head to each side. Silence permeated the campsite, and she thought she must be the first one up. But when she pulled back the flap, she saw Micah sitting on a log reading a book. On closer observation she realized it was a Bible, a little New Testament. She’d known he went to church on Sundays and said grace before he ate, but watching him in his quiet time with God stirred her heart.

Micah closed the Bible and knelt on the ground, propping his forearm on one knee, his head bowed in reverence. Something about seeing such a masculine man submitting himself to God affected her in a powerful way.

She remembered her dream, and suddenly it didn’t seem so absurd anymore. In fact, it seemed … intriguing.

She dropped the tent flap and fell back on her heels. She’d been asking God to prepare her heart for her chosen mate. Could it be that it was Micah?

But I’m not ready for this, God.

And he works for me. He’s my employee, Lord.

Not to mention he’d never given any indication that he was attracted to her.

The excuses fell silently around her. She sighed quietly.
Well, if this is Your willy God, maybe You’d better let him in on it too.

After a breakfast made with dehydrated hash browns and sausage, the group tore down camp and started toward the summit. Hanna’s gaze repeatedly found Micah’s back as he led the group. He’d proven his expertise on the job, and now she found herself admiring his strong faith.
Is he the one, Lord?
Maybe she was just imagining it all.

And if he was what God wanted for her, how did she go about getting it… er, him? She’d never been the aggressive type and had no desire to start now.

She glanced at him again, watching as he helped the youngest teen across a crevasse in the rocks. His biceps bulged under his T-shirt as he caught the boy.

When she reached the fissure, he waited on the other side for her, his arms outstretched. “Ready?”

She nodded, then jumped, and he caught her in his arms. A quiver of pleasure rippled through her stomach. She met his gaze, felt his warm breath on her forehead, then flushed at the intense look in his smoky eyes. Slowly, she slid from his embrace, still feeling the heat of his gaze. “Thanks,” she said, avoiding his eyes, certain he would be able to read her heart.

Hanna watched as he jogged to the front of the group. When she’d been in his arms, she’d felt no repulsion. To the contrary, she’d wanted to stay there longer. And, if she wasn’t mistaken, he’d wanted her to stay as well.
Okay, God, maybe You do know what You’re doing.
Hanna breathed a laugh. Of course, God knew what He was doing. He’d made all these awesome mountains; surely He could handle a little thing like her love life.

By midmorning, rivulets of perspiration ran down her temples. With a vigorous workout like this, she wondered why Micah felt he needed to jog every day. She knew from experience this second day was the most wearing part of the climb, but also the most exciting part, as she was always driven with eagerness to reach the summit. The footpaths grew steeper and claimed her undivided attention.

When they neared Half Dome, their pace slowed as they faced climbing the slabs. Micah handled the group with the aptitude of someone who’d done this many times. As for Hanna, the last part of the climb seemed much steeper and longer than it had when she was younger.

By the time they reached the summit, it was well past lunchtime. Once they’d all admired the impressive view, they sat down and replenished their energy. After the meal the family of five and the newlyweds posed for pictures with the majestic view in the background. The whipping wind tugged on Hanna’s ponytail and shirt, cooling her off. Micah hurried the group, reminding them they had to make it back to the CMC site before dark.

The descent was easier and provided a beautiful view. When they reached the campsite, they repeated last night’s rituals, and soon they were relaxing around a campfire while darkness closed in around them. All the water Hanna had drunk during dinner was having its effect, and nature’s call beckoned. The area outside of the fire’s light was an ambiguous black hole. Why hadn’t she thought to go before night fell?

For a moment she considered asking the ladies if one of them needed to go, but decided against it when she realized they might think she was afraid of the dark.

She slipped quietly away, flicking on her flashlight when she reached the shadowed edge of the campsite. As dark as it was, she wouldn’t have to go far, at least. Leaves and gravel crunched under her feet. Insects ceased their chirping as she invaded their space. Off in the distance, an owl hooted. Her heart thudded heavily in her chest. Mentally, she knew there was nothing out there, but the vast darkness beyond the ring of the flashlight terrified her. When she finished, she scurried back to camp,
then settled once again on her log, waiting for her heart to settle.

The Thompsons turned in, followed by the Schaeffers. Once again, she and Micah were left alone at the fire.

Hanna brought out the marshmallows. “Want some?”

“Sure.”

They found sticks and began skewering them. It took Micah twice as long to roast his because he held it above the flames, rotating it until it was golden brown. He teased her about her preference for charred marshmallows, and when one of his caught fire, he brought it to her.

“Thanks.” She slipped it carefully off the stick.

He sat on the log next to hers. “How long have you worked at Higher Grounds?”

“Three years. I dropped out of college when Gram needed help, and I’ve been there ever since.”

The firelight washed his face in a golden glow, settling softly on the uppermost planes and casting shadows in the cradle of his cheekbones and jaw line. “Are you the only grandchild or just the only one who could help at the time?”

“I have two sisters. But Natalies married with two little ones, and Paula works full-time. Not that I minded helping out. I love the mountains, and Higher Grounds is like a second home to me. How did you become a climbing guide?”

“When I first joined my church, the singles took a guided trip up Grand Teton. I went along and haven’t stopped climbing since.”

“Any brothers or sisters?”

He looked away, toward the heat of the flames. His jaw twitched.

She remembered he had a foster father and bit the inside of her mouth. He might not want to talk about family.

“A little sister.”

She searched her memory for another subject, but the churning wheels turned up nothing. The awkward silence stretched longer, becoming more natural as time passed. Finally, Micah asked about her church, and once again they were chatting.