“I’m a fucking Eagle Scout. I can manage a moderate hike alone.”
“Ooh, look how fancy you are.” She pretend-coughed, “Nerd.”
I drew myself up. “Eagle rank demonstrates proven leadership and shows a dedication to the planet and the community.”
“Yeah. I’m still not losing my co-CEO on this trip.” She tapped her chin. “Actually, that should’ve been the whole point. Why didn’t I think of it?”
“Ha, ha. Like I’d ever get lost.” A drop of rain landed on my nose. I glanced up at the low clouds that had threatened all morning. I’d hoped the rain would hold off until the afternoon, but I supposed precipitation was inevitable in a rainforest. “Better have your rain gear handy.”
“Rain gear?” She wrinkled her nose when a raindrop splatted on her cheek. “Oh. Didn’t bring it.”
“So you hauled every item in your closet here in a suitcase that’s bigger than you, and you forgot to pack rain gear during the rainy season?”
“I packed it. But the sky was clear, and I was worried about the stomachache Gina had last night, so I packed medicine for her, and some snacks, then my rain jacket didn’t fit.” She patted the strap of her ridiculously tiny backpack.
“Your loss.” I tugged my rain jacket out of my larger pack and tied it around my waist.
“Yeah, okay.” She snorted. “Now you totally look like a nerd.”
“Better to look like a nerd than to get soaked. You’ll see.” I turned my back to her and headed up the trail, not bothering to see if she followed.
Of course she did. I set a pace that was likely brutal on her shorter legs, and soon I heard her breath sawing in and out. Stubbornly, she kept up, her footsteps quick to match my long strides. This time, I was mindful of the branches I pushed out of my way.
The patter of raindrops accelerated to a moderate sprinkle, then a steady downpour. My boots were waterproof, but rain and mud from the trail coated the bottoms of my pants. My hair fell into my eyes, and it was the thought of her long braid being turned into a sodden rope that made me stop and unwind my jacket from my waist.
“Here.” I held it out to her, swiping my hair off my forehead.
“What?” With the back of her hand, she wiped water off her cheeks.
“Take it.” With the hair out of my eyes, I could see exactly how wet she was. I averted my gaze from the T-shirt plastered to her stomach and the obvious outline of her sports bra that didn’t disguise her pointed nipples.
“I’m not taking your rain jacket. You’ll get soaked.”
“I don’t mind. Take it.”
She hesitated as raindrops pattered onto our heads. “If you’re sure?”
When I nodded, she pulled it from my outstretched hand. Even over her backpack, it could’ve wrapped around her twice. The hood flopped over her eyes until she folded it back. She rolled the sleeves a few times until her hands emerged at the bottom. “Thanks.”
Without another word, I forged ahead. My shirt stuck to my chest, and my hiking pants chafed against my balls, but I’d have been crankier if I was wearing the jacket and Bridget was drenched.
We hiked in silence past towering palm trees, broad-leafed bromeliads collecting the rain, and prehistoric-looking ferns foranother fifteen minutes until we came to a metal suspension bridge over a river. I walked out halfway then paused, leaning my elbows on the handrail to look down.
Water ran sluggishly through a shallow channel. In the center, rain-slicked rocks nestled into a sandy fluvial deposit. Tall trees leaned over the river. Lush green undergrowth met the water at the bank. I suspected that if the water hadn’t looked like hammered metal from the rain smashing against it, we could’ve seen all the way to the bottom. I scanned the sandy islet, then the riverbank, and found what I’d hoped for. Almost indistinguishable from the gray-brown mud were the unmistakable ridges of a crocodile’s back.
I pointed. “Look. There by that rock with the lichen growing on it.”
“Is that an alligator?”
“Alligators have rounded snouts. Crocodiles, like that guy, have V-shaped snouts. If we were a little closer, we could see at least one of its lower teeth. Besides, there aren’t any alligators in Costa Rica. Only crocodiles and caimans. And that one’s too big to be a caiman.”
“I’ve got to get a picture for my niece.” She shucked off my jacket and slipped off her pack, then dug inside, pulling out items—was that ahairbrush?
“Aha!” She pulled out her phone, but something else flew out of her hand. “Oh, no,” she said with the panicked tone of someone who’s lost something precious.
She scrabbled in the air for it, and something heavy, followed by something lighter and flappy, plummeted to the river below. There was a thrash and a snap as whatever she’d dropped was devoured by the crocodile.
11
