Her father cleared his throat. “Travis and Eliana are expecting a baby.”
_____
“Are you honestly trying to convince me that you’d draft Kruger over Sokolov?” Gentry tromped along the spongy forest path trying to keep up. Jenna was a fast hiker, probably because she had half the mass to carry up the mountainside.
“There’s no question.”
“I have a hundred questions. Like why hasn’t his plus minus improved if he has so much potential. How in God’s green earth do you think he’s going to stack up against defenders like Hutzyluk and Farmer when they’ve got at least forty pounds on the guy?”
“Amazing things come in small packages.” Jenna tossed a look over her shoulder and caught him staring directly at her backside.
As they rounded the corner, the path opened up, and Gentry sped up to hike next to her. “You’re not even out of breath.”
“Just because I don’t exhale like Darth Vader doesn’t mean my heart rate isn’t up.” She took a drink from the hose protruding from her hiking backpack. They stopped next to the trunk of a Lodgepole Pine, and Gentry glanced down the path.
“Guess we got a little bit ahead. Should we wait?”
Jenna nodded, walking out a little ways onto the ledge and looking out over the tourmaline water of Lake Louise. “Not the worst place to stop and take in the view.”
Gentry took in the sheen of sweat on the back of her neck and the blonde baby hairs there curling under the adjustable band of her baseball cap. He agreed wholeheartedly.
Without thinking, he reached out and snagged the bill of the hat. “I think you should try wearing this backward.” He twisted, and Jenna yelped as the hat caught around her ponytail.
“Gentry!” She scowled and took it off. “That doesn’t work when your hair is pulled through the back.”
He laughed as she tried to tamp down her now dishevelled hair and finally gave up, pulling out her elastic and starting over.
“Here, let me do it.” Gentry held out a hand, and she gave him a skeptical look.
“You know how to do ponytails?”
He nodded. “I’m excellent.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He grinned as she handed him the hair tie, then turned her around and threaded his fingers in her hair, pulling it up away from her shoulders. His pulse hummed, kicking up like he was in the middle of scaling another incline.
“Ow.”
“Sorry,” he breathed. He was gentle as he smoothed out the ridges, then pulled her hair through the elastic. He twisted it a second time with clumsy fingers, then a third, which got it tight enough to hold. “There.” Gentry turned her back around, admiring his handiwork.
“Does it look ridiculous?”
He shook his head. “You never look ridiculous.”
The air seemed to go still around them, thick and slow like cold maple syrup. His hands were still on her shoulders, and suddenly, the only sensation he could process was the soft cotton of her shirt and the heat from her skin seeping into his fingertips.
“Thanks—”
“Can I kiss you?” Gentry’s words came out in a rush, and Jenna’s eyes widened, looking more verdant than the pine boughs jutting out next to them.
Jenna’s lips curled into a slow smile, then she lifted her hat and pulled it onto her head backward. “Do you ever ask questions you don’t know the answer to?”
Country woke in a cold sweat. He bolted up. Grey morning light filtered through the blinds. He was in his house. In his own bed. Pitching a tent that was physically painful.
He threw off his damp sheets and winced as he walked to the bathroom. What time was it? He was guessing around seven thirty by how light it was already. Why hadn’t his alarm gone off?
He splashed cold water on his face and stared at his wan expression in the mirror. That was the fourth night in a row he’d dreamed of her. Never the same vignette, but always the same result. Turned on and hollowed out.
