"We should get it properly checked," he said. "Rule out anything I might have missed."
“How are we going to get down from the mountain with my bad ankle?” I spoke, worried it’d take us hours to reach the bottom.
Cole almost chuckled, but composed himself in a snap as he got up. “I think you are forgetting that I usually drive to and from my cabin…”
“Ha ha! Very funny, you left your truck?—”
“I’m walking. Sarah, please watch Emma and keep the door locked in case bears come.” He interrupted me before I could finish my retort.
“Yes, Uncle C!” Sarah stood up and grabbed the keys as he was leaving.
The thought ran through my mind, then suddenly it came, “Wait, bears?!”
“I’m kidding.” Cole closed the door behind him.
Sarah locked the door and turned to me, “Actually, he’s only half kidding.”
At the clinic in town, the verdict was a moderate sprain. No fracture, no serious damage. I was fitted with an air cast and given crutches that I immediately hated.
"You're really brave, Ms. Reed," Sarah announced solemnly from the waiting room chair. "Uncle C. says brave people still get scared. They just do the thing anyway."
"Your uncle is right," I said, my voice thick.
The drive back to my cabin was quiet. Sarah fell asleep within minutes, exhausted by the evening's drama. The darkness outside felt protective, soft.
At my door, Cole helped me navigate the porch steps. The crutches were awkward, but his hand under my elbow kept me steady.
He turned to face me, his expression serious in the porch light. "I'll pick you up and drop you off for school every day until your ankle heals. No arguments."
"Cole, you don't have to?—"
"No arguments," he repeated. "You faced that mountain today. You let me help you. Let me keep helping."
I was too exhausted, too emotionally distraught to protest further. "Okay… thank you."
He searched my face for a long moment, something unreadable in his blue eyes. Then he nodded slowly. "Get some rest, Emma."
I watched his taillights disappear down my dirt road. The cabin was dark and silent, but the silence felt different now. It wasn't haunted. It was full, so full of everything that had happened. The panic, the fall, the steady strength of his arm around me, the stories shared on the trail.
I sat on my couch, ankle elevated, and stared at the dark window. But I wasn't seeing my reflection. I was seeing the sunset from that ridge. The view Lily had loved and I'd been too afraid to witness.
The realization settled over me like a warm blanket, terrifying and wonderful all at once.
I wanted to go back.
Not to the fear. To the beauty. I wanted to see that creek with Sarah, to stand on that ridge with Cole, to look at the world without grief as my only filter.
The fear was still there—a cold stone in my stomach. But it wasn't alone anymore.
Now there was also a pull, impossible to ignore.
A pull toward the man who had carried my weight up the mountain.
And toward the wild, beautiful world he called home.
9.Cole
The instant noodles were supposed to be dinner. They became, instead, a lesson in everything I didn't know about taking care of someone.
