Honestly, Scout thought Elizabeth was blowing things out of proportion. Plenty of people were afraid of heights. It wasn’t some deep, unresolved issue—it was common sense, plain and simple. It was a healthy respect for gravity.
But Elizabeth was relentless, always going on about taking “small steps.”
Scout let out a breath.Fine.If she had to pick between taking this small step or sitting in a car with Chase—someone she was extremely disappointed in—then up Beehive Trail she would go. It probably wasn’t as hard as Chase made it out to be. Scout had heard that before—Elizabeth reminded her all the time. Reality rarely lived up to the drama of imagination. If Naki said it would only take him an hour to get up and back, then fine—Scout could handle an hour. She’d handled worse. Besides, it would be good practice. A controlled dose of discomfort. She could practically hear Elizabeth’s voice in her head: Small steps, Scout. That’s how you climb.
The first part was straightforward, winding through thewoods on a clearly marked trail. Moving fast, it didn’t take long to reach Naki—though he was halfway up a stretch of steep granite steps, his movements deliberate and sure-footed despite the rain.
As if he sensed she was nearby, he paused to look down at her over his shoulder. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Iama ranger.” Scout gripped a step above her for balance.
Naki didn’t push back. “The trail gets harder from here on. Lots of rock scrambles. Watch your footing.”
As if she didn’t knowthat! But as the granite staircase gave way to a narrow ledge, Scout immediately understood what he meant. The rock face sloped downward at a sharp angle, slick with rain. She nearly slipped but caught herself with her hands against the wall.Don’t look down, don’t look down.
Naki reached the first iron rung ladder and paused to glance down at her. “Scout, it’s okay to turn back.”
“Not happening,” Scout said, already scrambling to keep up with him. And it was ascramble! The ladder rungs were cold and slippery under her hands.
“You’re okay with heights, right?” Naki said, climbing effortlessly.
She hoped he wasn’t expecting a response to that.
The trail became even steeper, the rungs spaced farther apart, forcing her to stretch uncomfortably between each one. The sound of rain hitting the metal echoed in her ears. By the time they reached the narrowest ledge, Scout’s leg muscles were screaming. She couldn’t go any farther. She pressed herself flat against the rock wall, her fingers digging into the cracks for stability, her eyes squeezed shut so she couldn’t look down.
Naki, who’d been climbing swiftly, gracefully, like he’d done this a hundred times before, called to her as if he knew she was losing it. “We’re almost to the summit.”
She hoped Naki was telling her the truth. Her dad usedto trick her into enduring long hikes. “Just around the bend, Scout,” or “Over this hill and we’ll be at the top.”
Naki’s deep voice swirled around her. “You’re doing just fine, Scout. Just fine.”
She opened her eyes, looking up toward Naki, and let out a long exhale.Pull it together, girl, she told herself.You are arangerfor the National Park Service, for heaven’s sake.Slowly, steadily, she put one foot in front of the other until she reached the summit marker. With one hand braced against the marker, the other gripping her knee, she leaned forward, dragging in sharp, uneven breaths. Out of shape? Maybe. Not used to the altitude? Possibly. Or—Elizabeth would no doubt argue—just another lovely symptom of acrophobia.
But she was here, wasn’t she? She hadn’t avoided the climb. That had to count for something.
Naki, not even breathing hard, was already scanning the area, walking carefully over the uneven boulders. The rain had slowed to a drizzle, the world eerily quiet except for the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. He paused for a moment, hands on his hips, facing the Gulf of Maine. “Even under gray skies, isn’t it spectacular? The ocean stretches out in every direction. Look at that view, Scout.”
But she was trying very hardnotto look. “You think the gold will be tucked in a rock like last time?”
He spun around to face her. “‘The hive upon the hill hides a secret within its stones, but only for those bold enough to climb to its peak.’” He lifted his hands. “Where else could it be?”
True. There wasn’t much else here besides boulders. They combed the area, each taking a section, until Naki called to her. “Scout. Can you come over here?”
She turned to see him down on his knees, peering under a nondescript boulder.
“Can you fit your hand in this crevice?”
Oh, not again. Her poor hand. She wished she’d thought to bring gloves. She crouched down beside him and squeezed her left hand—not her scratched-up right hand—into a small opening in the rock. She pulled it out again. “I have to get lower.” She lay on her side on the wet boulder and tried again.
This time, her arm was able to get farther in, deeper, deeper, until she was able to feel something cold and hard. Her fingers ran around the edges. “I think it’s...” She wiggled closer so she could put her hand around the sharp corners. “I think it is!” She tugged and tugged, and it started to move, so she wiggled herself back a bit. Naki braced her shoulders to give her support, and for a moment, his nearness almost undid her. The way his hands held her—strong and firm, but so gentle too. She squeezed her eyes shut.Get to work, girl.She pulled once more, and it loosened enough that she could get her fingers around it. Slowly, out it came. A tarnished brass box.
Naki took it from her and waited to open the box until she sat up. Inside was a sack, just like the other box, with gold coins inside. Scout’s and Naki’s eyes caught, sharing a feeling of awe.
“All this time,” she said, “it’s been here. Think of the thousands of people who have summited this trail every summer and stood on top of a treasure without knowing it. Hidden in plain sight.”
Naki tipped his head. “Not exactly plain sight.”
“How’d you figure out it could be underneath?”
