Conrad answered Wendy’s questions about his time at the monastery, describing his daily life, telling her about the work he’d done to help the monks, how meditation had helped him cope with survival guilt.
“Do you feel guilty for making it back alive?”
“In my mind, I know I shouldn’t, but in my heart…” How could he explain? “I know I couldn’t have done anything to save them, but if I had led that morning and died instead of Bruce, there wouldn’t have been anyone left behind to grieve besides my mother.”
Kenzie shot to her feet. “That’s not true! It’s not true.”
Were those tears on her face?
Shit.
Looking surprised at her own outburst, she walked to the kitchen counter, grabbed a tissue, wiped her tears away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“Is this hard for you to hear?” Wendy asked her.
Kenzie wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Of course, it is. I was at The Cave at the time. Most of the Team was there. We all felt helpless. No one spoke. All we could do was listen, hold our breath, and pray that Harrison had survived.”
“How did you feel when you heard the news that he was okay?”
“The whole room exploded in cheers.” Kenzie gave Harrison a wobbly smile. “I wassorelieved.”
Conrad had thought of Kenzie during those long months at the monastery, but he’d never thought about how his brush with death might have affected her or the rest of the Team. Her obvious concern for him, the intensity of her emotions—he’d be a liar if he said it didn’t touch him. Still, if he’d been leading instead of Bruce, she and the others would have gotten over his death. Bruce’s wife and kids would miss their husband and father for the rest of their lives.
He knew what it was to lose a father.
Wendy turned her gaze back to Conrad. “I guess you would have had plenty of people grieving for you.”
“Not a wife. Not children.”
“I hear you’ve joined the Ski Patrol at Ski Scarlet for the winter. Have you given up climbing?”
“I’m not sure.”
“You’re a hero to a lot of people out there. They’d be disappointed if you—”
“I’m not a hero.” Why did people say that? “I’m just an athlete. Whether I’ll continue with this sport or move on to something else, I can’t say. I haven’t decided.”
Wendy ran through the rest of her questions, mostly basic stuff like what had gotten him into climbing, where he’d grown up, and some technical climbing stuff. Then she turned off the recorder and stood. “I know it couldn’t have been easy to talk about this, but I’m grateful that you trusted me. I’ll have a photographer get in touch with you for a photo.”
Oh, great.
Wasn’t that just what he wanted?
“There are climbing photos in the press section of my website if you need those.”
“Thanks.” Wendy slipped her recorder into an oversized handbag. “I’ll do my best to do justice to your story. It’s scheduled to run on the front page. Not this Sunday, but the next. Have a good night. You, too, Kenzie.”
When the door closed behind her, Conrad locked it—and let out a breath.
Then Kenzie was there, sweet Kenzie. She slid her arms around him. “That was incredibly brave. Are you okay?”
Was he okay?
Hell, he didn’t know. He’d ripped his chest open, torn out his heart, and thrown it on the floor. But he was alive, and he was with Kenzie.
He kissed the top of her head. “Yeah. I’m okay. How about you?”
“I’m good. Sorry that I got emotional.”
