She opened her eyes, smiled. “Mitch! You came. Hey, Gridwall.”
Gridwall spread his arms wide, grinned. “No fear. Uncle Jim is here.”
Mitch resisted the urge to draw her into his arms. Instead, he kissed her cheek, sat down beside her, took her right hand. “I’d have come sooner, but I just found out this afternoon. I’m so sorry.”
Her smile crumpled, despair in those gray eyes. “I can’t climb for six weeks, maybe longer.”
“The important thing is that you’re going to be okay.” He wanted to ask her what had happened, but he could tell she was exhausted. “You need to get some rest. We can talk about what happened tomorrow.”
“I can’t sleep. My ribs hurt too much to lie down, and these stupid pillows don’t stay fluffed. They sink and don’t hold me up.”
“I have an idea. I’ll be right back.” Mitch made a pit stop in the bathroom then got a drink of water. Back at Megs’ bedside, he stripped down to his jeans. “We’ll scoot you forward, and I’ll climb in behind you. You can use me as a pillow.”
“Okay.”
He helped her inch forward, her little gasps of pain cutting at him. He piled the pillows high against the headboard, then sat, his back against the pillows, his legs on either side of Megs. “Lean back against my chest. Nice and easy. There you go.”
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Megs said in a sleepy voice. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you, too. I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner.” He looked over at Dean. “Is it time for another pain pill?”
Dean turned out most of the lights. “Not for another hour.”
Damn.
“You just sleep now, okay?”
She held his hand. “Okay.”
Dean had already claimed the other bed, so Gridwall took the sofa. “Anyone have a pillow they can spare? Not you, Ahearn.”
“Sure.” Dean threw a pillow at him.
“Thanks.” Gridwall pointed. “She’s already asleep.”
Mitch drew the blankets up to Megs’ chest and then met Dean’s gaze. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
“She climbed thirty feet up to test that new hex for her sponsor. She let herself hang from it. It broke, and she fell. I thought it was over. She was unconscious at first. I carried her back to my van, put her in the back, and drove her to the ER. She woke up on the way in a lot of pain. They had to set her arm and kept her for observation.”
“She climbedthirtyfeet and hadn’t placed other protection?”
Dean shook his head. “It was an easy route, one we’ve both free soloed before. We both thought she was safe. She was just testing that hex. That turned out to be a big mistake. The moment she put her weight on it, it broke.”
“Yeah.” Mitch kissed the top of her head, the thought that he could have lost her making his heart ache. “A big mistake.”
“Your mother livedto regret not delivering the message, didn’t she? You called her from the hotel and let her have it. You stood up for me.” Megs tucked her receipt bookmark into the journal, certain Kurt would like to hear this story. “That was the first time you and I slept together. I don’t think it lived up to either of our expectations.”
Not by a long shot.
They’d spent a week at that hotel, the three men taking care of her—giving her meds, getting water and food for her, making sure she was as comfortable as she could be. “I’ve never felt more protected or loved. It was ridiculous, really, but sweet.”
Once the swelling had gone down in her ribs and she was able to lie down again, they’d packed everything into Dean’s and Mitch’s vans and had made the long drive back to Yosemite, Megs riding with Mitch, and Gridwall with Dean.
She’d spent the next four weeks in a hotel room pouting because she couldn’t climb, and everyone else was sending new routes left and right.
Megs laughed at the memory. “I was afraid there wouldn’t be anything left in the Valley for me to climb.”
But, of course, once she’d healed and returned to Camp 4, she’d found plenty of unclimbed rock still available. She’d had to take it slow at first, building up the strength in her left arm, getting back into climbing condition after six weeks of inaction.
