“But—” They had a point. But while Justine prioritized independence, she didn’t relish the idea of travelling alone. Her shorter stature made her all the more attractive to uncouth gentlemen. She stared at the walls of the inn, as if she could see inside the dining room that still functioned as a sick room. The building didn’t have another room that could accommodate all of the bedside caregivers. “Shouldn’t we have an expedition team meeting? Or at least a Ladies’ Alpine Society meeting first?”
Prudence’s frown was full of sympathy. “Normally I would say yes, but Ophelia is overwhelmed with grief and guilt.”
Justine felt the criticism as if Prudence were saying it about herself. “That is to be very much expected—”
Prudence’s hands lifted in a defensive gesture. “It isn’t harshly meant. I only mean to say that Ophelia cannot manage a meeting. And Eleanor is consumed by comforting all of them. Which is fine. Reasonable. But you and I have no reason to stay. We do not add, and we cannot help.”
Justine’s head dropped. Prudence had a point. But she wasn’t ready to leave Ophelia. Or Zermatt. Or anything. She wanted to stay in this chrysalis of time, where the world didn’t know of their failure, and hope for the best was still a viable ember. “May I think about it?”
Prudence gave a tight smile. “Of course. We plan to make arrangements in the morning. Perhaps you can come by our room directly after breakfast and tell us what you’d like to do?”
Justine nodded and let them head back in. She wasn’t ready to be inside quite yet. She wasn’t ready for anything other than staying here in Zermatt. She didn’t want to return to England where she would go back to her structured dresses andlady’s maid. The indoor life of a well-bred woman was awaiting her, and it sounded terrible.
It was then that she finally saw Karl. After a week without seeing even a wisp of him, she was happy to at least catch a glimpse. He was behind the inn, once again with his hatchet. She ran between the inn and the animal pens, reaching him as he turned to see what the noise was.
“You’re here,” she said in between breaths. Thank goodness he smiled at her. She would have broken if he had been upset with her.
“Yes, of course. Where else would I be?”
“I haven’t seen you all week.”
He nodded and gestured for her to walk with him as he continued on the goat path. But his eyes were on the ground. “It has been a very busy week.”
She swallowed hard. For everyone else. For people who had a purpose or a person. “Yes, a very busy week.”
“Are you well?” He scrutinized her face as he asked, and it made her think this was not polite banter, but rather a guide checking in with his client.
“My scratches and bruises have been healing up nicely.” That part was true. She’d had impressive purple marks on her thighs from where she hit the ground as Prudence and Eleanor had gone over the edge. Prudence and Eleanor both sported impressive cuts and bruises on their faces, shoulders, arms, and hands, as they’d both swung against the jagged wall of the Hörnli Ridge. “Nothing like Mrs. Moon or Mrs. Bridewell’s injuries.”
“Good,” he grunted.
“And you?” she asked. He carried a hatchet and was dressed in his usual work attire. He seemed extremely hale. The straight lines of his jaw and the bright flower-blue of his eyes once again sang their siren song. She wanted him. It made her think she had been the most ridiculous person in the world.Here was a man who promised not to cage her. Who had led her into the most dangerous mountain in the world. Of course he would not try to stifle her. And at the most basic levels, everyone else here had someone to care for and care for them in return. It was Justine who had pushed everyone away, who had insisted that she could care for herself in every way possible, who was lonely.
He looked at her strangely and then looked down at himself. “All is well,” he said, echoing what they said on the mountain.
“Of course,” she said, feeling very stupid, but still glad to be with him. It was her turn to stare at the trail unfurling in front of them. “Where are you going?”
“Another fence is down. A cow knocked it over.”
“May I come with you?” Justine asked, looking across the valley. How was she supposed to return to England when this existed in the world?
“If you like.”
She did. She missed the company of another person. They just could exist together. Talk about nothing or something. They found the broken fence, and Justine sat in the grass and chatted aimlessly about her week: the sketches—terrible—Lord Rascomb’s prognosis—not good—eating alone in her room—it had its moments.
She picked at the grass and the clover buds that studded the ground.
Karl hauled over the log he was about to split for the rail. “Justine,” he said, his voice airy as he caught his breath. He put his hands on his hips, showcasing those wide, capable shoulders. “What do you want?”
She looked up at him, all brawny and strong. She bet he was warm. Her skin had taken on the chill that ran underneath the sunny afternoon. “What do you mean?”
“Why are you out here? With me?”
Her brows knitted together, and if she could have torn every blade of grass to shreds she would have. Instead of forcing her to answer, he turned to hacking at the log, splitting it. The crack of the metal hitting wood gave her time to think. He finished, and then looked at her expectantly.
What she didn’t want to admit came flying out of her mouth. “We went through something terrible, and no one will talk about it. We almost died, Karl. And we still didn’t get up that damn mountain. Everything we wanted has evaporated, and Lord Rascomb still hasn’t woken up, and Prudence and Mr. Moon want to leave, and nothing feels right!”
Karl put his hatchet axe-head down and leaned on the handle. “I cannot fix any of those things.”
