Last night was good progress. It took incredible restraint to leave Sadie’s tent when I did; I slept out under the stars again, but it was even lonelier than I expected without her by my side. I couldn’t stop thinking about our waterfall kiss—how the day started so perfectly, the two of us together in our own little world, but went steeply downhill from there. Dueling shades of guilt battled it out in my head all night long: that I let my guard down in the first place—and that I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.
Which is why I can hardly look at her today.
It’s not that I don’t want to—
It’s that I want her too much.
We trek single file along the foothill path, following the shape of the landscape, each view more incredible than the last as the path winds higher and higher. There aren’t any designated rest stops like on other trails in the park—just a few areas where the path widens a bit more than it does elsewhere. Despite the scenery, it’s one of our more arduous hikes.
“Wow, it’s really pretty up here,” Sadie says quietly, pulling me out of my head. It’s the first time we’ve spoken all day—I’m painfully aware of how little I’ve said to her since last night.
“Yeah,” I reply. “It really is.”
A flash of blue catches my eye in the treetops below. My tradition along this stretch of the trail is to count all the mountain bluebirds—whenever Dad or I spotted one flitting between tree branches for the first time each trip, he’d whistle the melody of their birdsong. One time, a bird sang back. We used to wear matching ball caps in the exact shade of their feathers, but mine eventually faded so much it was practically white—a reminder that everything changes in time, like it or not.
We pause for a snack break in midafternoon. With no benches or boulders to sit on, most of the group sits down on the trodden dirt path—even Sadie, who most certainly would have scoffed at the idea on her first few days out here.
Zoe is the only one who insists on standing.
“I’ve got a tarp if you want it?” I offer, but she declines.
I settle down between Sadie and Trey, then rummage around in my pack for a protein bar. There’s a vibration from one of the interior pockets—my phone. Maybe it’s Matteo, finally checking in to let me know how his progress with Joshua is going?
When I pull it out, though, it’s not a text notification on the screen, and it’s not from Matteo at all—it’s an email from Sky Ranger.
I swipe it open.
From: [email protected]
Subject: Update on the Job Opening
Hello again, Thorn,
Hope all is well. Brief update here: I’ve got someone with serious interest in my Lead Hiking Guide position, but since I offered to you first, I thought it was only right to circle back to you before moving forward. This isn’t to pressure you unduly, but if you do think you might be interested in making the move—especially to my Arizona or Texas locations, where I have the most need at the moment—I’ll give you priority if you want the job. I know there are a number of factors to consider, so I truly don’t mean to pressure you—but if you are interested, the sooner you can let me know, the better. I can hold it for a day, maybe two.
Talk soon,
Sky Ranger
“Thorn?” Sadie says. “You good?”
Only now do I realize I’m not lookingatmy phone so much as fixated on its screen like I’m trying to decipher an alien language.
“Oh, yeah, it’s just an email,” I tell her, though the words feel inadequate as they roll off my tongue.
It’s hard to describe the feelings that hit while reading Sky’s email: an immediate gut reaction ofI could never leavefollowed by the smallest whisper ofBut what if I did…?It’s been months since he first brought it up, but now that I have to make an actual choice—and soon—it feels real.
I can measure my life in experiences I’ve had on the trails of Valerie Forest National Park: first with my dad, later with MatteoandDad, and for the last six years, with the tour company and the thousands of trekkers I’ve guided along the way. I’ve got roots deep as any trees out here—it’s hard to imagine ever leaving, both on the personal and professional fronts.
That said, I can’t help but wonder what life would look like if I were to move somewhere else. I don’t know anyone in Arizona or Texas—
Except, actually, I do.Sadielives in Texas.
I tuck my phone back inside my pack, resisting the urge to check just how far the drive would be between Sky’s tour headquarters—somewhere in the Hill Country—and Austin, where Sadie lives.
I shake the thought out of my head, try to put it completely out of my mind.
