Do you really know your place? I’d wanted to ask. Because I’m confused as hell.
That’s a slippery-slope rumination. Right now, I need to focus on what I’m going to say to the woman inside that cabin and how she might react.
Will she invite me in or slam the door in my face like I’m deranged? Is it possible she could look at me and see a kindred spirit? Someone who gets her message down to my core.
When I started this trek, I had a vision of her eyes lighting with recognition right before she invited me in because she’s happy to have the company and is glad it’s me. Maybe we’d talk for a while before she sent me on my way. Maybe we’d even become friends.
God, that sounds pathetic.
“Knock on the door,” Jensen says, the gentleness in his voice telling me he can read every single thought pinging through my brain. “You won’t know what happens next in the story until you do.”
The words—or maybe his tone—calm me a little. And make me feel brave, which is totally unexpected. I don’t know what my friends saw that made them send him after me, but I’m so glad he’s here.
“Let’s do this.” I nod and take a step forward, then stop when I realize Jensen isn’t following me. “You’re coming, right?”
His full lips press together. “I thought you wanted to do this part on your own.”
Yeah. I did at the start. Before he caught up to me on the trail and made alone a whole lot less appealing. Now I’m used to the steady, solid thereness of him, and I’m not quite willing to give it up just yet.
“Come with me,” I say. “You know you want to.”
He grins, and God, it’s disorienting how deeply that smile affects me.
“Should I get out my camera so I can snap a pic?”
“Absolutely not.”
We cross the clearing, and I knock on the door with more confidence than I feel. We wait for a minute, then I knock again, harder. Nothing but silence answers.
Jensen moves to the window and cups his hands around his eyes to peer inside. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”
“Maybe she’s off writing in the woods?”
“You looking for Kristen?” a voice asks from the side of the cabin.
I spin around so fast I nearly lose my balance as an older man appears. He looks to be in his mid-sixties with a shaggy beard and leathery skin that speaks to decades in the outdoors. He wipes his hands on his jeans like he was in the middle of something he doesn’t mind abandoning.
“You just missed her,” he says. “Well, by a few hours. She left this morning. Had another few days on her reservation, but being alone can get real lonely for certain people.”
My center of gravity shifts at this news, as if this stranger just yanked off a tablecloth and left all the dishes wobbling.
“How is that possible?” My voice sounds thin and far away through the deafening rush of blood in my head. “We didn’t see her pass us on the way back down. Did she go further into the wilderness?”
He chuckles. “Not a chance. She’s probably halfway to Tahoe by now,” the man says, like we’re discussing the weather and not the disintegration of my bucket list dream. “That’s where she said she was headed next. I’m Rick, by the way. Cabin caretaker, among other titles.”
“You live up here?” Jensen asks as his hand finds the small of my back. It’s the barest pressure, and I hate how much I need it. The warmth of his palm is keeping me tethered to this conversation instead of spiraling into the dark, familiar tunnel of what an impulsive idiot I am.
“During the summer season,” Rick explains. “About a quarter mile in that direction.” He points to a narrow trail snaking through the trees. “This place has gotten popular in recent years. More people wanting to get away from it all. I make sure the cabin’s stocked and tidy up between guests. The lady who owns it doesn’t get up here much anymore, but she’s not willing to sell. Hoping her city kids will eventually see the value.”
“It seems pretty special,” Jensen says. “Although it’s a commitment to get here.”
“A lot easier if you come in by ATV,” Rick says with a laugh. “I’m partial to the hike you guys just did. Makes the destination worth the miles.”
I blink. “ATV?”
“Oh, sure. The forest service put in a wider trail about a decadeago, for fire access primarily. But most people choose that method of transport.”
I feel Jensen’s gaze but refuse to look at him for fear of losing my shit and shattering into a thousand humiliated pieces right here in front of Rick the caretaker. That would give him a good story for the next guests.
