Page 23 of When The Mountains Held Us

A quick internet search tells me there are several easy trails to choose from, and I pick one that will take me through a dense forested area. It might not be a hike to the top of one of the magnificent mountains in the distance, but, if anything, it’ll get me out of the motel room and give me a little exercise. The promise of fresh air and quiet solitude spurs me into action, and I quickly drain the remainder of the coffee.

I change into a pair of black leggings and a fitted T-shirt, throwing my blonde hair into a ponytail at the base of my skull, before I complete the look with my favorite baseball cap. Grabbing my keys and phone, I start the car and pull out of the motel parking lot, following the GPS instructions to the trailhead. There are no cars in the parking area when I arrive, and I breathe a sigh of relief at my chances of not running into another enthusiastic local and having to socialize.

I like waitressing—and, I guess, now bartending—but the social aspect of the job is draining, leaving me feeling like I want to escape into myself and be alone with my own thoughts. Nevermind that my own thoughts have begun to feel like a hostile battleground lately, and I’m only ever one small memory away from stepping right into the line of enemy fire.

The trail beneath my dirty sneakers is riddled with rocks and roots, and I have to concentrate on watching my footing so I don’t wind up with a broken ankle. The purposeful focus is a welcome reprieve from the maelstrom of my busy mind. The further I head down the trail, the quieter it becomes, as if the entire forest around me is holding its breath. It’s strange, but not uncomfortable. In fact, I find that with each step I take, the ever-present fear and anxiety fade away until my feet pick up pace. Soon enough, I’m moving with careful, confident steps deeper into the woods.

The trail winds its way around large rocks and trunks, and every so often, I glimpse a small peak of the mountains through the thicket of green to my left. The peaks of those mountains spur me on as if nature itself is promising a life-changing view if only I keep moving, keep going, keep pushing onward. The soft breeze stirs my blonde flyaways and beckons me forward.

I’ve worked up a sweat, and my heart is pounding, but every steady thump of my heart pushes me forward faster. There’s a bend in the trail up ahead, and my eyes shift across the scenery, greedily drinking in the sight of the colorful wildflowers popping up out of the dark dirt on the side of the trail. They blow in the breeze as if waving hello to me.

Making it around the bend in the path, I come to a sudden stop at the sight of a large dog standing in the middle of the trail, its tongue lolling out the side of its mouth as it studies me. I do a quick glance around, but I don’t see anyone with the dog, and I get a nervous tingle in my stomach as I wonder if it’s a stray. The dog wags its tail and slowly approaches me, its black and brown fur rippling as the muscles beneath it shift.

I stand still, catching my breath as the dog moves closer. When it’s standing in front of me, it looks up with wide golden-brown eyes and then tentatively licks my hand. I melt.

“Hey buddy,” I whisper, and its ears perk up as its tail takes on a frantic wagging motion. I smooth my hand over the dog’s head, its soft fur sliding through my fingers as I scratch behind its ears. Dropping to my knees, I laugh as the dog drops to the ground and rolls onto its back, looking at me upside down and practically begging for belly rubs.

“Bandit!”

At this point, I think I’d recognize that voice anywhere. Rough like sandpaper, but as intoxicating as the bourbon he was drinking last night.

Levi stops short when he takes in the sight of us on the ground in the middle of the trail. I smile up at him before returning my gaze to Bandit, who does not seem pleased at the stalled belly rub.

“Cute dog.”

“Yeah, he’s something. I hope he’s not bothering you.” Levi closes the distance between us, and I stand.

“Not at all.”

“If I knew you were planning on exploring the trails this morning, I would have offered to show you around.”

“It was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing, actually. I was fully prepared to sleep until my shift tonight. Actually, I should be heading back. I might need a nap before I go in tonight.” I laugh awkwardly and watch as he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand.

He’s dressed in a pair of shorts and a plain white T-shirt that’s practically see-through in the front from where his sweat has soaked it. My mouth goes dry as I take in the firm muscles beneath the thin fabric, my mind sprinting towards something I have no business thinking about a man I just met.

Especially not with everything going on in my life right now. I am in no position to be getting romantically involved with someone so soon after the most devastating relationship of my life.

“Well, I’m glad you got out either way. There are so many trails through these mountains, and not one of them is the same as the next.” His words solidify my previous hope that maybe there’s something new to discover the more I venture. “You mind if we walk with you?” Levi gestures towards the trail behind me, and Bandit looks up at me with pleading eyes. How could I say no to that face?

Undecided which face I’m referring to.

“It’s beautiful out here. Peaceful. Quiet. It’s a nice change from where I come from,” I say as we take off down the trail in the direction of my car.

“Where are you from?”

We walk side by side as Bandit bounds ahead of us, chasing and snapping at a butterfly that flits just out of his reach above the path.

“A suburb down in Pennsylvania. It’s not a big city, but it’s nowhere near as intimate as this place.”

He hums his understanding.

“Nothing is quite as intimate as a small town where everyone knows everyone else’s business. It can be hard to keep to yourself in a place like this.”

“Is that your not-so-subtle way of telling me not to bother trying?” I’m surprised by the way he manages to see right through the facade I hide behind. But I’m even more surprised to discover that I don’t care. Maybe I even like it a little bit.

“It’s certainly not my place to tell you what to do or what not to do. But, if I can offer a bit of advice, I’d say that life here can be tough when you find yourself on the outside of a close-knit community.”

I consider his words, biting my lip in thought as we walk. On the one hand, I’m terrified of letting people in after the last person I opened my heart to ripped it out and stomped all over it. On the other hand, I left when I did because I was desperately searching for the type of community this town seems to promise. Among other reasons, of course. I guess I didn’t take into account how hard I would have to work to battle my own raging emotions screaming at me to run in the opposite direction.