In Between the Earth and Sky

by Heidi Hutchinson

  She did her minimal dishes and made a small pot of coffee, the rich aroma circling through the small apartment and surrounding her in warm familiarity.

  Coffee at night was her dad’s thing. He said the caffeine helped him think. Lydia understood more about that now. But she had too many good memories tied to late night coffee and music for her to give it up.

  Maybe her brain had been permanently rewired to needing the caffeine to relax. She would probably never know for sure.

  All she knew was coffee was for the night, the stars, and the music. She set the needle on her old record player to one of the vinyls she’d been able to claim the day before. The rich sounds of Jimi Hendrix on guitar made her smile wistfully. Keeping the volume low, she angled the speakers towards the window and then climbed outside with her coffee.

  As she settled on a brick outcropping on the north side of her cement ledge with her legs dangling over the side of the building, Mrs. Anastassakis propped her window open to let “The Wind Cries Mary” inside.

  If she moved home to her mom’s she’d have to give all of this up. The late-night coffee, Hendrix, quiet moments of contemplation and gratitude. As much as she loved her mom and wished she could help her, she had to protect her own delicate heart as well.

  Of all the things she’d learned from her dad, that one was the most important.

  ***

  Remington

  “Dude, why is your bike so fucked up?”

  Remington glanced sideways at his friend, Ollie, and drained the water bottle he’d already had pressed to his lips. He flattened the plastic bottle in his hand and screwed the lid back on.

  “I ran over a…uh, bobcat…couple weeks ago.” He wasn’t sure why he lied. At first, he thought it was because he didn’t want his friends to know he’d run over a person, because that wasn’t cool. But as he turned that thought over in his mind her realized he wasn’t ready to share Lydia with the world yet.

  In his mind, she existed somewhere outside reality. Almost in a parallel dimension.

  “A bobcat?” Ollie did a double-take. “Holy shit, are you okay?”

  Remington smirked. Was he okay?

  “Yeah, near miss is all.” He looked down at the visible reminders on his bent and bruised mountain bike. He’d been able to fix it enough so it was again in working order. But the tell-tale signs of a struggle were still there.

  “Good thing it didn’t fight back,” Ollie muttered, launching onto his seat to continue their ride.

  Remington’s smirk faded and he ground his teeth to distract from the ache in his head. Oh, she had fought back all right. And he was still recovering. Invisible cuts and scrapes on his soul and mind. Places she had chipped away at until they were raw and exposed.

  And he missed her.

  Chapter 8

  Heart Space

  Lydia

  “Do you argue with anyone else as much as you argue with me?”

  Lydia rolled her eyes. “I argue with anyone who’s wrong.”

  She heard his retorting grunt and huff and smiled at the painting hanging before them. It was a beautiful piece. Rare, gorgeous, collectible.

  And completely authentic. Which was the problem.

  “Tell me again how you got ahold of this?” she asked, crossing one arm over her middle and her opposite hand pinched her chin in thought.

  “Craig’s List.”

  “Bullshit,” she replied with a soft laugh.

  Merrick huffed again, more upset than the last time and stalked away from the painting to his desk where he dropped into his chair. Lydia admired the painting for a few more minutes. It had been years since she’d been in the presence of an original Rembrandt. The last time was in The Louvre. And she had been thrown out. But it was well worth it to educate the ignorant tour guide on his misinformation.

  She left the painting and crossed the office to take a seat in the chair across from Merrick who looked positively miserable.

  “So how likely am I to be arrested?” he asked glumly.

  She smiled at his ornery nature. “As long as you give them what they want, you won’t be arrested at all.”

  He sighed and his eyes drifted to the painting again. “I should have known it was too good to be true.”

  “I told you to call me next time you made a purchase of this magnitude,” she reminded, trying to soften the edges of her words with a delicate tone.

  His eyes cut to her and narrowed. “I’m a grown man, Lydia. I think I should be able to buy my own art by now.”

  “You’d think. What?! Don’t look at me like that. I told you finding a replica that big would be impossible. And now here you sit, the proud owner of a stolen Rembrandt. You should be honored. The authorities couldn’t find it for almost thirty years. You’ve done the impossible, my friend.”

  Merrick sat up straight and rearranged the papers on his desk. “I will admit it’s good to have you back. Not having you in the building has been utterly exhausting.”

  “How did all the meetings go?” she asked.

  “Well. I think. They had no complaints and went back to New York and Houston without leaving a liaison like they had threatened.” His lips curled on the edges as he looked up at her. “All thanks to you, no doubt. You and your research.”

  “You’re welcome,” she offered magnanimously. “You may borrow my genius anytime.”

  He chuckled at her and found the paper he had been looking for, bringing it to his focus. He frowned at the print and took a deep breath before asking his next question.

  “Did you really fix the building security at the greenhouse? IT was up there yesterday and said the list of complaints had all been checked off. In fact, some of the programing had been rewritten to allow for easier user interface.”

  Lydia shrugged. “I had time.”

  It was true. Remington had gone outside that morning to return messages and Lydia used the confused anger she felt for him to pull the program apart and make it better. It was exactly what she’d needed. Even if it had given her a headache. It had also helped her work though those confusing feelings and put them away as well.

  Merrick pursed his lips and a shadow passed through his eyes. Regret and admiration all in one.

  “You’re a remarkable woman, Lydia,” he said gruffly.

  She grinned to offset the seriousness of his mood. “But that’s our secret, remember?”

  He held her eyes for a beat, sadness mingling with acceptance in the lines around his mouth and eyes. “I should inform you then that I will not hold up well under torture. That secret may come to light eventually.”

  Lydia glanced down at her hands tangled in her lap. “Speaking of, do you have anything else for me in the field?”

  Being back in the office lost its lustre after the first 24-hours. Everyone had waited for the execs to leave town before submitting certain reports and requests. Lydia had spent the past few days filing, cataloging, and double-checking paperwork.

  He sucked in a quick breath before calling his computer back to life. “I might. Anything you’re in the mood for?”

  “I could use a challenge.”

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and his jaw tensed. A few clicks later and, “I’ve been meaning to send someone to look into the reports of possible Mount Diablo Buckwheat being spotted near the summit of Mt. Dulzura. It’s a day’s hike.”

  “That’s not possible.” Lydia shook her head. “Those flowers don’t come this far south.”

  Merrick tipped his head to the side as he opened a drawer in his desk. He pulled out a photo and handed it to her.

  The pink cotton candy flowers were unmistakable.

  “You’re kidding.”

  “If it’s true, you’ll need collect some.”

  Lydia stood, her blood humming with anticipation. “Perfect.”

  Merrick sat back in his chair, eyebrows raised. “I’d feel better if you took someone with you. Maybe Brenda.”

  Lydia grinned. “I w
ill take your feelings into consideration.”

  Two hours later, Lydia arrived at the trail head. Backpack and sample kit secure. No companion.

  ***

  Remington

  Remington eyed the black Subaru parked at the entrance to the trailhead.

  What were the chances?

  The now familiar conflict he felt when she was nearby rolled into his chest with the constancy of the tide.

  He turned to the group gathering around their vehicles in the small parking area.

  Keith gave Remington a chin lift as he approached.

  “This was exactly the kind of thing they needed. Thanks, man,” Keith held his hand up to shake Remington’s.

  They’d just completed a small team building hike. Most of his leaders were there, along with some new recruits and mentees. It was a good group of people, filled with potential and drive and excitement.

  Keith had brought two guys from his recovery group for the first time.

  It was a small, but important step.

  “I’ll see you on Wednesday?” Keith asked, wheeling his chair onto the lift of the van.

  “Absolutely,” Remington agreed. He dropped his voice and let his eyes glance through the other young veterans getting into the van. “The invitation always stands.”

  Keith nodded in understanding before the van doors closed around them.

  Someday, Remington promised himself for the 300th time, he’d have the resources to do more with Keith’s group. It was on the list.

  A restlessness burned inside Remington. He’d wanted to do more for a while now. Too long. It was starting to feel like he was running in place most days. Meetings, phone calls, seminars. All of those things were supposed to be leading him to completing the tasks on his list.

  But were they?

  Was he really getting any further ahead? Or any closer to taking care of the people who needed caring for?

  On the outside, it looked a lot like he was just building an empire. A golden temple of accolades that couldn’t be traded in for anything of value.

  He wanted a home.

  Not the cute nuclear kind with a mom, dad and two-point-five kids. A home where people found themselves whole. Where groups came together to make a difference—whatever their field of expertise.

  Something so much bigger than himself.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the Subaru again, and then to the trail head that diverged after twenty feet.

  They hadn’t crossed paths on their way back down. Which meant she’d taken the harder path.

  It made him want to chase her.

  “You want to get brunch?” Yvette asked, approaching him with Mimi at his side.

  “Not today,” Remington replied, heading across the gravel to his car. He popped the trunk of his Nissan and tossed his spent water bottle inside.

  “Are you sure?” Mimi crossed her arms over her bare stomach. “We’ve hardly seen you the last two weeks.”

  Remington reached behind his head and tugged his sweaty t-shirt off. He tossed that in the trunk as well.

  “Yeah, I have a meeting today with someone.”

  He did.

  With Lydia.

  She just didn’t know it yet.

  Mimi frowned, unhappy with his reply but not enough to argue with him about it.

  He understood to a certain degree. They were all in the same habit of being in each other’s lives and personal business. But right now, Remington wanted something he didn’t have to share.

  Or hear an opinion about.

  Maybe that wasn’t fair to his friends. Often, he was the one giving them his opinion on how they should be conducting their lives. So, what did it say about him that he wasn’t willing to subject himself to the same kind of requirements?

  It didn’t say anything, he concluded, slipping a fresh shirt over his head.

  He was still the one who knew himself best.

  Nothing was changing that anytime soon.

  Car doors closed around him and he made a show of checking his phone in his car while he waited for everyone to clear out. As soon as the parking lot was empty, he got out, locked the doors, and headed back up the trail.

  A week had passed since their trip to Phoenix with their detour into the mountains. He had nearly convinced himself she’d been a figment of his imagination. An apparition designed by his own tricky mind to distract him from his long-term goals: establish his business, make the money, be financially successful, save the world.

  Normally if he met a person with Lydia’s mind and ambition, he would recruit her. Make her part of the business. Iron sharpens iron and all that. But she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in his business. And he didn’t need to be distracted by someone who wasn’t going to be able to participate in the long-term goal chasing of his.

  Over the week he’d come to the conclusion that he needed more to focus on his goals then he needed to make a new and complicated friend.

  If only he could get his rebellious tendencies to go along with his practical decisions.

  ***

  Lydia

  Lydia heard him long before she saw him. He fell, and some choice curse words tumbled from his mouth that told her exactly who it was and also made her laugh. She debated whether or not to slow down and let him catch up. He could very well be hiking with other people and might not want to be interrupted.

  Because Lydia was nothing if not an interruption.

  Just ask Merrick.

  But she decided to wait, taking the opportunity to set her heavy backpack down and getting some food and water for herself. A fallen tree across the trail provided the perfect place to sit and eat as she waited for Remington to catch up.

  About thirty minutes later, he came into view and stopped. Their eyes locked and she couldn’t stop the smile that came so naturally when she saw his face.

  So, so beautiful.

  Like looking at a sunset over breaking waves.

  In the week without him, she’d forgotten.

  He stood tall, his grin blinding and making her go just a little weak in the knees.

  “So, we meet again,” she said sticking her chin out defiantly when he’d approached.

  The large trunk of the tree she was seated on brought her to chest level with him and he leaned in, placing a hand on either side of her hips, mouth spread into a grin.

  Lydia’s heart went double-time.

  “It is so good to see you,” he said roughly, his eyes darting down to her lips, to her hair that draped loosely on her shoulders, back to her eyes.

  Lydia had the strange sense that he wanted to kiss her. Her mind blanked as she sought for a way to avoid it. Kissing wasn’t something friends could ever recover from. Not fully. Chances were kissing Remington would rock her world to the edge of extinction. Like the dinosaurs.

  If kisses were comets.

  And if she were a planet.

  He may have read the panic in her eyes because his grin intensified and he reached up casually with one hand to tousle her hair.

  Still slightly dazed, she used both hands to rake her hair back down and tuck it behind her ears. “What are you doing here and am I going to need stitches?”

  “I saw your car and just knew you came this way.” He glanced up and down the trail. “You headed to the top?”

  She hopped off the log and hoisted her backpack over her shoulders. “Yep. Following a tip about Mount Diablo Buckwheat.” She began the hike again and Remington fell in behind her. “If I find it, that would be pretty awesome.”

  “Do you think you will?”

  She hadn’t really thought about it. “I don’t know.”

  It was bizarre the easy conversation they fell into. Like they hadn’t just spent a week apart; like they had known each other for ages.

  “What makes this buckwheat important?” he asked.

  “It was thought to be extinct a while ago. In the 40’s. And then some grad students found twenty plants in 2005. It threw the botany
world into a tizzy. They tried to plant more and see if they could get it to spread and grow. It didn’t work and the small number of plants dropped off until they were gone again.” She stopped as the hill inclined sharply and put her hands on her hips to catch her breath. “And then they found almost 2 million plants a year ago.”

  Remington whistled under his breath. “How do they miss 2 million plants?”

  Lydia flipped open her water bottle and shrugged before taking a drink. She replaced the bottle on the carabiner of her backpack. “Plants are tricky. They like to keep us guessing.”

  She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and then pressed on.

  The ground continued its vertical slant and she pressed through her feet and the back of her legs to propel her upward.

  She missed the field work.

  “So, you’re not a secretary,” Remington puffed lightly behind her.

  “No,” she admitted with a labored laugh.

  “But you don’t have any of those important letters behind your name either.”

  “I do not,” she agreed.

  “How come?”

  “I gave up. That’s the short version.”

  They stopped at a rock face that climbed into the sky.

  A faint puff of pink peeked around the overhang near the top. It didn’t make any sense for buckwheat to grow up there. It was too hot in SoCal for the plant to thrive. It needed cool, dryer conditions…

  Lydia eyed the puffs critically. She should move on, keep going.

  But her curiosity had her scanning the rock wall for handholds.

  “See that little bump that pokes out?” she asked, shielding her eyes from the sun and squinting.

  “That’s what she said.”

  She leveled her eyes at him and he busted up laughing.

  “Anyway,” she muttered, moving on and scanning the rough rock wall in front of her. “I think…” she grasped a handhold and leveraged herself up. “That’s an opening. Maybe a small cave. I should be able to reach that pink stuff from there.” She grasped another handhold and moved up, her feet finding easy purchase on the rocky wall.