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Under a Storm-Swept Sky

Page 5

by Beth Anne Miller


  It was my job to care. I had to guide these people safely through the Skye Trail, and to do that, I needed to monitor their emotional state, to make sure they weren’t endangering themselves or anyone else. I’d seen her lose her balance, and I’d grabbed her before she’d fallen. Like any guide would have done.

  I thought back to that moment. She’d been hunched into herself, clearly cold and miserable, and then she’d suddenly stopped in her tracks, tipped her face up, closed her eyes, and parted her lips as if she were about to be kissed.

  A jolt of desire had gone through me. I’d frozen in place, staring at the long line of her throat, the raindrops on her eyelashes, the curve of her mouth as she’d smiled. She’d looked so damn beautiful.

  And then her feet had gone out from under her, and I’d caught her against my chest, our bodies so close I could smell her scent. She smelled like springtime and sunshine, and I’d had to force myself not to press my face into her neck and inhale her.

  I grinned to myself, imagining the look on her face if I’d actually done that. She probably would have whacked me in the head with one of her damned trekking poles. It would have been worth it.

  We started off again. There were four quick peaks to go over before we’d break for lunch.

  The group was moving at a good clip. I was walking with the two brothers from Maine, who were sharing stories of hiking in the mountains of New Hampshire. At one point, I glanced behind me to check on everyone. I didn’t see Amelia’s bright purple rain gear. Had she taken it off? It had stopped for now, but the sky was still threatening. She should probably put it back on.

  “You guys go on ahead,” I said to the lads, and then I turned on my heel and walked back the way we came. The ladies were all in a group, and Tommy was walking with Gordon. But there was no Amelia.

  Shit, where was she? My heart pounding, I kept walking, and when I reached the top of a small hillock, I saw her, a purple shape against the green, moving slowly up the hill. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and strode down to her.

  She looked up as I approached. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked—well, not very happy to see me. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Just pacing myself.”

  I watched her walk for a minute, checking for signs of injury. She didn’t seem to be limping, so maybe she was just tired. I fell into step with her, slowing my pace to match hers. When we reached the top of the hillock, she swore under her breath. I looked over to see her staring at the steep trail ahead of us.

  “You okay?”

  The glare she threw at me was cold enough to freeze the sea.

  Chapter Eight

  Amelia

  Four small summits, they’d said. They may have been relatively small summits, but they were in quick succession, and there was no real path to speak of. Gorgeous scenery all around, but no shelter from the relentless wind.

  My thigh and calf muscles screamed on the ascents, and my knees screamed on the descents, sometimes so bad that I had to bite my lip to not cry out.

  I’d fallen to the back of the group, which wasn’t the bad part. The bad part was that Rory was at the back of the group with me. Because it wasn’t embarrassing enough that I was slow and near tears on the hills, I also got to enjoy the added humiliation of this super-hot guy at my side.

  “How are you doing?” he asked. For the third time. I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “I’m fine,” I said, far less politely than I should have. “Look, you don’t need to stay so close. I’ll get there. Eventually.” He looked at me for a long moment, and then finally nodded and moved off to the front of the group.

  Without the pressure of his close scrutiny, I found my stride and caught up to Pat and Linda, who were also having a tough time. Tommy fell back to walk with the three of us. Somehow, I didn’t mind his company as much. Maybe it was because he didn’t keep asking how we were, just told funny stories that had us in hysterics and kept our attention away from the difficult path. And maybe it’s because you’re not attracted to him. No, that definitely wasn’t it.

  Rory stayed up front with the faster walkers, though he glanced back a few times when we were especially loud, probably annoyed by the sound of laughter and fun.

  After the fourth peak, we descended into another wide bealach—or pass, as opposed to beinn, which meant mountain or peak. I’d made it a point to ask Tommy for the Gaelic words so I could tell Carrie.

  We stopped for lunch, and I dropped to the ground, practically weeping with relief. The ground was wet, but I didn’t care—I still had on my rain gear. The sun was shining through the clouds, its warmth lovely on my face. My squished PB&J was the best thing I’d ever tasted, and after I shoveled it in, I leaned against my pack and closed my eyes.

  I lay on the sand, the sun warm on my skin, the scent of the sea filling my nostrils with every breath. It was one of those random summer-like days we’d sometimes get in early spring, and Carrie and I had headed for the beach, along with seemingly everyone else in Nassau County.

  I trailed my fingers back and forth through the sand, feeling the grains sifting over my skin.

  Carrie sat up, took a sip of her iced coffee, and lay back down. “Just think, Mee, in a few months we’ll be in Miami, working at a fancy new hotel. Warm sunshine will be our life every day.”

  “It’s going to be awesome, especially after this shitty winter. No more shoveling snow and driving on black ice.”

  “I just wish you were doing the Skye Trail with me. It seems wrong for me to do it without you.”

  I sighed. “Carrie, we’ve talked about this.”

  “I know. I just keep hoping you’ll change your mind.”

  “You’ll have much more fun without me whining about how hard it is. And this way, if there’s a hot guide, you can go for it without worrying that you’re ditching me. And then you can tell me all about it when we’re on our road trip.”

  “I’ll drink to that,” she said. We clinked iced coffees and drank, giggling at the silliness of us.

  “Amelia?”

  I slowly opened my eyes, blinking in confusion at the blonde woman standing over me, backlit by the sun. “Carrie?” I whispered.

  “No, it’s me.” She stepped forward, into the light, and I could see it was Molly. Of course it’s not Carrie, you twit. Carrie is three thousand miles away from here.

  “Our lunch break is over, unfortunately.” Molly knelt beside me as I shoved myself upright to sit. “Are you all right? You looked like you were out cold.”

  “I can’t believe I fell into such a deep sleep so quickly,” I said, pulling my bag close so I could drink from my CamelBak water pack. “I was dreaming of my friend Carrie.”

  “The one who got hurt and couldn’t be here?”

  “Yeah. I dreamed of one of the last times we hung out before she got hurt. We had this crazy hot day at the end of March, and we went to the beach.”

  “It sounds lovely.”

  “It was.”

  “Okay, everyone, let’s get moving,” said Rory. Molly hopped up and went to fetch her pack.

  I tried to stand, but my muscles protested, and I literally groaned like an old lady as I pretended to rummage for something in my bag while I gathered my strength.

  A hand appeared before me, and I looked up into Tommy’s grinning face.

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Only a little.”

  Sighing, I grabbed his hand. “C’mon, up you go,” he said, tugging me to my feet. “All right?”

  “Yep. Thanks.”

  “No worries. Everyone’s always a little stiff from sitting. The key is to groan silently. If no one hears it, it didn’t happen.”

  I glanced over to see Rory helping Linda up. She looked at me and placed her hand over her heart as if in a swoon, and I busted out laughing.

  “I’m not even gonna ask,” said Tommy. He waited for me to heft my backpack onto my shoulders and handed me my poles.

&n
bsp; In spite of my protesting muscles, the ascent to the next peak, about a hundred meters, wasn’t too bad. When I reached the top, I followed the others out to the edge, which looked like the prow of some giant, grassy ship. It was unnerving to stand there, with the wind lashing my braid against my back, surrounded on three sides by air.

  Holding my phone tightly against the wind, I recorded the stunning view, all the way to the sea. Then I stuffed the phone into my pocket. I’d spent every moment of every break today taking pictures of the views. Now I wanted to look for myself. The thought that Rory would approve entered my brain, but I shut it down. That wasn’t why I was doing this.

  I was exhausted beyond description and I hurt everywhere. But standing out on this strange promontory in the middle of this spectacular, alien scenery, I felt exhilarated. I’d done this. I, Amelia Benson, unrepentant beach girl, who didn’t hike, had summitted seven peaks of the exposed and barren Trotternish Ridge.

  Carrie would be so freaking jealous when I told her about it.

  And just like that, my exhilaration disappeared, that warm feeling replaced by a chill so powerful, I shuddered.

  How could I even think that? She wasn’t here because of me.

  My eyes filled with tears, turning the view into a green, brown, and blue smear.

  “Are you all right?”

  Great, this would be the second time today that Rory had seen me in tears. Wiping my eyes and plastering on a smile, I turned to face him. “I’m fine. I’ve just never seen a view like this before, and I guess I got a little emotional.”

  It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was true enough. He nodded once and turned back to gaze out at the vista without saying anything.

  I cleared my throat. “Which peak is this?”

  “It’s the Peak of the Red Fox,” he replied. Then he said it in Gaelic, which sounded like “Skoor ah vatee ruay.”

  He spelled it for me as I typed it into my phone: Sgùrr a’Mhadaidh Ruaidh. “Are you fluent in Gaelic?”

  “No. But I know the names of the sights we come across on the trail and how to pronounce them.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Sutherland. You also do a damn fine job of cursing out slow drivers and asking where the loo is. Flawless accent,” said Tommy.

  Rory’s fist shot out in a quick jab to Tommy’s arm.

  “Owwww!” Tommy cried, dramatically clutching his arm and staggering.

  Then his eyes widened in horror as his heel slid off the edge.

  Before I could even gasp, Rory’s hand shot out once more, grabbing Tommy’s arm and hauling him to safety.

  Then he ripped him apart.

  Chapter Nine

  Rory

  We stood on the top of the world, the view spectacular from every angle. This was what I lived for. I was thrilled to share it with my closest friend. A mock insult, which naturally had to be retaliated against with a mock punch. And then his eyes grew wide with terror, his arms pinwheeling uselessly—

  “— Rory. Did you hear me? I’m all right, man. Rory!”

  Fingers dug hard into my upper arms. I blinked, and Tommy’s face came into focus. He hadn’t… He wasn’t…

  “You can let go now, Rory. I’m okay,” he said quietly. I was clutching his shoulders, and we were locked in some kind of weird embrace at the top of Sgùrr a’Mhadaidh Ruaidh. What the—?

  And then I remembered.

  “Are you fucking daft? What were you thinking, horsing around like that up here? You could have gone over the goddamn edge!”

  My fingers ached, and I realized that they had tightened on his shoulders and I was shaking him. He didn’t try to break my grip, didn’t say a word. He just stood there calmly as anger, fear, and guilt poured out of me in a crazy tirade.

  Then his eyes flicked to my right, and he shook his head once. Who was he looking at?

  The Skye Trail. We were guiding a group on the Skye Trail. And the entire group had just witnessed my meltdown, had just watched me tear into another guide like he was a foolish child. Because of my carelessness.

  My face burning with mortification and shame, my stomach roiling, I let go of Tommy and turned away, sinking to the ground a few feet from the edge.

  Voices faded away behind me. A shadow fell over the grass and Tommy dropped down to sit beside me.

  “Tommy, I—”

  He bumped me with his shoulder, cutting me off. “Don’t even say it, man.”

  Taking a deep breath, I turned to face him. His eyes met mine, and there wasn’t even the slightest hint of anger or judgment in them. “I just…I saw—”

  “I know. I know what you saw. Just sit here for a minute.” He held out a water bottle. “Have some water.”

  Wishing it was whisky instead, I took a sip, then capped the bottle and held it to my forehead. “The group?”

  “They’re taking a ten-minute break at the top of the path.”

  “Fuck, Tommy. How can I face them?”

  “Honestly, none of them said a word. And why would they? They saw me do something stupid and saw you rightfully yell at me for it. Let me finish,” he said when I started to interrupt. “They may wonder why you reacted as strongly as you did, but they’re not judging you for it.”

  I shook my head. “I didn’t rightfully yell at you, Tommy. I’m so sorry.”

  “If you say that one more time, I’m going to short-sheet your bed the next time you have one.”

  “How can you joke about this?”

  He clapped his hand on my shoulder. “Rory, you seem to be forgetting that I’m your best mate. We’ve been through a lot together. And I will never—could never—be angry with you for reacting the way you did.” He grinned. “But I bet you’ll be super-nice to me for the rest of the day, right? And maybe even buy me a beer when we’re in Portree?”

  “I—” He narrowed his eyes at me, and I knew I had to agree with him, at least to his face. “Fine. Your next beer is on me.”

  “And?”

  I sighed. “And I’ll be really nice to you for the rest of the day.”

  “Good. Now let’s get off this godforsaken peak.”

  He got up and held out his hand. I clasped his forearm, and he pulled me to my feet and then into a hard hug. I held on for a moment, grateful beyond words for his understanding, and then thumped him once on the back and let go. “Time to face the music.”

  “Go easy on yourself, Ror. They’re fine.”

  Swallowing hard, I rejoined the group. They all looked at me with concern. No judgment, just concern. Exactly as Tommy had said.

  “I’m…sorry. I…Tommy got a bit too close to the edge, and I overreacted. I shouldn’t have yelled like that. I’ll understand if you’d rather I step aside as your guide after today.”

  Tommy whipped around to stare at me, his eyes wide with surprise. But I had to make the offer. As he’d put it yesterday, the people in the group were here to have fun, not to worry that their guide was going to lose his shit. They’d be within their rights to complain to Scarlet.

  “I don’t know about the rest of you,” said Gordon, “but I’d rather have a guide who’s overly concerned for everyone’s safety than one who isn’t. We all chose to do this trek with a guide, which means we all wanted to be led by someone who knows what he’s doing and will make sure we get to the end in one piece. Even if that means yelling at us for putting ourselves at risk.”

  “I appreciate you saying so, Gordon, but—”

  He held up his hand. “Son, I’ve owned a travel company back in the States for twenty years. One thing we do for our clients is book tours. I’ve spent many hours looking at what makes a good tour company, and one key thing is having guides that prioritize safety. You—both of you—” he said, gesturing to include Tommy, “impress the hell out of me, and I’d hire you in a second. So no, I don’t want another guide.”

  The others all nodded or murmured their agreement. Amelia even smiled at me. And my heart felt a little bit lighter.

  “Thanks
, guys. I really appreciate it.”

  Tommy cleared his throat noisily. “Well, if we’re done talking about our feelings, perhaps we can continue the trek?” I opened my mouth to retort, but he shook his finger at me. “Uh-uh, Sutherland. You promised to be nice to me for the rest of the day, remember?”

  Everyone laughed. I managed a small smile, hoping it was enough to fool everyone into thinking I was okay. Even though I was anything but.

  Chapter Ten

  Amelia

  As we crossed yet another peak and began a steep descent down its rocky slope, I couldn’t stop thinking about what had just happened.

  I’d frozen as Tommy’s foot started to go over the edge. There wouldn’t have been a hope in hell of me doing anything to help him. But Rory’s reflexes had been lightning-fast, almost as though he’d trained over and over for exactly that situation.

  He’d been truly scary when he’d lit into Tommy. His eyes had turned silver, like the liquid mercury that had spilled on the bathroom floor years ago when I’d broken one of those old glass thermometers. And the look in them—at first I’d thought it was anger, but then I listened to his words, and I knew. Yes, there had been anger there, but the anger had come from fear.

  There was more to Rory than the serious, surly, overly critical side I’d seen. His response had been visceral. And he’d gone to some other time and place. That had been evident when Gordon had taken a step toward him and Tommy had waved him off with a shake of his head, startling Rory into returning to this time and place.

  Thank God he’d had Tommy, who knew what was really going on, who knew how to talk him down. If it had just been Rory guiding us, and one of the group had been in Tommy’s place, I don’t know what would have happened. I thought of how confident he’d been yesterday during the briefing, how he’d convinced me in two seconds that while he may not always be nice to me, he wasn’t going to let anything happen to me. And now I wasn’t so sure.

 

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