He took a sip of his tea. “On a personal note, I am twenty-eight years old and not married, a fact my mother reminds me of every day.” Everyone chuckled. “I keep hoping to meet the woman of my heart, but she has so far eluded me. Maybe someday she will hike the Inca Trail, and we will find each other, but since you all are couples or-” he smiled at Dan “-single gentlemen, this is not the hike.” His gaze circled the group. “Who’s next?”
“I’ll jump in,” said Bill. “Eileen and I hail from Atlanta where we’re both high-school teachers. We have twin sons who just graduated from college, one of whom earned a degree in accounting and the other who plans to follow in our footsteps and teach.” He glanced at his wife, and took her hand. “We love the outdoors and discovering new places and have looked forward to this trip for a long time.”
“We’d actually planned to visit Machu Picchu two summers ago,” Eileen added, “but had to postpone our plans when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was a scary time and definitely gave both of us an appreciation for what’s really important.” She laid her hand over Bill’s and smiled at the group. “I’m happy to report that I’m now cancer-free and very happy to be here-literally and figuratively.”
The entire group gave her a whooping round of applause, and with a laugh, she stood and bowed.
Since Shawn sat next to Eileen, he volunteered to go next. “I grew up in Pennsylvania, the oldest of six kids-all girls except me-in a house that had one bathroom.” A murmur of male-voiced sympathy rose from the group, and Shawn nodded. “Dudes, it was harsh. Me and my dad, we didn’t stand a chance. With all those kids, my folks couldn’t afford fancy vacations, so we went camping. It was cheap, and I loved it because I could escape my sisters in the woods.” He wrapped his arm around Ashley. “This is the first girl I ever went camping with who I wasn’t related to and who I didn’t want to get away from. I graduated from college last month, and this trip is my graduation present to myself, and the first time I’ve ever gone anywhere that required a passport. Next week I’m starting a new job-my new career-and it’s kinda scary, this whole being a responsible adult instead of a college student. But this week is for me.” He hugged Ashley closer. “Me and my best girl.”
“Okay, everyone say ‘awww,’” Paolo said in a teasing voice, and everyone chimed in.
“I graduated with Shawn,” Ashley said, “but unlike him, I wasn’t much of a camper until he came along. I grew up in Idaho, near Sun Valley, so I’m a skier. Not being a college student any longer is…weird. On the one hand, I feel very grown-up and look forward to starting my career, but on the other hand, I’m scared to death because now I’m in the real world.” She made air quotes around the last two words. “It’s sort of like walking on a high wire without a safety net beneath you. I came on this trip with Shawn because I love going places with him. We’ve been together three years, and he’s taught me how great sleeping under the stars, communing with nature can be. I’d rather be in a tent with him than in a fancy hotel with someone else.”
Everyone clapped and again said, “awww,” to which Ashley smiled and buried her face in Shawn’s collar.
“I guess I’m next,” Brett said. He wasn’t sure if it was sharing this campfire under the stars, or the day of hiking, or the meal, or all three, but he felt an undeniable bond of camaraderie with this group of strangers. And a sudden, strong need to unburden himself.
“I’m from New York, and I came here to escape the chaos my life’s been over the past four months,” he said slowly, but then the words came faster. “I’m a scientist, a chemist. After I published my findings on a new skincare formula I developed, everything just went…crazy.”
He rested his forearms on his knees, clasped his hands together and stared into the fire, reliving the insanity that had been thrust upon him. “Everyone wanted a piece of the formula. At first, I can’t deny that the attention was flattering-it was the sort of recognition most scientists dream of yet never receive.
“But it quickly spun out of control. I was being pulled in too many directions by too many people. I didn’t know who I could trust or what was best for my future and career. The pursuit by various cosmetic firms was relentless, and I couldn’t stand it any more. I’d read an article about getting your life back in balance, and one of the things it recommended was going somewhere you’ve never been, to do something you’ve never done. I’d always been interested in Machu Picchu, so I packed my bag and here I am. And I have to say, this is the most peaceful I’ve felt in months.” His gaze flicked to Kayla. “And the happiest I’ve been in a very long time.”
He drew a deep breath, and a profound sense of relief filled him, as if he’d carried a stack of anvils on his shoulders and they’d now evaporated. Into the clear, brisk, mountain air. He looked at Kayla and smiled. “Your turn.”
She moistened her lips, and Brett noted that she seemed rather uncomfortable. “I’m also from New York, and I actually read that same article as Brett, about rebalancing your life by doing something totally new, and believe me, a four-day hike in the Andes is about as far outside my comfort zone as you can get. So, here I am, an escapee from the daily stress of my public-relations job and high-maintenance family. And in spite of being so far outside my usual box, I’m feeling very…peaceful.”
“I would suggest it is because you are so far outside your usual box that you’re feeling this peace,” Paolo said. “It is a common phenomenon on the journey to Machu Picchu. These trails, where the Inca once walked and lived, possess the power to infuse each of you with serenity, to help you find what you seek if you allow it.” He turned to Dan. “You have the honor of going last, señor.”
Dan hesitated several seconds, then combed his fingers through his short, military-cut gray hair. “Well, I wasn’t going to tell anyone, but since you all have been so honest, I don’t feel right not extending that same honesty back.”
Kayla shifted on the log beside him, and, noting her frown, Brett scooted closer, rapping his arm around her shoulder.
“I lost my wife three years ago,” Dan said, staring into the fire’s dancing red and gold flames. “Car crash. Hit by a drunk driver. He’s in jail now, but that doesn’t bring Marcie back. We were married thirty-five years.”
Brett felt Kayla stiffen beneath his arm, then, along with everyone else, murmur her sympathy for Dan’s loss. He could almost feel the waves of sadness rolling off the man and compassion filled him. His parents had recently celebrated their thirty-eighth anniversary. They were like two halves of a whole, and he couldn’t imagine either one of them losing the other.
“We have two daughters,” Dan continued, in a strained voice. “Both are married, and lucky for me they don’t live too far away. I get to see them and my grandchildren often, which has made things a little easier.”
He fell silent for several seconds, and it was obvious he was gathering his composure. After clearing his throat, he said, “Six months ago, my eyes started bothering me. Can’t deny I hadn’t kept up with regular doctor appointments after Marcie was gone. Oh, I did my normal exercises-racquetball and golf-but I didn’t bother with annual check-ups until my eyes began to trouble me. Doc told me I have macular degeneration. In simplest terms, it’s an incurable eye disease that leads to blindness. He gives me a year, two at most, before my eyesight will essentially be gone.”
Dan studied his clasped hands, and the only sound was the snap and pop of the flames. “Me and Marcie, we loved to travel. That woman was never so happy as when she was packin’ a suitcase. Went somewhere new every summer. When the girls were growing up, we took them with us, and after they left home, we went on our own. Had a long list of all the places we wanted to see together. She kept it hung right on the refrigerator, and every year we’d cross off a new place.”
He lifted his head and once again stared into the flames. “I’m trying to see as many of those places as I can in this next year. While I still can see them. So I can tell Marcie what they looked like. Hiking to Mac
hu Picchu was on our list. So…here I am.”
No one spoke for several long seconds, then Kayla rose. Brett looked up at her and stilled when he saw that her eyes were bright with tears, her cheeks glistening with silvery wet tracks. She sat down next to Dan, taking the older man’s hand in hers.
“I’m so sorry, Dan,” she said, in a low voice. “My father…he died in nearly the same way. Car crash. Hit by a teenager high on drugs. I know how much it hurts. How hard it is to talk about.”
Tears misted Dan’s eyes and his head jerked in a tight nod. “Rips my heart out every time.”
“I know.” Fresh tears rolled down her cheek, and Brett’s heart squeezed tight. For her. And for Dan. He couldn’t imagine the pain of losing a loved one under such tragic circumstances. “What you’re doing,” she said softly, her gaze steady on Dan’s, “traveling to the places you and Marcie wanted to go…I hope you’ll get to see all of them. For both your sakes.”
“Me, too, Dan,” said Eileen, and Brett and the others chimed in with similar sentiments.
Dan pressed his lips together then cleared his throat. “Thank you. All of you. I appreciate the kind words.” He gave a shaky smile. “But I feel like I’ve cast a pall over the party.”
“No,” Paolo said quickly. “It is in the talking about our lives, in the sharing of our hopes and dreams and pains that we find answers and comfort and peace. And those can often be found not only in those closest to us, but in the presence of strangers, as well.”
Paolo rose and swept his hand toward the area behind them. “Your tents are all prepared, and you will find a flashlight in each one. You can retire, or remain around the fire if you wish. There is water in the kitchen tent for teeth-brushing and face-washing. Please do not wander from the campsite, nor go any further away than the bathroom tent. Normally we break up into two groups at this time-men and women. Ana will escort the ladies to the bathroom while the men brush their teeth here, then we’ll switch. After that, if you go anywhere, bring your flashlight and do not go alone. If you need anything or experience any problems, do not hesitate to awaken me or Alberto, Ana or Miguel. We will wake you early to begin our second day, which, I will warn you, is the most difficult day of the hike. I wish you all a good night and a good sleep.”
Everyone rose and made their way toward the tents. Brett’s gaze remained fixed on Kayla and his insides tightened with sympathy at her bleak expression. Clearly talking about the circumstances of her father’s death had upset her. She reminded him of a deflated balloon. He approached her slowly, uncertain of what to say or do and cursed his inexperience in dealing with such a situation. Certainly the least he could do was offer his sympathy.
Before he could speak, however, she raised her damp gaze to his and said in a voice that sounded so sad and inexorably weary, it broke his heart, “After the bathroom break…I’m sorry, but I think I’d like to just go to sleep.” Without another word, she headed toward her tent, which he noted was next to the one outside which his gear was stacked.
She looked so…lost, so tired and upset. Sympathy and an entire flood of other feelings he couldn’t name washed through him as he watched her dejected form disappear down the path toward the bathroom tent, following Ana and the other women. He wanted to comfort her, to erase that bleak sadness from her beautiful eyes, but he didn’t know how, especially without it seeming as if his ulterior motive was to get her into bed.
And while Brett couldn’t name the unsettling feelings coursing through him, the very depth at which they grabbed him and wouldn’t let go scared the living daylights out of him.
15
WITH THE washing-up and teeth-brushing finished, Kayla should have been ready to crawl into her tent and pass out cold from weariness. Yet as achingly tired as her body was, her mind was revving at full speed and she knew sleep wouldn’t come. The memories had escaped from the corner of her soul where she normally kept them carefully locked away, and she knew from experience that there’d be no putting them back to rest until she’d dealt with them.
Adding to her distress was her promise to Brett of a massage and spending the night together, but she simply felt too drained to deliver, both emotionally and physically. Which would leave him in the lurch and quite possibly piss him off. But it was just as well. It wasn’t as if their affair could go anywhere. What difference did it make if it ended now or three days from now?
It shouldn’t make a difference, damn it, but the fact that it did indicated that she’d foolishly allowed herself to become emotionally involved. Which, if it were with anyone other than Brett, wouldn’t be a problem. But with Brett-a man she’d lied to since the moment she’d met him? Big problem.
Kneeling in front of her tent, she glanced around, noting that everyone was settling in for the night. Her gaze settled on Ashley, who was squeezing her sleeping bag into Shawn’s small tent. She looked up, saw Kayla and waved goodnight. Kayla returned the gesture, then turned toward Brett’s tent. The flaps were closed. Probably he’d already turned in.
Was he upset with her? Most likely, and she didn’t blame him. She glanced around and barely made out Ana in the shadows of the kitchen tent. After putting away her toiletries, she unrolled her sleeping bag, but the thought of lying down didn’t appeal at all. She glanced over her shoulder at the still-crackling fire and rose to her feet.
Stepping over the log that served as a bench, she sank to the ground and rested her back against the thick, rounded wood. She drew up her legs, wrapped her arms around her knees, and stared into the dancing flames, trying to empty her mind, but failing completely.
Several minutes passed, the murmurs of voices quieting down until the only sound that remained was that of the fire. Warmth from the flames eased over her body, but did nothing to warm the sad, lonely chill in her heart.
Footsteps sounded behind her. She turned and stilled at the sight of Brett, holding a plastic mug from which a tempting curl of steam rose. He stared down at her for several seconds, then moved forward, stepping over the log to stand in front of her. Hunkering down on his haunches, he extended the cup.
“It’s tea,” he said, his voice filled with quiet concern that matched the look in his eyes. “I thought maybe you’d like something hot and soothing to drink.”
“Thank you.” She barely managed to push the words past the lump that lodged in her throat at the kind gesture. Wrapping her cold hands around the warm mug, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “Brett, I’m sorry-”
He touched his fingers to her lips, stopping her words. “Please don’t apologize. There’s no need. I’m the one who’s sorry. For not knowing what to say or do to comfort you.” His fingers slid away and he regarded her through very serious eyes. “If you’d like some company, someone to talk to, or even just to sit silently with you so you’re not out here alone, I’d be happy to join you. But if you want to be alone, I understand.”
To her mortification, hot tears welled in her eyes. She looked away, but he’d clearly seen the sheen because he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a hanky.
“Here you go,” he said, handing her the folded white square.
As she had no tissues, Kayla set down her mug, accepted the offering and wiped her face. “I didn’t know men still carried hankies.”
“Habit I picked up from my grandfather. Came in handy while growing up because I always seemed to have a head cold.” One corner of his mouth quirked upward. “You can imagine what a babe magnet I was.”
A huff of unexpected laughter escaped her. “You clearly improved with age.”
“Thanks. But believe me, I had nowhere to go but up.”
She made another swipe under her eyes which, much to her embarrassment, continued to leak silent tears. “You know, in spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I’m not a weepy female.”
“I believe you.”
Based on the sincerity in his gaze, he did. Which only made her feel worse because while her “I’m not a weepy female�
�� statement was true-usually-she’d deceived him from the moment they’d met. She certainly didn’t deserve to have him believe her. This brought on a fresh onslaught of tears. Damn it, she hoped she’d run out soon.
He reached out and took the hanky from her less-than-steady fingers, then gently dabbed at her eyes. “Jesus, Kayla, you’re breaking my heart. Tell me what I can do to help. To make you feel better. I don’t want to leave you like this. Can I sit with you?”
“Don’t most men normally run away from crying women?”
“I guess I’m not most men.”
No, it appeared he wasn’t, which should have thrilled her, but only served to heap another layer of guilt on her already mile-high stack.
She should have told him to go to bed. Released him from any misguided sentiments of chivalry he harbored about leaving her alone. But the thought of being alone with her thoughts filled her with a crushing ache that made it feel as if a mountain sat on her chest.
“I wouldn’t mind the company,” she said, “but I know you must be tired, so if you’d rather go to sleep…”
Her words petered off when, without any hesitation, he moved next to her, propping his back against the log. He stretched out his long legs, crossed his ankles, and tucked his hands in his jacket pockets. She realized that the fact he’d been so careful not to brush against her, to touch her in any manner, was his silent way of letting her know he wasn’t looking for sex. She quickly picked up the mug of tea to hide more tears at his thoughtfulness.
They sat together, the quiet broken only by the fire’s lively snaps and the rustling of leaves in the cool wind. It was a companionable silence, one that comforted her rather than making her feel as if she had to say something, anything, to fill an awkward lull in the conversation. A silence that allowed her to regain control of her emotions and put to rest the profound sense of sadness that had swamped her.
Just Trust Me… Page 13