[2015] Just the Essentials

by Shari L. Tapscott

I light the tiny camp stove and set the water to boil. By the light of the fire, I look at our choices.

  “We have Chicken Teriyaki, Stroganoff, Beef Stew…” I dig out a few more out. “Oh, and Chili Mac n’ Cheese. That one’s fancy—it says it’s now made with real beef.”

  I’m babbling because I’m nervous. Hudson is in so much pain; I’m practically talking to myself.

  “I don’t care,” he finally answers.

  The water boils, and I end up picking Classic Lasagna, knowing Italian food is one of Hudson’s favorites. After I add the water, I seal up the pouch and keep an eye on the watch.

  It’s time for Hudson to take the acetaminophen, and I open the packet while we wait for dinner. There’s not much water left. I’ll have to get more after we eat.

  Once ten minutes have passed, I help Hudson sit up. We pass the lasagna pouch back and forth, taking turns with my little spork. It doesn’t taste as bad as I expected. In fact, after missing lunch, it’s pretty good. Hudson doesn’t eat much, and I end up finishing the rest of it.

  Another hour goes by, and then another. After putting it off as long as I can, I finally walk down to collect more water. It’s easier to locate the stream in the dark than I expect; I just follow the sound of the running water.

  I kneel. From a dozen or so yards away, I startle something in the brush. Staggering back, I suck in a breath. The creature bounds across the creek, its shadowy silhouette disappearing into the night.

  My heart beats in my ears as blood frantically courses through my veins. It was just a deer. But it’s so dark, and we’re in the middle of nowhere…

  I gulp back my fear and fill the water pouch. It feels as if there are eyes on me. Why did Hudson have to bring up bears?

  From the creek, I can just make out the flicker of our campfire through the trees. On my way back, I stumble on a patch of uneven ground. Trying to right myself, I walk right into a tree. A branch swats my face, and I cry out like something has me.

  “Kinsley?” Hudson yells from the fire.

  Wincing, I rub my cheek. “I’m fine.”

  The moon rises over the horizon, casting dim light over the forest. Coyotes begin their nightly howls, and from somewhere not too far away, a small rodent cries out.

  I hurry back.

  “I’m sorry,” Hudson says when I return.

  Surprised he’s talking, I look over at him. “For what?”

  He sighs and rests his head against the pack. “For this—for stumbling off the edge.” He’s quiet for a moment. “For following you here.”

  He’s talking. The two painkillers must be helping a little.

  I cross my legs and scoot closer to the fire. “Why did you come? Was it to rub Amber in my face?”

  “Partially,” he admits. “And I didn’t think you would come up here on your own.”

  “Why did you break up with Amber?”

  He lets out a short, pained laugh. “We’re not a good fit.”

  I know he’s hurt, and maybe this is a bad time to bring it up, but earlier he wanted to talk. So we’ll talk.

  “We’re not a good fit, either.”

  He meets my eyes. “We used to be.”

  “We were,” I agree.

  “We could be again.”

  I shake my head. “No. Our time is done.”

  He’s silent for a while, and I figure he’s finished. Then he says, “You really like him?”

  Jack.

  What if we die out here, and I never see him again?

  I’m being ridiculous. I will hike back to the lodge for help as soon as the sun comes up. That’s what I should have done to begin with.

  “Yeah, I really like him.”

  “Hmmm.”

  That’s all he says. Hmmm. I almost argue with him, but what’s the point? And right now is definitely not the time for that.

  “Amber’s nice,” I finally answer.

  He opens his eyes and looks at me, giving me half an unamused smile. “Yeah, I know.”

  Hudson finally dozes, and I add more wood to the fire. He wakes up every so often, and I give him more painkillers when he can have them. I keep the fire going all night, and by the time the birds are waking, I’m exhausted.

  In the early light of dawn, I add more wood. As the sun comes up, I lie on my side and close my eyes for just a moment. I start to drift. My dreams are fragmented, but in them, I hear Jack calling my name.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I wake with a start. Next to me, Hudson sleeps.

  Positive I heard Jack, I strain to him calling for me. There’s nothing but the morning sounds of the forest. I rub my face. I must have been dreaming.

  I’m exhausted. Judging from the position of the sun, I’ve only slept for maybe thirty minutes or so.

  But we made it through the night. And nothing ate us.

  Hungry, I browse through the packs. What will be better for breakfast: Beef Stew or Chicken Teriyaki? I settle on Apple Crumble. Dessert for breakfast sounds like a pretty good idea right now.

  Hudson groans and opens his eyes.

  I add boiling water to the bag. “It’s time for more painkillers.”

  He doesn’t say anything.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Hurts.”

  A shot of panic shoots through me, but I shake it off. Of course it hurts. His bone is sticking out of the side of his leg.

  “I’m going to make breakfast, and then I’m going to walk to the lodge. I’ll have someone back by tonight.”

  “Did you sleep at all?”

  My eyes stinging, I yawn at the reminder. “Not really, but I’ll be okay.”

  I make him eat a few bites of the apple crumble—which tastes a lot like oatmeal—and give him another dose of ibuprofen. It’s the last of my supply. The first-aid pack only came with a few individually wrapped pills.

  While worrying my bottom lip, I look for more, hoping to find some hiding behind the bandages and gauze.

  There are none.

  “I need to go,” I say.

  He waves me away with a listless hand. “Be careful.”

  Before I leave, I fill up his water bottle and set the last two packs of acetaminophen on his stomach, where he’ll be able to reach them.

  “You need to take the water with you,” he insists.

  “I’ll be okay.”

  The filter is tucked in my pocket, but I’m not sure what I’ll put the water in. I’ll figure that out later.

  I hike back to the path out of the ravine. For a moment, I sit on a rock. My eyes ache. I shake it off, trying to wake myself up, and start up the slope.

  The climb consists of mostly crawling from rock to rock, and it’s not difficult. In a few of the steeper spots, the slope is sandy. It’s harder to climb up those.

  About halfway up, I reach for a boulder to give myself a boost but accidentally grasp hold of a stinging nettle growing in a shelf of dirt on the top. Pain shoots through my hand, and I yank my fingers back.

  The sudden movement causes the rock I’m standing on to shift. I try to regain my balance, but I end up sliding down. I frantically reach for a handhold and just manage to grab a tree branch. My hand slides over it, the limbs cutting into my skin, but I catch myself before tumbling all the way to the bottom.

  I climb up to a larger rock and sit for a moment, my legs hanging over the edge. The hand I grabbed the nettle with is bright red and throbbing. My other hand is bloody. Cringing, I pick pebbles and little bits of sand out of the wounds.

  I’ve also scraped up the entire length of my right arm, and when I feel my face, my fingertips come back stained with even more blood.

  But it could be worse.

  I could have fallen all the way and broken a leg like Hudson. And then where would we be?

  Gritting my teeth and trying to block out the pain, I continue up.

  And that’s when I hear it. I jerk my head up, knowing this time, without a doubt, it’s Jack.

  “Jack!” I scream.
I scramble up the hill, ignoring my searing hands. “Jack!”

  He’s far away, and I can’t tell which direction his voice came from. I hear him again, but this time he sounds like he’s farther.

  I stumble at the top of the hill but catch my balance and race to the trail.

  “Jack,” I yell again, this time growing frantic.

  And then I hear it. The beautiful, throaty sound of a four-wheeler engine starting. I race toward it, screaming Jack’s name over and over.

  I must catch him before he leaves. He’ll never hear me once he gets moving. When I round a corner up ahead, I see him. He’s just sitting there, talking to someone on a two-way radio.

  He clips the handset to his belt and puts the four-wheeler in gear.

  “JACK!”

  He freezes then turns. Our eyes meet, and he’s off the four-wheeler, racing toward me.

  I run for him, and as he crushes me to his chest, I wrap my arms around his back and sob into his shirt. After a moment, he holds me out at arm’s-length. His eyes scan my cheek and wounded arm, and his expression darkens.

  “Are you all right?” he demands. “What happened?”

  “Hudson fell off a cliff,” I say, and then I promptly burst into tears.

  Jack pulls me back, holding me close. “Is he…?”

  “His leg is broken, and he’s pretty banged up, but he’s okay.”

  He grabs the two-way radio from his side. “It’s Jack. I’ve found them.”

  I lie against him and tune out the conversation. I’m so tired.

  He shakes me gently, startling me awake. “You all right?”

  I murmur that I am, but it hurts to open my eyes, so I keep them shut.

  “Can you take me to Hudson?”

  Nodding, I pull away. I lead him down the mountain path. He holds my wrists, guiding me down, careful not to touch my hands.

  Relief washes over Hudson’s face when he sees us coming, and he almost cracks a smile when he says, “That was fast.”

  Jack eyes my novice nursing job, and then he scans our makeshift campsite. His gaze lingers over the dehydrated food wrappers and the tiny camp stove, and then he kneels to check Hudson’s wounds.

  Hudson hisses when Jack pulls up the bandage on his leg.

  With a grimace, Jack places the gauze back. “You did good, Kinsley.”

  I take a deep, shuttering breath. “I’m glad I had the first aid kit.”

  Jack’s smile almost reaches his eyes. He comes over to me and takes me by the shoulders. “He’ll be fine.”

  The sound of more four-wheelers breaks through the morning, and it’s the most glorious sound. Soon the rescue team has Hudson on a stretcher, and they’re walking him to the helicopter that showed up just minutes ago.

  I feel ridiculous when the paramedics sit me down and start patching up my scratches.

  “You need to get checked out at the hospital,” a nice but insistent man tells me.

  “I’m fine.”

  Jack steps behind me. “I’ll take her.”

  I’m too tired to argue, so I only roll my eyes. On the way back, I manage to stay awake on the four-wheeler, but I don’t last in his truck.

  Though I want to use the opportunity to talk, I’m out as soon as he starts down the road.

  The engine stops, and I jerk awake. I’ve barely made it two steps from the truck when my family swoops down on me, surrounding me like worrisome vultures.

  “I’m fine,” I insist, but they’re relentless.

  No one will take me back to the cabin and let me sleep.

  “What happened?” Mom demands as we make our way through the parking lot to the ER.

  We step into the bright, sanitary building.

  “Hudson walked off a cliff,” I say.

  Without missing a beat, Ginger asks, “You didn’t push him, did you?”

  Liv tries to hide her smile as Mom and Dad chastise Ginger. My older sister responds with a one-shouldered shrug.

  When I look over my shoulder to ask Jack if someone grabbed my pack, he’s not behind me. I stop and turn around, staring at the empty hallway.

  “Where’s Jack?”

  Dad frowns. “I thanked him for bringing you, and then he left.”

  He left? He just…left?

  “Did he say anything?”

  “Just that it looked like we had it under control.”

  Feeling foolish, I blink a few times. Why did I have to fall asleep on the way? But I thought…

  I fake a smile, and my family seems appeased. They continue on, asking questions about the ordeal.

  Only Ginger watches me with hawkish eyes. She knows something is amiss.

  We sit in the waiting room for over an hour just to have a doctor tell me I’m fine. He puts a few stitches in my arm, but that’s it.

  Marcus finds us in the hall before we leave.

  Ginger slips her hand into his. “How’s Hudson?”

  “Fine. They’re getting a cast on him now, and he got some stitches.” Marcus shrugs like falling off a cliff, breaking your leg, and spending the night in the woods is no big deal. “He gets to come home today.”

  “I’ll wait with you,” Ginger says.

  Marcus turns his attention to me. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Thanks for staying with him.”

  Just then, Hudson’s parents turn the corner, speaking quietly. When Barb sees me, her eyes go misty. She steps forward and pulls me into a tight hug, wrapping me not only in her arms but in her expensive perfume as well.

  “Thank you for taking care of him,” she says.

  Gaping, I look over her shoulder at Ginger for help. My sister gives me an exasperated look and jerks her head.

  Getting the point, I pat Barb on the back. She lets me go, but she and Dan continue to look at me adoringly.

  I nod, not sure what else to say. Finally, my parents take me away. I crawl in the backseat of their SUV, toss a travel pillow next to Liv, and promptly fall asleep.

  When I wake up, we’re in Glenwood Springs.

  I rub my bleary eyes. “What are we doing here?”

  “We’re going home,” Dad answers, as if it’s obvious.

  “Why aren’t you taking me back to the cabin?”

  Mom twists in her seat to look back at me. “You’ve done enough. Enjoy the rest of your summer. I know Grandma and Grandpa’s things haven’t been boxed up yet, but we can get it on the market the way it is. Once it sells, we’ll all go clean it out together.”

  “What about my stuff?”

  Mom scrunches her face as if she hadn’t thought about that. “We’ll have Ginger and Marcus collect it before they drive back.”

  I should be happy. Jack obviously doesn’t want anything to do with me. At least I get to go home.

  “Tell Ginger the mail key is sitting near the phone so she can check it for me,” I say, staring out the window.

  “Sure, honey.”

  Still exhausted, I lie back down and sleep the rest of the way.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  My legs burn. My lungs burn. I’m going to die.

  Next to me, Ginger’s not even out of breath. “Come on, Kinsley. Another ten minutes and then we’ll go get coffee.”

  I grunt because I’m not capable of speech at this point. I’m so out of shape. My summer of splurging wasn’t kind to me.

  I’ve been back for two weeks. I haven’t called Jack. He hasn’t called me. It was a summer romance—just what I needed to get over Hudson. Just like I told myself in the beginning, he was a distraction.

  And I miss him like I miss my own heart.

  I push myself forward, jogging hard to keep up with Ginger. Liv runs with us, but she doesn’t nag me like my older sister does. She’s got her headphones in her ears, and there’s a starry, far-off look in her eyes.

  Ginger glances at her MP3 player. “Done.”

  I gasp and slow to a walk. The walking feels good. The running feels like death.
/>   My older sister wears a satisfied smile. “You did better this time.”

  “Yay.”

  Even though we jogged for forty-five minutes, Ginger and Liv both still look cute in their workout gear. Their hair is perfectly in place behind their headbands, and they’ve barely broken a sweat.

  I’m sticky and gross, and my bangs are escaping their bobby pins. But I feel good. Stronger. Why didn’t I jog around the lake every morning? It would have been nicer than here on the jogging trails, where I feel like the city is encroaching in on me from every direction.

  We make it back to the car. It’s Liv’s turn in the front seat, and I slide in the back without an argument. As I’m hooking my seatbelt, the edge of an envelope catches my eye.

  Tugging it out from between the seats, I ask, “Ginger, what’s this?”

  She glances over her shoulder. “I don’t know. Open it.”

  I flip it over. My name’s on the front. “This is mine.”

  She looks at me through the rear-view mirror. “It must have fallen when I brought your mail back. Is it important?”

  The return address is to a publishing company in New York.

  “Just another rejection letter.”

  I open it while listening to Ginger and Liv debate wedding dress styles. We’re going for the first round of shopping this afternoon.

  “Kinsley?” Ginger asks, and I realize she’s asked me a question.

  She pulls up to a stoplight, and I look at her blankly through the mirror.

  “What is it?” she asks.

  I hold up the letter. “I think…” I read it again, confused. “I think my book’s going to be published.”

  Liv squeals, but Ginger stares back at me, as dumbstruck as I feel.

  This can’t be right.

  “The woman says she’s Amber’s aunt. She works in a publishing house.” I shake my head. “Amber sent her my manuscript.”

  “Are they offering an advance?” Ginger demands.

  “Ten thousand dollars. And she wants to see more.”

  Since I’m too in shock, Liv does a seated happy dance for me.

  Outside the coffee shop, I call the number on the letter. The first thing I do is apologize to the woman for taking so long to respond. She laughs, assures me it’s all right, and tells me she loved my book.