She smiled. “It was great. We had the best time. We got rained out once or twice, but the rest of the trip was beautiful.”
They arrived at Lucy’s and went inside, managing to score a small table on the patio. They sat down under an umbrella that shielded them from the sun, next to a window box filled with a burst of purple, pink, and white flowers.
“How’s your foot?” Summer asked. “You look like you’re walking normally again.”
Hannah smiled. If there was anything to smile about, it was that. “I am. It’s been six weeks, and the doc said probably a couple more to be safe. Then, I can have my life back again.”
Summer gave her a look of gentle disapproval. “Don’t jump into running a lot too soon. You don’t want to re-injure yourself.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
They drank their lattes, ate their salmon Benedict, and caught up on their lives. Hannah was surprised when she got full before even finishing her last few bites. Summer noticed, too.
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you leave food on your plate.”
Hannah chuckled. “Yeah. Doing nothing but swimming and sitting on my ass for six weeks will do that.”
“But that hammock, though… what I wouldn’t give for one of those.”
Hannah nodded. “Oh yeah. That thing’s been a lifesaver.”
“What else have you been up to? You mentioned that you went camping… did you go by yourself?”
Hannah hesitated, smiling a little. “No.”
“You went with a guy! Who is he?”
“So, at the race, remember when you and Teagan picked me up at the med tent?”
Summer’s blue eyes widened. “Oh my God! That doctor! I knew there was something between you guys…”
Hannah felt herself redden, almost wishing she hadn’t brought it up. “It’s not a big deal. We’ve just been… hanging out. It’s nothing serious.”
“Okay,” Summer said, like she didn’t entirely believe her. “Yeah, the way that guy talked to you… he seemed like someone who could handle you. And I mean that in the best way,” she added, just a hint of chagrin on her face. That was Summer, never wanting to offend.
“Yeah,” Hannah admitted. “He’s… I’ve never met anyone quite like him.”
“Have you been seeing him since the race?”
“More or less. Like I said, we’re just hanging out.” Hannah fidgeted with her coffee cup, suddenly wanting to change the subject. She couldn’t tell Summer about her and Cain’s naked-on-the-couch “we like each other” conversation, or about him making her come twice on her own dining table, or about their conversation under the starlight. Nor could she admit that she liked him, and couldn’t wait to see him again. “What about you? What about that cute mountain biker I saw you with on the trails?”
Summer’s smile faded and she looked down for a moment. “That didn’t go anywhere.”
“Why not?”
She hesitated. “He seemed really into it, and then all of a sudden he started blowing me off. I finally confronted him about it… and he said I was too nice.”
Hannah grimaced. In her opinion, Summer was too nice, especially to men. But then again, people had told Hannah she could stand to be nicer, so she made no comment on that, not wanting to steer Summer in the wrong direction. “He really said that?”
“Yeah. Like it’s some character flaw to want to do good things for others.”
“I’m sorry.”
Summer set down her coffee cup and eyed Hannah. “Do you think he’s right? Do you think I’m too nice?”
“Yes.”
Summer sighed. “Tell me how you really feel.”
Hannah grimaced again. “I’m sorry. You know I don’t have much of a filter. And keep in mind that you’re asking the opinion of someone who’s gotten a lot of shit for not being nice enough, and who’s basically an idiot when it comes to relationships. So my opinion probably isn’t worth much.”
“I wouldn’t go that far. But what I find interesting is that guys never blow you off, unless it’s because you won’t give them a commitment. If anything, they seem drawn to you. I want commitment and find guys who won’t give me that, and you don’t want commitment but seem to attract guys who do.”
Hannah sipped her latte. “See? Relationships are fucked.”
Summer smiled. “What about this doctor… what’s his name?”
“Cain.” Just the sound of his name on her tongue made her feel a little warm and fuzzy.
“Is Cain hounding you to spend more time together or get closer?”
Hannah shook her head. “He’s made it clear that’s not going to happen.”
“Huh. And you’re honest with him about who you are?”
Hannah nodded.
Summer sighed. “I don’t get it. What’s wrong with being nice?”
“You’re asking the wrong person. In my opinion, nothing. My life would be a lot easier if I were more like you.”
Hannah left her doctor’s office with a smile on her face. Finally, after eight weeks, she’d given Hannah a clean bill of health. She could get out of her house and hammock and start living her life again… hiking, backpacking, and, most of all, running. She warned Hannah to go slow and ease into it, and Hannah promised that she would.
She was so excited. Beyond excited. It was August now, and there was still time to get in some backpacking trips with Cain before it got too cold. Then there was running in autumn, when the aspen leaves turned orange and gold. After two months of purgatory, she would get to be outdoors again!
Not that purgatory had been too bad. Cain had taken her camping twice, when he could get a weekend off at the hospital. They’d cooked a few dinners together, mostly on his deck with its great view. She’d finished Jane Eyre and a few other books, counting the days until she finally got those magical words from her doctor.
The first thing Hannah did was go hiking. She took a two-hour hike after work, near home. It was just her, the trees and wildflowers, and the occasional mountain biker. God, it felt good. To be out there again in the wilderness, away from it all, and on her own two feet. Now, she’d be able to rebuild her running base in the fall and be ready to start training in winter.
Next year, she was going to conquer the High Peaks 100.
Her phone rang. Hannah grabbed it to silence it. She’d forgotten to turn off the sound, and there was something completely unnatural about a ringing phone in the great outdoors. But when she saw it was Cain calling, she smiled. They hadn’t talked in a few days and she couldn’t help but pick up.
“Well hello, Grizzly.”
“What are you up to, Grace?”
“Oh, I’m just overlooking the entire Front Range, checking out the wildflowers…”
A pause. “Do not tell me you’re out running.”
She laughed. “I’m hiking. The doc told me my foot’s better and it feels fine. And besides, I never bring my phone when I run.”
“You should, Hannah. On the long runs. Just in case. And be careful about that foot. Don’t go too hard yet.”
“Okay, bossy. How are you?”
“Tired. Busy day in the ER.”
“Do you need me to come feed you?”
“Yeah. Starting with your pussy.”
Hannah shook her head, squelching a laugh. “Pig.”
“You like it.”
It was true. She did like his crude side. “I should be done in forty minutes or so and I’ll pick up some steaks. Sound good?”
“Sounds great.”
Hannah pulled out her running shoes, brushing off the light layer of dust they’d collected. How she’d missed them. How she’d missed her shorts and her running socks and all of it. It had only been a week since her clean bill of health, but the doctor said she was healed. And if she was healed, then she should be able to run. She was only going to do a few miles, which for her was nothing at all.
Once she got on the trail, she felt stiff, awkward, and slow. Whi
ch made sense, given her time off. But it wasn’t long before the cobwebs cleared and she was in the groove again, cruising down the trail with the blood pumping through her veins. She got two miles in and felt so amazing that, instead of turning around, she went farther. Despite her slowed pace and decreased fitness, she felt pretty damned good and her foot didn’t have a word to say.
She had her life back again. Finally!
The next day, Hannah went out again. She took a day off after that, during which she was tempted to run again but decided it was better if she waited. The next day, after work, she ran again. This time, she let loose and ran farther. When she reached the five-mile point, she realized she should turn around. Ten total miles was pushing her luck, despite that distance being utterly mundane in her previous life. She didn’t wanted to stop and was tempted to keep going, but she checked herself and turned around. After a couple more miles passed, she began to feel tired. It would take time to build her endurance again.
Then, a pain shot through her left foot.
Hannah grimaced, stopping suddenly, panic striking her heart.
No. It can’t be.
She walked for a few steps and tried again. More pain. Mild pain, but pain in a very familiar place.
Hannah closed her eyes, dread falling over her and tears almost coming to her eyes. She began to walk, knowing she still had several miles to go and wouldn’t get back until after dark. But even as she walked, she could feel her foot twinging.
Hannah stopped, deliberating. Could she make it back on her own? Of course. Is that what she preferred? Definitely. But was her stubborn self-sufficiency a good thing at this moment?
She didn’t know. But there was one person who did. She heaved a sigh and pulled out her phone.
“What’s up, Grace?” came Cain’s deep voice.
“Hi.”
There was a pause, like he already knew something was wrong. “How are you?”
“Not so good.”
“What’s wrong?”
“My foot hurts. I’m out running on the Fir Glen Trail and my foot hurts. I can make it home, but I didn’t know if that was a good idea—”
“How far out are you?”
“About three miles.”
“Just stay put. Don’t run, don’t walk. I’m on my way.”
“What do you mean, you’re on your way?”
But there was no answer. He’d hung up.
Thirty minutes later, Hannah was sitting against a white-barked aspen tree, the leaves fluttering above her in the breeze. She heard the sound of a two-stroke engine in the distance. She made a face, wondering who the hell brought an all-terrain vehicle on the trail when they were illegal. But then she realized it was Cain, coming to get her on his four-wheeler. When he pulled up, he eyed her through his sunglasses.
“Hop on,” he said.
As Cain drove her back to the trailhead, they passed a few other hikers, all of whom gave them dirty looks. When they got back, there was a green truck parked nearby with a uniformed man sitting inside. A forest ranger. Hannah muttered a curse, especially when the ranger saw them, got out of his vehicle, and approached.
“I just got a report that you were on a trail that doesn’t allow motorized vehicles,” the ranger said, eyeing Cain.
“I was.” Cain motioned to Hannah. “She’s injured, and it seemed more cost effective to just pick her up on this than to call you guys.”
“Motorized vehicles are illegal on these trails,” the ranger went on. “Period.”
Hannah spoke up. “It’s my fault. If you have to cite us, I’ll take the citation.”
“Let me see your IDs,” the ranger said.
Hannah retrieved her ID from her hidden pocket and Cain pulled out his wallet. The ranger glanced at Hannah’s before returning it. He eyed Cain’s for several moments. “How long have you been at the V.A. Hospital?”
“A couple months,” Cain said. “I was active duty before that.”
The ranger eyed him again. “We appreciate your service. I’ll let you off with a warning this time. But don’t bring that thing on the trails again. It pisses people off and they make my job difficult.”
Cain smiled. “Will do. Thanks, man.”
Cain drove them back to Hannah’s house. When they went inside, Hannah sat down and began peeling off her shoes and socks while Cain poured them a bourbon. He handed hers to her and sat, dark eyes filled with disapproval.
“When did you start running again?” he said.
“Monday.”
“How many miles?”
“Four Monday. Four Tuesday. Tonight… seven.”
“Which means ten if I hadn’t come and gotten you.” He shook his head. “So that’s fifteen miles, or eighteen if you’d finished, in four days. On a foot recovering from a stress fracture, after you haven’t run in two months.”
“I felt fine! And that’s nothing compared to what I used to do.”
Cain raised an eyebrow at her.
Hannah sighed. “Okay, I got carried away. You’re right, I’m an idiot, and you get to say I told you so.”
“You’ve just been biding your time, haven’t you? Counting the days until that eight weeks was up and you could get back to your addiction again?”
“So what?” she said, annoyed. “You know I love to run. It’s who I am and I’m not going to apologize for it.”
“Then don’t.” He sipped his bourbon. He seemed to mean it, like he was done lecturing her and now it was up to her to either take his advice or ignore it. And that’s when she realized something.
“I could’ve walked home on that foot, you know. I could’ve run on it if I had to. But I remembered what you told me, about respecting my body. I didn’t run through the pain and I didn’t hike through it either. You know I hate asking for help, but I did. I’m trying not to be stubborn and pigheaded,” she added, recalling his assessment of her after she’d refused his help the night they met. “I’m sorry I inconvenienced you.”
He shook his head. “I’d have driven ten times that distance to help you, and you should know that about me.”
Hannah’s prickly feeling faded, her heart swelling just a little at Cain’s comment. She smiled.
He motioned to her foot. She lifted it and Cain felt around. Hannah grimaced a little, but nothing like last time.
“The swelling isn’t bad,” he said. “A good sign.”
“Did I re-fracture it?”
“Probably not. But you pissed it off. It takes time for the bone and all the tissues to recover. You went too hard too soon, before it was ready. If I were you, I’d back off on running for a while.”
Hannah sighed again, knowing he was right, and that her eagerness and over-exuberance had just cost her more running time. “What about hiking? And backpacking? You said you would take me.”
Cain went to her freezer and pulled out her icepack. “I want to take you. And I will, if you’d stop injuring yourself.”
Hannah giggled. Cain sat down again, icing her foot and bringing both her legs to rest on his.
“I just…” She sighed. “It’s hard. Breaking old habits.”
“It doesn’t happen overnight.”
“And you’ve been through this before, with running, right?”
He shrugged. “This isn’t about running. It could be anything. It’s about how you approach life. Life can give you a lot, and it can take it all away in a matter of moments. To me, you have to live for the everyday stuff and not get too focused on some goal or wish, because you may never get there.”
“Did you learn that in the Army? With whatever happened?”
Cain hesitated, looking away. “To some extent.”
“I don’t want to pry, Cain—”
He scowled. “Stop calling me that. It freaks me out.”
Hannah stared at him. “You want me to stop calling you by your name?”
“Yeah. You only use it when something’s wrong. I’d rather be Grizzly, or even Pig.”
Ha
nnah smiled at that. “Okay… Grizzly. I know you don’t like to talk about what happened before you moved here. Is it because it’s too painful?”
“Maybe,” he said quietly, looking down at his bourbon, swirling it in his hand. “But it’s not just that. I don’t like putting my shit on other people. Like some fucking drunk at a bar whining about his problems to the bartender.”
She nudged him with her foot. “Oh, come on. That’s not even close to a valid comparison and you know it. You don’t have to bear those burdens by yourself.”
He shook his head. “I do. It’s what I signed up for when I joined the Army, and it’s what I signed up for when I chose my line of work. I see ugly shit sometimes, and that’s that. Telling you isn’t going to change a thing.”
Hannah sipped her bourbon, getting the feeling she should drop it. But it annoyed her a little. Normally, she never wanted to listen to men blather about their problems. But she wanted to know Cain’s. Not out of curiosity, although she was curious, but because she somehow sensed that he was holding it all in like a painful secret, and that it weighed him down. Part of her wanted to take some of that burden and carry it for him.
But instead, she shifted the conversation back to the original topic. “So what you’re saying is, life can be fucked sometimes. And instead of working like a dog for one day of glory, you partake in a little of the glory every day, enjoying the journey and then celebrating wherever it takes you.”
Cain’s face softened into one of his rare smiles. “You got it, Grace.” His hand traveled up her thigh… all the way up. “So, do you want dinner? Or do you want me to punish you for being a bad girl today?”
Hannah smiled. “What do you think?”
Chapter Thirteen
Hannah avoided running for several days, taking up residence in her hammock once more and doing little more than walking to run errands. It wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t as difficult as before. She was starting to see that having patience now would bring rewards later, and that the idea of “no pain, no gain” was for idiots. She knew that was barely scratching the surface in terms of what Cain had been trying to teach her, but it was a good start.
Going The Distance (Four Corners Book 3) Page 9