Going The Distance (Four Corners Book 3)

by Artemis Anders

  She downloaded every book she could find on ultrarunning, particularly those focusing on personal stories or the spiritual side of the sport. She figured maybe one of them could teach her something new.

  It got to the point where Hannah looked forward to coming home, curling up in her hammock with a bourbon, and reading. She’d only gotten through two of the dozen books she’d downloaded, but already she was beginning to understand Cain’s point better. There were so many other ways to approach ultrarunning, ways she’d never considered. There was a whole community of people like her, right here in Colorado, but she’d never really gotten involved. She hated parties and socializing with strangers, plus she preferred running alone, so she never bothered. But it meant she’d never gotten the chance to learn from other ultra-runners or be part of a community.

  Fortunately, it didn’t take long before the swelling and pain in her left foot diminished. And when it did, Hannah cheerfully went on a hike after work. A short hike. An hour, just to get some fresh air.

  As she trekked through the forest near her house, she tried to forget about her foot, running, and High Peaks, focusing only on her hike. On the bird sounds, the squirrels rustling through the forest underbrush, the color of the late summer sky.

  And on Thursday night, Hannah pulled out all her backpacking gear. The next morning, she and Cain would embark upon their first real backpacking trip together.

  “How’s the foot?” Cain called out from a few feet ahead of her on the trail.

  “The foot is fine, but fuck if I’m out of shape,” Hannah said, her breath heavy between her words. They were trekking up a steep hill at 10,000 feet, and with forty pounds on her pack, Hannah felt like the biggest slowpoke on this side of the Rockies.

  “I can hear you laboring back there. I told you I’d carry some of your load…”

  “Oh, shut up,” she said, half-annoyed and half-joking. As if she was going to give him the satisfaction.

  “Stubborn as shit.”

  Hannah smiled a little.

  When they reached a spot to rest, Hannah sipped her water and adjusted her pack. They peered out over the landscape, with its miles upon miles of trees surrounded by bald gray peaks, many of which stood over 14,000 feet. Oh, how she’d missed this.

  Cain looked down at her. “How you doin’ there, Grace?”

  “I’m fine. We can keep going.”

  “No hurry. We have plenty of time.”

  “I’m slowing you down.”

  He scowled, yanking on one of her braids. “You aren’t slowing me down. You’re doing great.”

  Finally, they arrived at the site Cain had picked out, just below timberline at 11,300 feet. It was a large cirque, with tall gray peaks on one side of them and forest on the other, and a blue-green lake nearby that shimmered in the still air. The wildflowers were gone for the season, and the leaves of the low-growing, high-altitude vegetation had already turned a burnished orange as they prepared for colder weather.

  Hannah took off her pack, grateful to get the weight off her as the thin air cooled her sweat-covered back. They set up camp, and then Hannah, tired from the exertion and the altitude, crawled inside their tent and took a nap.

  When she awakened later, Cain was asleep next to her and the light in the sky had faded. She put on warm clothes and her down coat, then went to set up their tiny backpacking stoves and start cooking dinner. By the time Cain awakened, dinner was almost done.

  “I smell freeze-dried food,” he quipped, rubbing his eyes as he approached her makeshift kitchen perched on a rock.

  “Do you want fajitas or beef stew?”

  “How about half and half?”

  “Perfect.”

  When it was done, they sat upon their small collapsible chairs and ate in silence, listening to the quiet of the forest. No highway noise, no voices, not even any crickets. Too high for crickets. After dinner, they made a fire and Hannah pulled out her secret stash: a small bag of marshmallows and two collapsible rods. When she brought them over, Cain stared at them.

  The eyebrow went up. “You brought marshmallows? Backpacking?” His voice was thick with disapproval.

  “Oh, you don’t want any?” she said innocently. “More for me.” She stuck two on the pointy end of her rod and held them near the flame.

  His eyes danced in the firelight. “You can’t tempt me like that.”

  “Are you saying you want some?”

  Cain’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe.”

  She shrugged. “Not very convincing.”

  After a few more moments, when her little white puffs started to turn golden, he finally said, “Okay, maybe I’ll have one.” He motioned to the bag.

  “Maybe?”

  “Fine,” he declared. “I want one. I want all of them.”

  Hannah smiled. “Much better.” She lifted her marshmallows out of the fire and handed the rod to him.

  Cain made a face. “You don’t have to give me yours.”

  “I want to.” She kissed him on the cheek and pulled off one of the marshmallows, bringing it to his lips.

  Cain’s eyes twinkled just a little before he opened up and let Hannah feed it to him. He closed his eyes, slowly eating the sugary morsel. “God damn, that’s good.”

  Hannah took the other one off and tried to feed it to him as well, but Cain snatched it from her hand and stuck it in front of her lips. She opened and he slid it in, and Hannah smiled at the burnt sweet flavor she’d loved since she was a child.

  They roasted a few more before Hannah cleaned off the rods, put them away, and dug out a tiny flask. She sat down next to Cain and handed it to him. He smiled and took a sip before handing it back.

  “You should know something,” he began.

  Hannah raised her eyebrows. “Know what?”

  “I’m not much of a talker when I’m up here. If I get quiet, I don’t want you to think I’m ignoring you. Just talk to me and I’ll snap out of it.”

  She smiled. “Okay.”

  The next day, Hannah and Cain took a hike up one of the peaks they’d camped near. When she found herself feeling tired, she decided to listen to her body and head back down. Cain offered to come back with her, but she urged him not to, especially since they could easily see the cirque they’d camped in and there was little chance of her getting lost.

  When she got back down, she headed to the lake, taking off her shoes and sticking her feet in the frigid water for as long as she could stand it. Which was probably no more than a minute or two. Cold water was the ultimate natural anti-inflammatory for her left foot, which she was determined to treat with more respect.

  Afterward, she spent some time wandering around the lake and the cirque itself, checking out the plants and listening to the occasional chirp of a pika in the distance. It felt strange to just… hang out. With no agenda, no training plan, no goal. She noticed more—the different kinds of plants, the color of the lake, which looked bluer that day, the temperature of the light at that time of year.

  She walked around for a bit, where it was flat or mostly flat, which didn’t feel tiring to her. She found wooden remnants of what looked like a small cabin from back in the mining days. Finally, she sat down with her back to a smooth rock, letting the sun warm her and hoping she’d put on enough sunscreen. It was a crisp clear day, with not a cloud in the sky, and not even a hint of an afternoon thunderstorm headed their way. Which allowed Cain to hike as long as he wanted without worrying about lightning.

  Sitting there in the sun, Hannah realized something. It was 4:30 in the afternoon and she had “accomplished” nothing. She hadn’t reached the top of the peak they’d hiked. Other than her deciding to hike back down, she and Cain hadn’t spoken two words to one another all day. And yet, she felt utterly content.

  She’d never enjoyed backpacking this much before. Going by herself was rejuvenating, but it was also lonely and it left her prone to goal-seeking or finding hikes she must finish or peaks she had to run. Backpacking with other men, t
he few she’d gone with… one wasn’t adequately prepared and complained, and another wouldn’t stop talking. She never thought she’d find someone who could be with her up here, much less make her enjoy it even more. But Cain had.

  More time passed, and Hannah stood up and headed back to camp. She wanted to at least get everything ready to make dinner. She had a surprise for Cain. She’d made her homemade spicy chili and brought it in a ziplock bag, along with fresh bread. That simple luxury had added the extra weight (and bulk) in her pack, but she knew it would be worth it to eat something hearty and homemade for their Saturday night. Cain would give her shit for it, but she didn’t care. The truth was, she loved doing little things for him.

  When the sun set and the light started fading to purple, Hannah began heating the chili, which would take time to get hot on their tiny stoves. As it heated, she took a couple of sips of bourbon and scanned the area toward the peaks, hoping Cain hadn’t gotten lost. But sure enough, she spotted him in the distance, heading her way, his heavy but confident stride navigating the rocky terrain like an expert. Just in time.

  He arrived looking tired but refreshed. When he took a look at the bubbling chili and ziplock bag containing the loaf of fresh bread, and smelled chili powder in the thin air, his eyebrow arched once again. Hannah just gave him a big smile, daring him to complain when she knew that all he’d want after a long hike was a good hot meal.

  “Ten minutes,” she told him.

  Cain shook his head, a smile on his face, before he went to the tent to change out of his sweaty hiking clothes and into his trail pants and coat. Soon, they sat down in their chairs to eat and watch the sky fade to darkness. Cain ate heartily, dipping his bread into the chili now and again. He was still in silent mode, but not once did Hannah feel ignored. How could she, when his big brown eyes twinkled more than usual and his contented devouring of her chili said it all?

  He was happy, and she’d contributed to that. Just like he’d contributed to her happiness.

  Afterward, after they cleaned their mess and put everything away, Cain took her hand and pulled her to him. He loosened her hair from its ponytail and buried his hands in her hair, gazing down at her before he kissed her. Not expecting the kiss, or its intensity as his tongue found hers, Hannah hesitated for a moment. But then she pulled him even closer and let herself be swept away by him.

  Without warning, Cain scooped her off her feet and took her to the tent, lowering her onto their sleeping bags. He began stripping her down and she did the same for him, until his muscular body lay on hers and he found his way deep inside her. Hannah let out a breath of pleasure as he moved slowly, gently… kissing her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, her neck. Hannah sighed beneath him, his warmth on her, her hands on the thick muscles of his back, her legs entwined with his, her hips moving with his, savoring every moment of him.

  When he pulled his lips away, he kept moving, slowly, his breathing a little stronger now, his dark eyes meeting hers, just barely visible in the soft moonlight that peeked through the window of their tent. She could see the emotion in them. She somehow understood what they said now, beneath the layers of unspoken thoughts and feelings, and it was the same thing she felt. That look told her everything.

  Mesmerized by those big brown eyes, Hannah gasped as Cain thrust into her again. And it triggered something in her, something that built up to a pitch so intense that she could no longer see him anymore. It exploded all around her, blinding her but waking her up to every other sense—the feel of his hot skin on hers, the sound of her cry, the vibration of his groan, the pulsing of him as he unloaded his warmth into her and everything they felt seemed to meld together like they were no longer separate people.

  And on it went until it finally ebbed, and Hannah once again grew aware of her body under Cain’s, and Cain’s body on hers, as they both slowed down. Cain stayed put, kissing her again, as if not quite ready for it to end. Hannah kept her arms around him, her hands buried in his thick dark hair, not wanting him to leave her yet. He then rested his forehead on hers, and they were nose to nose. Hannah smiled.

  Soon, when it was time, Cain removed himself from her. Hannah went to clean herself up before she put on her bedtime clothes and snuggled inside her down bag. Cain scooted up next to her, putting his arm around her and warming her on that chilly night that would reach sub-freezing temperatures.

  And in that contented state, Hannah drifted off to sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen

  When Hannah awakened, she spotted a ray of sunlight sneaking through the tiny window at the top of their tent. She looked over; Cain’s sleeping bag was empty and she could hear the sound of a propane stove and him quietly rifling through their kitchen items. She stayed where she was, snuggled inside her warm down bag, not quite ready to face the chilly morning.

  Heavy footsteps drew near the tent, and Cain kneeled down and popped his head in, his dark hair rumpled but his eyes bright. He stuck out his arm, at the end of which was her insulated cup, with steam rising from it. Hannah smiled and took the coffee, thanking him. A minute later, Cain crawled back into the tent with his own coffee, plus a few other treats: hardboiled eggs, and two somewhat flattened but fresh-looking croissants.

  “And you make fun of me for bringing marshmallows!” Hannah cried, giving Cain a playful smack.

  Cain shrugged. “You mentioned croissants were your favorite.”

  He picked one up and fed it to her. Hannah took a bite, a few of the buttery flakes getting on her fleece, which she ignored as she closed her eyes and savored the delicious pastry. Cain crawled back into his sleeping back and they propped up against their packs and enjoyed their breakfast.

  “Man, that was good,” Cain said, after finishing his croissant. “Why does everything taste better up here?”

  “You probably appreciate it more.”

  Cain nodded, sipping his coffee. “So, Grace. Tell me. Who hurt you?”

  Hannah glanced over at Cain. “Who hurt me?”

  “Yeah. People like us, who don’t let anyone get too close… there’s usually a reason.”

  “Why did anyone have to hurt me?”

  “It doesn’t have to be any one person… it can be a whole shitload of small hurts that add up over the years.”

  Hannah thought about the question for a minute. “I’ve never really thought of it that way. It’s more like a whole shitload of disappointments that have added up over the years. Although disappointments are like hurts, I suppose.”

  “Like what kind of disappointments?”

  Hannah shrugged. “Guys who want more time and attention than I can give them. Guys who want to run with me, and I prefer to run alone, which offends them. Most of them can’t even keep up, and when they can, they just want to talk the whole time.” Hannah looked at Cain. “I may be overly focused on my goal when I train for a race, but at least I know how to shut the fuck up for five minutes and be out there, you know?”

  Cain smiled. “I do. Better than anyone. I kept waiting for you to elbow me and make me talk yesterday, and you never did.”

  “I knew you’d talk when you wanted to. It’s just one day. And you talked to me plenty, just not with words.”

  Cain’s eyes softened. “Well said.” He sipped his coffee again. “So, what do these chumps do when you state your limits?”

  Hannah looked down. “They get whiny, and they get mad. One guy, a runner I’d been seeing right before I met you, got upset and called me a bitch when I said no to hanging out with him that night. I didn’t have plans, I just didn’t want to hang out. You know me, I was honest about that. The bitch thing didn’t bother me all that much. Sticks and stones, and all that. But then he said I would never make anyone happy, and that I was going to die alone.”

  Cain made a face, a flash of anger in his eyes. “Really?”

  Hannah nodded. It had hurt, but she wasn’t going to admit it out loud. She wouldn’t give it that power. “Has anyone ever said that to you?”

  “
No.”

  “You’re a guy. People almost expect guys to be commitment-phobic.”

  “I don’t know about that. In my case… I just haven’t been with anyone in a long time, until you.”

  “Why not?”

  Cain looked down at his coffee cup, swirling his coffee just a little. “I couldn’t begin to deal with that. That Grizzly Adams guy you met that night? With the long hair and the full beard? I was pretty much that guy since June of last year. I was… working through some stuff.”

  “Because of something that happened in the Army?”

  He nodded. “I left. After some ugly shit went down.” Cain took a deep breath and let it out, sinking back against his pack. “There was an incident, overseas. The kind of incident where people wind up dead or badly injured. Some of our people died and…” He looked away, staring at the opening in the tent door, as if hoping to escape through it. “They all died under my care. It was a sneak attack, and we were shorthanded, and I couldn’t work fast enough.”

  Hannah’s heart pounded in her chest at Cain’s grave tone, and the way he stared off into the distance, as if seeing it all over again. “Jesus, Cain. That’s awful.”

  Cain said nothing.

  “How did you get through that?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “I just did. You have to. Everybody has to. But… I went downhill after that, emotionally speaking. I couldn’t let it go. It wasn’t long before I left and moved here, and bought the cabin. The place was a dump when I bought it, and I did a lot of work on it. It’s the only thing that kept me sane—that and these mountains. And maybe James… a shrink over at the V.A. they made me talk to. I worked on the cabin and backpacked for days at a time. It took me a fucking year before I could even deal with other people.”

  “So that’s why you looked like you wanted to kill me when you opened the door that night I got lost,” she said. “I’d stumbled upon Grieving Grizzly, who didn’t want anyone stumbling into his Den of Pain.”

  Cain chuckled at that. “Pretty much. I hate it when people drop by unannounced, and you were the first person who had in the year I’d lived there.” He turned to look at her. “But when I saw you, all scraped up and dehydrated and worn down, and you had that bad attitude… I think it was the first time in a year that my dick got hard.”