Going The Distance (Four Corners Book 3)

by Artemis Anders

  For the first time, Hannah saw the benefit of running with a partner, once she found the right partner. She not only felt safer, but there was something about knowing that Cain was enjoying it alongside her, and somehow their combined joy made it more worthwhile.

  When they crested the big hill and entered the dark forest again, the air felt cool and damp suddenly. Like rain was coming. Soon, Hannah saw a flash of light, then heard a crack of thunder that was so loud Hannah cried out in surprise. A few drops of rain landed on her face. Cain grabbed her hand and yanked her off trail and into the forest, where they took shelter under a thick grove of spruce trees.

  Cain got a half smile on his face as he turned her around and pushed her against the bark, pressing himself against the back of her as the rain began to fall harder. His hand reached into her running shorts and began stroking her.

  Hannah gasped a little. “You know, there’s a perfectly good bed at my place… with a much lower chance of getting spruce needles where we don’t want them…”

  “And?” he said in a gruff voice, his lips buried in her neck as he yanked down her shorts.

  Hannah said nothing else as she braced her hands on the thick tree trunk, no longer able to reason.

  He’d done this before—pulled her off the trail and to some secret place to do naughty things—and she never knew when it was coming. She’d gotten pine needles in her hair, dirt stains on her knees, and abrasions on her hands and back from their various adventures. She’d never known that interrupting her run for a quick forest adventure could be so worthwhile, but Cain had convinced her of that too. It seemed he’d convinced her of a lot of things.

  She’d wondered if the Grizzly Adams in him was turned on by the scent of conifer trees. But a bigger part of her suspected that he also did it to get her to quit focusing on her goal and relish the moment. Whatever his reasons, Hannah went along with it. It worked, better than she ever could have imagined.

  When finished with their quickie, Hannah cleaned herself up and yanked her shorts on again.

  “Pig,” she teased.

  Cain tugged on one of her braids, a gleam in his eye.

  The rain still fell hard, so they waited in their semi-protected area, getting only damp, Hannah stretching her tired legs.

  “Have you picked your crew for the race yet?” Cain asked her, running his hand through his damp dark hair, longer now that he’d been home a while.

  “I have. Teagan can’t come this year because High Peaks conflicts with Denver Comic Con, but Summer will be there, and I think Diana and Ash will come up for the weekend. They’ll have the baby with them, so they’ll probably have to alternate who’s crewing and who’s on baby duty…”

  “Where are they staying? Your house?”

  “I offered, but they’re camping. They take that kid anywhere. They even took him out of the country in January.”

  Cain nodded, impressed. “Good for them. I look forward to meeting them.”

  Hannah smiled. “They’re looking forward to meeting you too. They know all about Grizzly.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “How much?”

  “Everything. I even told them all about the time I sucked you off on the Gold Rush Trail a couple weekends ago…”

  He stared at her. “You did not.”

  Hannah laughed. “Of course I didn’t. They just know the basics.”

  “Including my past?”

  Hannah nodded, her smile fading. “I told them that part after you left. I didn’t share anything beyond what happened and that you took some leave to deal with it.” She paused. “You aren’t upset, are you?”

  He shook his head. “It’s probably better that they know. Then they won’t think I’m just some moody asshole who ditched you.”

  She kissed his cheek. “They don’t think that. Even though it’s true.”

  Cain chuckled. “What about a pacer? To keep you on track during the second half of the race?”

  “I’m still torn on that—”

  “Do it.”

  She sighed. “I probably should. I can ask a couple of the girls in the ultra group… it’s still more than a month away, and it’s good training…”

  “I want to do it,” Cain said.

  Hannah stared at Cain in surprise. “You do?”

  He nodded.

  “Which leg?”

  “Sixty on. I’d do the full fifty, but I want to make sure I’m not tired at the end, because that’s when you’ll need my help the most.”

  “Assuming I make it to the end…”

  “You’ll make it.”

  “That’s too much. That’s forty miles.”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been running. I can do it. The question is, do you want me there, bossing you around when you get cranky and delirious?”

  Hannah grinned, throwing her arms around him. “Yes! I can’t think of anyone I’d rather have pace me.”

  “I’m going to be an asshole,” he warned. “I’ll be Sergeant Grizzly, busting your chops whenever you get all stubborn and difficult.”

  “I can put up with Sergeant Grizzly if you can put up with Grace Kelly’s utter self-absorption and whining.”

  “Done.”

  Hannah gave him a big kiss, realizing then that the rain had let up a little. And they took off down the trail together.

  The last weeks before High Peaks went by quickly. Hannah did nothing but work, run, eat, and sleep. When he wasn’t on duty at the V.A. or taking time for himself, Cain joined her for some of the runs and for some of the eating and sleeping. They fell into a comfortable rhythm of togetherness that lived up to Cain’s promise and even went beyond Hannah’s expectations. They’d somehow surpassed what they’d had before he’d gotten deployed, and Cain seemed less burdened than he had.

  Hannah felt herself grow more and more fatigued as the race drew near. She’d gotten to the point in her training where she was tired of training runs, tired of having to wash her running clothes so often, tired of blowing through running shoes, tired of the grind of it all.

  Yet, her running buddies reassured her that was normal after training hard for well over five months. And while she felt tired, she didn’t feel burned out, and any bodily pains she suffered were manageable. Cain kept a close eye on her, questioning any aches she had, monitoring her hydration levels and her attitude, making sure she wasn’t pushing herself too hard and offering her a not-so-gentle reminder when she started to lapse back into old habits.

  When the taper came, the period just before the race when she could wind down her mileage and begin stockpiling the energy she would need for that thirty-hour day, Hannah felt grateful for it. And despite how lazy—even refreshed—she felt after backing off, she reined in any instinct to push herself harder, trusting that her body needed that respite before she would push it to its ultimate limit.

  Hannah coordinated with Summer and Diana, sending them her usual notes, estimated times, maps, and everything else they would need to survive a long-ass day and night in the Colorado high country. She bought food and supplies for herself, as well as food and drinks for her crew. Between the snacks, their sleeping bags and pillows, and their electronic devices, her crew would have enough to keep themselves occupied during the countless hours spent waiting for her.

  When the night before the race finally arrived, Hannah relaxed in their hotel room, saying little to Cain as she took her bath. After that, she laid out everything she would need for the race, obsessed over every detail, and checked her list over and over again until Cain finally snatched it away and ordered her to lie down and rest.

  And, knowing Cain was right and that she was more than ready, she sat down on the bed. She was still sick with nervousness. So much so that she’d had to force herself to eat her pre-race dinner that evening.

  Was she really going to do this again?

  Was she really going to put herself through the agony of it all and risk that after six months of training she might have to pull out again?

&n
bsp; Hannah took a deep breath and closed her eyes. And she reminded herself of all that was important.

  She’d done her best.

  She’d diligently trained.

  She’d listened to her body and showed it respect.

  That was all she could do. The rest was in fate’s hands.

  Even more importantly, she would relish the experience—the good, the bad, and the ugly—regardless of how far she got. And she would do so along with the people who mattered most to her, including the one who’d begun to mean the world to her.

  And with that thought, Hannah got into bed and snuggled up against Cain. He kissed her on the forehead, and she closed her eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Hannah lay there in the darkness, butterflies rumbling in her stomach.

  “You awake?” Cain said.

  “I’m awake.”

  “Go jump in the shower. I’ll start the coffee.”

  As Hannah showered, she let the warm water soothe her freaked-out self, knowing that the next time she stood in that shower would be after the race, when she was covered in sweat and salt and blood and God knows what else. When she would celebrate her finish, or stoically accept that this wasn’t her year.

  Then a new thought occurred to her. What if she finished, but not under thirty hours? What if she came in at 30:02 or 30:05? It happened. She’d heard stories. Was that an achievement? Sure. But it didn’t count as a finish. Her name wouldn’t go on the list of finishers, she would receive no medal, and she would be stuck with the knowledge that she’d run a hundred miles and gotten no credit for it. Which was possibly even worse than DNFing at Mile 80 because her foot crapped out on her.

  Hannah shook that thought away, knowing Cain would raise a disapproving eyebrow at her if he could read her mind. “Plan for the worst, hope for the best” was an adage she believed in. Which meant that the time for thinking about what could go wrong was over. She’d already done all the preparing she could. Now was the time to run like she loved it.

  Once cleaned up and full of coffee and breakfast, Cain drove her to the starting line. They found Summer, bundled up to deal with the pre-sunrise chill, which had gotten down to thirty-five degrees. Hannah shivered in her shorts, keeping her coat on for as long as she could.

  Summer gave Cain a quick hug. They’d met back in April, when Hannah invited Cain to join them for brunch at Lucy’s.

  After one last trip to the restroom, Hannah hugged Summer, thanking her again for being there. Then she turned to Cain, looking into his big dark eyes, the eyes that showed that he was right there with her, that he believed in her.

  “You got this, Grace,” he said. “Remember to have fun. Look around and see everything.”

  “I will, Grizzly.”

  Hannah hugged him and felt his arms around her. She gave him a quick kiss.

  “I’ll see you soon…” he said, giving her wink.

  Hannah waved goodbye and went to join her fellow crazies. And at 6:00 a.m. sharp, the gun went off and Hannah began.

  The first forty miles went great.

  Hannah’s legs felt fresh. She’d hydrated and fueled adequately, which was actually a feat in itself. Knowing what and how much to eat and drink was always a trick in long races. Too little deprived you of necessary energy to make your body go that hard for that long, especially at that altitude. But too much wasn’t ideal either, as it could upset your stomach and result in vomiting or diarrhea, or at best have her sneaking into the forest for too many potty breaks, which interrupted her flow.

  Fortunately, Hannah had her first race to fall back on as a guideline, and she’d managed to get her nutrition right that first time, thanks to Summer’s advice and to testing everything out during training. Looking back, she could now see how well she’d done the first time… and how little credit she’d given herself for that fact.

  Which, of course, meant that Cain had been right about that too.

  That first forty miles had been beautiful. Sunny, cool, with wispy clouds that drifted across the Colorado sky and spared them too much high-altitude sun on the exposed areas of the racecourse. Hannah had admired all the scenery, smelled the mountain air, and listened to the rhythmic sound of her breathing and that of those who ran nearby. She said hello to a few familiar faces from her running group, and to many more unfamiliar faces. She’d even chatted with one woman for a seven-mile stretch.

  She checked her watch only once in a while, to ensure she kept within her expected pace. Otherwise, she paid little mind to time and focused mostly on keeping a pace that felt natural to her.

  At the second aid station, Hannah lit up with happiness at seeing her friends. Summer was there with her smiling face, encouraging her and offering up everything she would need to reach the halfway point. Diana, Asher, and the baby were there too, and she hugged them and kissed baby Jesse’s cheek, which made him smile.

  “You look so good!” Diana said. “You don’t look tired at all!”

  Hannah smiled. “Oh, if you and Jesse make it into the wee hours, you’ll get to see tired like you’ve never seen it before.”

  “Can’t wait,” Diana said. “You’ll probably see Ash here and there, too. He’ll be on his bike.” Asher nodded at that.

  Cain wasn’t with them yet. He was resting and preparing himself to pace her later that night.

  After saying goodbye to everyone, Hannah began the long and steep journey up Spruce Pass. She would reach the 50-mile point and see her friends again after only ten more miles, but those ten miles were no ordinary miles. They would be some of the most arduous of the race and would take far longer than any other ten-mile segment. Then, she’d have to turn around and head back the way she came.

  The pass was steeper and longer than she remembered. Last year, her foot had already begun to make its unhappiness known by that time. Her mind had been focused on that and the fact that power-hiking up the steep portions of the pass had temporarily relieved her pain.

  But she felt no pain today. Now, she had nothing to focus on but the physical and mental effort of trudging up a steep hill at high altitude, knowing she’d have to turn around and climb it all over again. As she took one step at a time, she tried to notice her surroundings. It was quiet, other than the breeze blowing and the sound of quiet footsteps and heavy breathing of the other racers.

  When a wave of dizziness hit her, Hannah stumbled a little. It passed just as quickly. She realized it was nothing to worry about, just the altitude and exertion affecting her. She was at nearly 12,000 feet and had already run forty-five miles, after all.

  As she trudged up the pass, she glanced around again, noticing a fellow racer throwing up off to the side of the trail. Not long after, someone else scooted off the trail and dropped her racing shorts quickly. Diarrhea. It was all part of the journey of pushing yourself to the max at that altitude. Fortunately, so far, Hannah’s stomach and bowels seemed fine. Her battle was mostly mental now, facing the drudgery of pulling herself up and over this giant mountain when all she wanted to do was sit down and drink a little bourbon.

  She laughed aloud at that.

  She remembered her first planned visit to Cain’s cabin, and his telling her in that matter-of-fact way of his that he had water or bourbon. Then she pictured her and Cain sitting on her couch, stark naked, sipping her bourbon after one of their sexual adventures. Bourbon sounded crazy good at that moment, and she didn’t know if it was because it would relax her in just the right way, or because she associated it with Cain, who, in his own way, soothed her too.

  The wind kicked up. At that altitude, the wind was cold and brought goosebumps to Hannah’s bare arms and legs. She pulled out her windbreaker, folded into a tiny square in her hydration pack, putting it on as she power-hiked. And before she even zipped it up, a rain drop hit her cheek. She looked up; the sky was clouded over.

  Great. I’m up here on Spruce Pass, above tree line, and I’m going to get soaked, serve as a perfect conductor for electricity, and then
die from a lightning strike.

  She laughed out loud again. For some reason, the mental image of her being struck down by lightning in the middle of her second attempt at the High Peaks 100 cracked her up. She continued in her laughter as the rain began to fall, getting her braids and pretty much everything else wet. She pulled her hood over her head and secured it.

  Then she recalled her and Cain getting drenched on one of their runs together, his soaked but warm skin flush against hers as she’d straddled him behind some shrub, how burning hot he’d felt inside her, how his wet hair had dripped onto her face when he kissed her.

  And then another time, when she was on all fours…

  Really? This is what’s going to get me over this pass in the middle of a thunderstorm? Thinking about sex with my boyfriend?

  Hannah laughed at that too.

  “You keep laughing back there,” came a voice from ahead, a fellow crazy whose tired but smiling face looked back at her.

  Hannah smiled, starting to run again at a less steep spot. “Whatever I have to do to get myself over this bastard of a pass.”

  “Cheers to that,” he said, picking up his own pace. “This is my eighth time doing this thing, and Spruce Pass never gets any easier.”

  “I believe it.”

  More silence. It was too much effort to even talk at that point.

  As they ran and power-hiked on through the rocky alpine terrain, the rain showing no sign of letting up, Hannah’s mind returned to Cain. All those months since he’d returned from duty, he’d been there for her. They’d found a setup that worked for them, one where they both got the space they needed but also everything else they needed.

  There were times when Cain would withdraw, when he seemed troubled. A few times, she’d awakened to find him out of bed and sitting by the window, staring outside. She’d just learned to sit with him without talking or fussing over him. But she understood now, understood that it would take time for him to come to terms with what happened to him.