Love's Sporting Chance: Volume 1: 6 Romantic sporting novellas

by Janice Thompson

  “Says you. Rime ice is my favorite.”

  As the sun broke free of the horizon and its first golden light flashed over their heads, Darby tapped him on the shoulder. “Look at the rainbows.”

  He mentally framed the shot of the sunrise over Icarus Peak before he slowly turned to look at her. She was bundled up in fleece, her blond hair nearly covered by a wool hat with some sort of Norwegian reindeer design, blue wind pants and the pink anorak. Since when have I become so fashion conscious?

  He bent his head and stared at the ice crystals rooted to the rocks, beautiful patterns of primitive frosty pillars, delicate fern-shaped white gardens, and frozen hairline-white veining, all shot with the clear iridescent rainbows, courtesy of an early spring morning in mountain country.

  “Pretty, huh? You might want to take a picture of it.”

  “Plain sight is better on this one. The spectrum of colors doesn’t always translate well through the lens.” The shafts of sunlight lent it an ethereal other-worldly glow. Keats studied the silent world of God’s pristine creation, looking for the right shot, but his eyes latched onto her boots and traveled up to Darby’s face. Her grin was brighter than the sun.

  She shrugged one shoulder. “You could try. Capture it for posterity.”

  Keats shook his head. He was already dangerously close to breaking every promise he’d ever made to himself. If I get out the phone now, it’s over. “No. I’m not taking any more pictures.” The retort came out harsh, and he immediately regretted it.

  “Forever?” Her soft question made him feel even worse.

  He tried to fob her off with a laugh, but it sounded more like an angry bark. “Someone told me I take too many pictures. I ought to focus on living in the moment.”

  Darby winked at him, ignoring his bouts of rude behavior. “Maybe she didn’t know what she was talking about. Maybe you can live in the moment and take a few pictures to preserve the moment that will never come again. How about that?”

  “No can do, sorry.”

  “Not even if a friend was dying for a picture of rime ice?”

  “Not even.” He shook his head but smiled, hoping she’d understand his need to go cold turkey on this. Obviously, she didn’t.

  “I didn’t get a pink tourmaline rock or anything. Would it be so much to ask for one tiny picture?”

  His grin faded. Stop! Stop being Darby, I can’t take it. “It’s like going cold turkey. I promised myself I wouldn’t use the phone and I wouldn’t take anymore pictures. And Boy Scouts keep their promises.”

  “Ah.” She chewed on her fingertip, her breath coming in little white puffs. “I get it. So if you’re going to chuck the camera, could I have it?”

  “I didn’t say I was going to chuck it. It’s still my phone.”

  “I don’t think you’ll be getting any calls up here. Can I borrow it just for today? Aren’t Boy Scouts supposed to be friendly?”

  “Aren’t Girl Scouts supposed to be kind?”

  “Touché.” Darby looked off toward the sunrise. He could hear his heart beat in the silence. He felt terrible because he enjoyed the banter and didn’t want it to stop.

  “Besides, you said you take horrible pictures.” Keats flung out the conversational lifeline for himself.

  It worked. She turned back to him and grinned. “I do. They always stink, but since you won’t do it for me, I just want one picture of the rime ice, if we can settle this before it melts and disappears forever.”

  He reached into his sweatshirt pouch, retrieved the phone, and handed it to her just as Garrett and Bonnie joined them, offering trail mix and jerky for breakfast. Darby snapped pictures all the while they ate and talked. What kind of shots she got, he couldn’t say. She had a wild point-and-shoot technique and it appeared only Bonnie was allowed to see the results.

  “We’re burning daylight.” Garrett held out his hands and they closed the circle as he said a short prayer to start them off on their trek to the peak. They heard Dean’s whistle signaling the start of the race, seven AM, sharp.

  With day packs on their backs, they left the basin. Lola’s voice echoed to them across the expanse. “We’ll be waiting for you guys at the peak. Bring lunch!”

  They hiked up the base of a slide, the tumbled stones slick under their feet, but as the sun rose and the air warmed, the going gradually got better. On the steepest portion of the slide, the girls grabbed the rocks above them to steady their climb up the ascent. Garrett led the way, stopping and offering his hand to pull them up. Keats brought up the rear in case there was a slip.

  The smoother section of the ridge trail came into sight, stretching out to the west and Heaven’s Gate. He looked over to it for just a second and he heard the rocks rumble. He whipped his head back in time to check Bonnie’s body as she slid down a few feet on the loose scree. He grabbed her arm and could feel her trembling. “You okay?”

  Darby ricocheted down to help, with Garrett right behind her. “Bonnie!”

  Bonnie got to her feet, bent over, grabbed a large rock and threw up. “I’m sorry,” she gasped between retching. “I thought I could do it, but I’m getting nauseous and dizzy.” She sat down heavily on the rocky slope. Darby dumped her water bottle on a chamois cloth and gently rubbed it over her cousin’s face and held it on her forehead.

  “Why didn’t you say something?” Garrett demanded.

  “I didn’t want to ruin the hike,” she said in a frail voice.

  “We don’t care about the hike, we care about you.” Darby said. “Let’s go back to Traveller’s Pass and hang out at the shelter for the day.”

  “Fine by me,” Keats said.

  “No.” Bonnie stood on shaky knees and Garrett wrapped his arm around her waist. “I want to see you hike that Felicia and what’s-his-name into the ground.”

  Darby shook her head. “That’s not important.”

  “It is to me.”

  “We can’t win without our full team at the peak so let’s just take it easy and hang out. Sounds good to me.” Keats’ comment earned him a smile from Darby.

  “You can’t win but you can get bragging rights by getting there first.” Garrett took up his wife’s mantra. “We’ll take our time and head back down. You guys go on without us.”

  “You sure?” Keats asked. They both nodded and Garrett settled Bonnie on a boulder before he took Keats aside. While he fished in his pack for the trail map, Darby sat down beside her cousin.

  “Look, this isn’t the way I wanted it, but it’s the way it has to be,” Garrett said. “Just a word of wisdom before we split up.”

  “Okay.” Keats took the map and spread it out before them.

  Garrett spread his hand over the spidered network of trails. “You don’t need any of my tips to read the map. You know this place backwards and forwards. Give her a chance. Keep an open mind and an open heart today.” He clapped Keats on the shoulder. “What do you say, Buddy?”

  Keats scratched his jaw. “I won’t let you down.”

  “You never have.”

  “I was talking about the hike to the peak.”

  Garrett nodded. “Sure you were. Keep an eye on him, Darby. See you down at camp.”

  Keats watched his friends slowly hobble down slope, Garrett’s strong arm securely wrapped around his wife’s waist, supporting her every step. Once upon a time that was him and Jess.

  Garrett turned back after a few moments and yelled up, “You know you’re burning daylight!” Bonnie’s fainter call echoed his, “Go! I’m fine.”

  Keats was grateful for the shattering of the moment and the memory. He looked over at his hiking companion’s somber face. “She’ll be okay. It’s probably just a touch of the flu or the Bonnie/Julia Child Logan bread.”

  “Yeah.”

  He couldn’t stop himself. He took her hand and squeezed it. None of that. But he didn’t let go when her eyes met his. Instead Garrett’s words echoed in his head, open mind and an open heart today. “We ought to go.” He let his ha
nd drop from hers.

  “Yeah, if we don’t win this thing they’ll kill us.” Darby flashed a small smile before she looked down the trail at their friends disappearing behind a huge boulder.

  “Okay, let’s do this.” Keats gestured up the slope. “I’ll bring up the rear and remember, I’m here to give you a hand if you need it.”

  “I won’t forget.” Her soft words lingered in the chill air between them. She turned and dug into the loose rock with boots and hands, and her long stride attacked the uphill climb.

  Keats watched her go and the distance between them widened. Don’t just stand here looking. Get with it! He scrambled after her, surprised at her speed and agility. For someone who self-confessed to being out of shape, Darby was doing a good imitation of a seasoned hiker. She waited for him at the sharp ascent where the boulders rose twice as tall as their heads. Keats pressed alongside her and scaled the last few feet, reaching down to grab her wrist and help her over the rugged terrain. They stood together on the more gradual upward gradient and looked over the barren ridge toward the peak.

  “We’ve got a ways to go.”

  He nodded but smiled. “So do the Peak Baggers.”

  “Yeah, but Garrett said their trail is more direct.”

  Keats couldn’t hold in a snort of laughter.

  “What’s up?”

  “Just imagining the Neanderthal on the Hatchet Trail.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “And?”

  “There’s a place called Paul Bunyan’s Misery. The trail narrows and there’s a tight, I mean tight, gap in the rocks. It’s hard for a big guy to get through there. Haskel’s gonna have to suck it in big time.” It felt good. Too good.

  “You didn’t.”

  “I did.”

  “Well, at least little Felicia won’t have any problems.”

  “You mean A-li-cia.”

  He was finally rewarded with a laugh. “You know, I appreciate your help last night. It was sweet and I can’t say I didn’t enjoy seeing A-li-cia’s face when you stuck it to her, but I’m fine with them. I’m over it.”

  “Glad to hear it. Then you won’t mind us settling in on the peak with a chocolate bar while we wait for them to join us? One for me, one for you, none for them. Sorry, but I didn’t bring a magazine this trip.”

  Darby grabbed his hand. “For a Boy Scout you’re awfully devious.”

  “I like to think of it as resourceful.”

  She squeezed his hand and grinned. “If we’re gonna share that chocolate in style, we better move. We’re—”

  “Burning daylight.” He nodded. “So I’ve heard. Lead on.”

  “No, you take us up. You have a better pace.”

  “I don’t want to hike you into the ground.”

  She squeezed his hand again. “Like yesterday morning?”

  “Yeah about that…”

  “It’s okay, and you won’t hike me into the ground. I’ll let you know when I need a break. Now go!” Darby let go of his hand and gave him a gentle push toward the peak.

  Keats set off at a steady pace over the rough terrain. Rime ice clung to the rocks on the western slope where the rising sun had yet to penetrate the early morning shadows. He sucked in the brisk clear air and drew in the magnificent starkness of cobalt sky against stark rocky wilderness. He glanced back often and Darby was always there, typically looking off right or left, oblivious to his presence, lost in the moment.

  Her company put wings on his feet and set a maelstrom of emotions swirling in his heart. It wasn’t a coincidence they were hiking together against the backdrop of the heights of Heaven. He knew that, and finally, when he couldn’t take the tug of war in his heart any longer, he went to the Source. I said I didn’t want to do anymore one-on-one with Darby and here we are. You’re doing, not mine. I guess it’s technically not one-on-one since You’re here with us…. He shook his head. Oh, man, I’m beginning to sound like her. What do I do, Lord? I don’t know what to do anymore. You obviously brought us together, but I don’t know if I’m ready to take that step. Lord, help me to do the right thing for her and for me.

  Variations of the prayer ground around and around in his brain with each forward step up the ridge. Memories of Jess stalked him and snapped at his heels. They’d walked on this very trail years ago and he remembered the trip in snatches. The fall colors. The laughter. The delight. But no pain — only a lingering sadness. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he started when she touched his shoulder.

  “A little jumpy, Boy Scout?” Darby stepped up beside him and pointed. The tumbled granite slabs of Heaven’s Gate stood before them. She squinted up the barren half-mile to the peak. “Looks like we’re the only ones on the mountain so far.”

  “Looks like.” He’d been wrestling with that reality for the past hour. Jess wasn’t here. Darby was.

  She brushed past him and, with a delighted laugh, dropped her pack and ducked through the tilted arch of stone onto the Alpine plateau beyond.

  “You can go around, you know; it’s easier.” Keats picked up her discarded day pack and skirting the narrow opening.

  “Yeah, but who wants to come to Heaven’s Gate and not go through?” Darby tilted her head back to the sky, flung out her arms, and twirled around. “This is so beautiful. I love it. It’s like ‘Heaven’s Tableland.’”

  Jess’s words. He sucked in a breath and threw his head back to Heaven. Now or never. “My wife called it that,” he confessed in a harsh whisper.

  Darby froze mid-spin and caught his hand. She didn’t say a word and they stood in silence, the wind soughing up the sheer south walls of Icarus, blowing her blond hair free of the wool hat. Her fingers in his exerted no pressure, no claim on him to do or say anything. He blinked back tears he hadn’t let flow since that last trip to the cabin when he’d placed their wedding rings to rest, side-by-side in the ground, and buried his life.

  He felt a tear escape and run down his cheek — the rain of the soul watering the pain of new life springing from the old. The burst of emotions so long asleep and dormant seeped out of the raw cracks in his heart. The yearning to live again suddenly broke free. A sob tore loose. “She died of cancer.”

  Darby wrapped her arms around him, held him close, and rubbed his back. He leaned into her vibrant strength, his head resting against hers for a moment.

  He pulled away slowly and scrubbed the moisture from his cheeks. She didn’t try to draw him back. She didn’t offer him empty platitudes. She let him turn away from her and stare blindly into the expanse of nature, of life, of tomorrow and, most importantly, of today. What am I going to do with this moment, Lord? Funny thing. God let Garrett answer for Him: open mind and an open heart today.

  A movement caught his eye and he glanced down the Hatchet Trail to the east and saw a single line of four hikers working their way up to them.

  Keats handed her the day pack. “We’d better go.”

  Darby shrugged into her pack. “We don’t have to go on and meet them. We can head back down and let them have the peak and have the moment.”

  She wasn’t Jess but she knew his heart. He caught her hand. “How do you do that?”

  Her blond brows rose and disappeared under her hat. “What? I didn’t mean to—”

  “No. You said…” He stopped and struggled for the right words. They’d been bottled up so long it was hard to string them together in coherent thought. It was even harder to say them aloud.

  “Look, I’m not trying to push you off a cliff, here. Maybe we could just be friends.”

  Keats shook his head and grabbed both her hands in his. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Oh… okay.” Her face was so earnest and her eyes held his as a single silver tear slipped down her cheek.

  He pulled her close and whispered in her ear. “I want something more, I think, but…”

  He felt her nod against his shoulder. “It’s okay.”

  He drew in a shuddering breath as a muffled shout hailed them from below
.

  She stepped back and a gust of cold air flowed between them. “So are we going for chocolate or home? Your call.”

  I love you! The remembered emotion welled up inside him. He smiled, took her hand and pulled her toward the peak. “Chocolate!”

  He towed her along the spacious expanse of the flatland until the trail narrowed in the final steep ascent. Darby led them to the rocky heights. Rime ice covered every rock as they stopped at the signpost declaring Icarus Peak, elevation 4,752 feet.

  Darby turned to him. “Rime ice.” She pulled his phone out of her anorak pocket. “Chocolate?”

  He obediently pulled off his pack and procured the two candy bars. Darby positioned him by the sign. “Hold the chocolate where we can see it,” she said.

  He put the bar up to the sky as if offering a toast.

  She slipped in next to him and held the phone at arm’s length.

  “A selfie? Seriously?”

  “See what you’ve reduced me to? This will be my first selfie ever.”

  “Let me have that.” Keats held out his hand and she slapped the camera across his waiting palm.

  “I thought you’d never ask.”

  Oh yes I will. Just give me time. He leaned in close, their heads tilted against each other, cheeks touching, and snapped the shot.

  EPILOGUE

  Spring, one year later

  Keats gazed out at the vista awash with muted shades of spring green, the dark rivers of fir running down the lower slopes of the mountain, and the red blur of birch, maple, and poplar buds nearly bursting in the bright May sunlight. The sun slipped behind a cloud and a chill ran through him.

  “You aren’t getting cold feet, are you?” Garrett stepped up on the rock outcropping beside him.

  “No, I’m good.”

  “Glad to hear it. You owe me one for this one, Buddy.”

  Keats snorted. “Funny, I was pretty sure you owed me one, but you could be right. Just this once.”

  Garrett jabbed him in the ribs. “What’s that? I’m not sure I heard you.”

  Keats reply died in his throat as his bride-to-be topped the ridge. She wore jeans and a new pink hiking shirt, pastel this time, and bought special for the occasion. What else but pink?