He put a hand lightly at the small of her back, ostensibly to help her around a boulder, mostly just because he wanted to touch her. “Yeah. It’s very nice.”
It pleased him that she made no effort to move away from his hand as they continued to walk, stepping ahead only when the path grew too narrow to navigate side by side.
He lifted an eyebrow when they came to a footbridge over the stream. The bridge was a long, somewhat bouncy-looking, narrow log with a single handrail. Water tumbled noisily over boulders beneath the bridge—and the water looked cold.
Lowering her camera after taking a shot of the bridge, Natalie looked back at him. “Problem?”
“No. Just hoping the traction on these shoes is all the ads claim it to be.”
She laughed. “Come on. I promise not to push you in. As long as you behave.”
Was that a hint for him to keep his hands to himself? Watching her delicately crossing the bridge, he told himself it might be worth a cold dunking to touch her again.
“Smile,” she said from the other side of the prong.
Posing in the middle of the bridge, he grinned as she snapped his picture.
“Man, these trees are huge,” he commented a few minutes later as the trail wound between massive trunks. Gnarled roots snaked across the worn path, waiting to snag a carelessly placed foot or twist an ankle. Patches of moss added to the challenge, which was why, he supposed, the guidebooks rated this hike as strenuous. That, and the increase in altitude.
Natalie placed her hand on the rough bark of a tree that had to be twelve feet in diameter. “Yellow poplars. This is virgin forest. Beautiful, isn’t it?”
Frowning at some initials clumsily carved into the bark of another massive tree, he nodded. “Wonder why some people can’t appreciate nature’s beauty without making their own marks on it.”
“Or leaving their trash behind,” she agreed with a look of distaste. “Nothing makes me madder than to see a beautiful place soiled with beer bottles and aluminum cans.”
They pulled water bottles out of their packs and took a few sips while they looked around. “How far do you think we’ve walked?” he asked, guessing at a couple of miles.
“About two and a half miles, I think,” she hazarded, confirming his own guess. “A little over halfway.”
Capping her water bottle, she returned it to her pack, then raised the camera and focused on a tangle of roots with wild fern growing among them. He’d noticed that she had a flair for photography; she’d taken some interesting shots during their walk so far. He would have to ask for copies.
“Natalie.” He nudged her arm and pointed to where two wild turkeys strutted across the path.
She swung the camera in that direction, snapping a couple of shots before the big birds fluttered into the woods. “Cool,” she said, lowering the camera with a smile.
He took the camera from her hand and stepped back. “Stand in front of those two black cherry trees,” he instructed. “Right between them. Yes, there.”
He took the picture, then glanced at the screen on the back of the camera. “Nice. Now move over there, by the water.”
She shook her head, but obliged, anyway. “I didn’t bring the camera so I’d have a lot of pictures of me.”
“I don’t know why not. You’ve been taking shots of natural beauty all day.”
She groaned and snatched the camera away from him, leaving him grinning as they started walking again. He was almost sure she’d had to struggle not to smile in response to his corny quip.
They crossed another log bridge and walked between two more large poplars, where they encountered a doe quietly foraging for vegetation. She looked up at them, waited politely for Natalie to snap her picture, then bounded away in graceful leaps, leaving her human admirers smiling. A squirrel barked in a tree above them, and Casey looked up to see it watching them and twitching its tail. “The wildlife out here is certainly accustomed to people.”
“Considering how many thousands take this hike every year, it’s no wonder,” Natalie replied. She zipped the front of her bright red vest. “It’s getting cooler as we climb higher, isn’t it?”
“Are you cold? You can wear my jacket.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine. This vest is actually pretty warm. We’ve only got about a mile to go before we reach the falls.”
He stepped carefully over a pile of somewhat slippery rocks. “I’m really glad we decided to do this. It feels good to get away from everything for a while.”
She took the hand he extended to help her over the rocks. “It does feel good,” she acknowledged, and then smiled ruefully. “I have to admit I’m a little out of shape. Too much desk time, not enough gym time the past couple of years.”
It might have been a good time to slip in a question about what she’d done at that desk, but