* * *
“You have to be prepared for anything. More water.” Renzo inspected Canaan’s day pack as they got ready for the hiking portion of the morning. The tour guides were handing out waters and sack lunches, and Renzo was concerned at all the people grabbing a single bottle. His own daypack had a water reservoir built in, but he still took two water bottles as backups. “A good rule of thumb is three times the water you think you’ll need.”
“Okay.” Canaan added another water bottle next to his lunch. “Ready?”
“Yeah. Let’s try to stick close to the front. I want to hear the guide.” Renzo also figured that sticking to the faster group would ensure more time with Kelly, whom he liked, and less time with Canaan’s ex, who still looked hungover, adjusting dark sunglasses and already complaining about the hike’s length. Damian would not last five minutes in the navy, and Renzo had serious doubts about his ability to handle the narrow switchbacks of this trail.
He had similar doubts for Canaan but kept those to himself. As long as he stuck close to Canaan, he could help him out. He was used to caring about his teammates, putting them first, but the strange protectiveness he felt toward Canaan was something new, and he still wasn’t sure whether he liked it.
As they got started, the guide talked about the history of the trail, which had been built by a copper miner in the 1800s, but Renzo was more focused on the steep descent. The trail started with wider switchbacks and stone steps that required concentration, especially as the trail narrowed and the steps got farther apart. He’d been on tougher, less maintained trails while deployed, but he’d had his team of trained personnel with him and specialized equipment—he worried how the civilians would hold up on this challenging section.
Sure enough, there was some slipping and cursing as the zigzags got shorter.
“I thought my boots were good, but now I’m not so sure.” Canaan gave an unsteady laugh.
“It’s not the boots. Just go slow,” Renzo encouraged. The guide and Kelly got farther ahead of them, but he was more focused on getting Canaan the confidence to make it through the next section, which had narrow stone cobbles with a sharp drop at the edge.
“You can go ahead.” Canaan made a little shooing motion with his hand.
“No way.” Renzo pointed ahead of them. “Trail flattens out around the next bend I think. You’ll be able to catch your breath there.”
He knew from experience that small, manageable goals helped, and Canaan did appear to brighten, making it through the steep cobbles to the flatter section where the land opened up, giving a view of the trail below. Unlike on a mission where he had to be hyper-alert for dangers other than the trail itself, Renzo was able to enjoy the panorama with the vast canyon as far as the eye could see while Canaan drank some water. The green scrubby plants and the cloudless blue sky contrasted with the endless red rock, and he snapped a few phone pictures.
“What’s the hardest hike you’ve done?” Canaan asked as they got started again.
“Hmm. Probably late fall in the mountains in a country I’m not allowed to name. Snow and ice meant slow going but we were on a time crunch. Trail kept disappearing on us too. The skies were gray and cold, and we were pelted with intermittent rain on top of everything else.”
“Sounds miserable. Was the mission a success at least?”
“Not at liberty to say what the mission objective was, but yeah, we achieved it. Not without some...challenges though. I was damn happy to be extracted, that’s for sure.” Renzo shuddered at the memory of the bitter cold.
They made it to Coconino Saddle, a particularly picturesque gap in the cliffs, where the guide was pointing out Hance Creek in the east and Grapevine Creek to the west. Canaan, however, seemed more taken with all the warning signs about proceeding further.
“The danger warnings make me feel badass making it this far.” He grinned at Renzo, difficult descent seemingly forgotten in the adrenaline rush of making one of the highlight points.
“You guys want to keep going, or you want to join the group that’s planning to turn around here?” the guide asked, rubbing his full beard.
Renzo wanted to keep going—despite the worry over Canaan, the views really were incredible, and the exertion of hiking was doing wonders for his mood. But he turned to Canaan, let him decide. He wasn’t going to be a heel of a fake boyfriend and leave him behind.
“Some mine relics are coming up, right?” Canaan slugged back more water.
“Come with us,” Kelly urged, coming over. “We’ll find a spot to eat when the gradient levels out more—we’re through the hardest part of the descent.”