I catch up to her in a few large strides, then match her pace as we head to the store. “Spill it.”
She grins. With the sun hitting her hair and highlighting her face, I’m getting the impression again that this girl is trouble, but I’m not sure what kind.
“I bet Nova that I could get you to watch the sunset with me,” Belle explains. “He said there was no way you would do something like that. It’s not in your schedule,” she says, imitating Nova and making little air quotes. I huff and she laughs. “Yeah, I think that right there was why he thought he’d win.”
“For the record, I’m not here for the sunset,” I tell her as we reach the small market. I reach for the door at the same time that she does. For a moment, we’re holding each other’s hand. Both of our eyes shift to stare at our hands before she drops hers, letting me open the door.
We pick out our drinks and I pay for them anyway. A thanks from Belle is all we say to one another before we get back to the vista in silence. It should feel odd, but it doesn’t.
We crack open our sodas and sip them in silence, waiting for the right moment. Belle hands me her drink while she grabs her phone, opens the camera app, and takes a few photos. After a couple of shots, she scrolls through them, and I find myself leaning over to sneak a peek. I’m surprised by how good they are. Between the jerky and whatever this moment is, Belle is full of surprises today.
She notices me looking, and I fake a cough as I turn toward the lake again. It’s beautiful when I take a moment to notice. There are still some lingering clouds above us, lit up with an array of reds and oranges in front of us to a spectrum of blue and purple behind. For a moment, I wonder how many sunsets like this I’ve missed over the last week. But then my brain kicks in, reminding me I don’t have time for sentimental bullshit.
“All right,” I say after a few minutes of silence. “I followed you here and watched the sunset.”
“And enjoyed a soda,” Belle adds, waving to the bottle in my hand.
Huh. I hadn’t realized the bottle was empty. I guess I did. I clear my throat and try to change the subject. “You said you had an answer to my question.”
Belle lets out a long, drawn out sigh, like the answer isn’t a simple one. Maybe she’s kept something bottled up for far too long and she’s just now letting it out. Which makes me wonder, why me, of all people? I’m not big on listening to other people’s issues. I don’t have time for my own problems. Why not Nova? Or Bats? He’s the “talk to me” kind of guy.
“When did you stop watching sunsets?”
I balk at the question, because one, not her concern, and two . . . Well, shit. I don’t know.
“Sorry,” she says, quickly backtracking and letting me off the hook for an answer. “Nova was sure he would win because he said you had stopped watching sunsets. I was curious why . . .” I turn to glare at her, and she pauses. “Right. My answer . . . My year got off to a pretty awful start. Like, really fucking awful.” She pauses again, then chuckles, but it’s a sad sound. “Yeah. Fucking. That’s why I’m here alone, I guess.” She blushes, embarrassed, then scrambles to clarify. “I mean, not me fucking. And I’m not here to fuck Nova. That’s . . . It’s . . .”
She’s rambling, but damn it, something’s there. And for some unknown reason, I’m curious to know what. “Hey, maybe take a deep breath there,” I suggest. I’m sure there’s something better I could say, but I’m a little out of my element. People don’t open up to me like this. Fuck. Why didn’t she grab one of the others?
She sucks in a few breaths, then nods when she’s good to continue. “I started the year with a choice. I could let an asshole run all over me and my dreams, or I could tell him to fuck off and do something for myself. Something that might hurt him as much as he hurt me. With any luck, I could make better memories out here than the shitty ones I started the year with. You know?”
Hmm. That’s it, huh? Someone hurt her. Pretty bad from the sound of it. I’d say she’s running from it, but no, that’s not right. It’s almost like she’s letting it launch her into bigger, better things. I let out a soft sigh. Lucky gal.
“That’s why I asked about the sunsets,” Belle explains. “People don’t stop loving the outdoors, Grinder. I thought maybe something similar had happened to you. That maybe someone, or something, had hurt you too? Maybe we’re just two people hurting and hoping that we can leave that pain somewhere on the trail.”
We stand there for a few minutes as the sky darkens, the warm, momentary connection between us slipping with the last rays of sunlight.
“Or maybe I was wrong,” she says, shrugging her shoulders as she finishes her soda. “But at least now you know.”
Belle turns to leave, but I snag her hand, preventing her from leaving. There’s probably a hundred shitty things I could say. Instead I tell her, “That was pretty good jerky you made. Maybe we’ll let you stay around a little longer. At least until the jerky runs out.”
She smiles, taking the remark for what it is, a step. In what direction, neither of us knows. But it’s a step. “First, thank you. I think that’s the first nice thing you’ve said to me. And second, I made enough for the whole trail.”
A chuckle escapes me. “We’ll see. Nova still eats like a teenager.”
Belle laughs with me as we start back to camp, making small talk along the way. Back in my tent, as I drift off to sleep, her laughter fills my ears, and her smile lingers in my mind, as enticing as the sunset we shared.
Not that I would ever tell Belle that.
Hell. For now, I don’t even want to admit it to myself.