An hour later, we reach a dirt road running down the middle of the canyon. A couple of hikers ahead of us are grabbing water bottles from a metal cabinet by the side of the road. We head their way to top off our own supplies.
“Thank god for this,” one of them says. “We hear it’s dry from here to Wrightwood.”
“Good to know,” Grinder replies. “Have a safe trip.”
Dropping our packs by the cabinet, the guys dig into the water cache while I pull out my phone and start snapping away.
“All right, princess. Wrap it up,” Grinder says twenty minutes later while I’m taking pictures of a series of scarps in the canyon wall.
I whirl and take a picture of him, surprised to find him grinning, if only a little. “For Rachel,” I say. “She said to get pictures of the wildlife. I think a grinning Grinder counts.”
“Wild, huh?” Grinder asks. His grin grows, but with a touch of wickedness mixed with amusement. He snags my phone, spinning it and snapping photos of me. “Then don’t forget the wild geologist in her natural environment,” he taunts as I reach for the phone. “A field of rocks!”
While I’m distracted, two large bodies move in behind me, Nova grabbing me by the waist and pulling me close. Then Grinder does the most unexpected thing. The last thing I would have thought possible. He huddles in close to us and . . . he snaps a selfie of us. All of us. And he’s smiling. Full-on smiling. With lips curled up and showing his teeth. He snaps a bunch in quick succession before handing my phone back. I stand there, stunned at his carefree behavior.
“Come on, Belle,” he says, breaking me from my trance. “Grab a rock and let’s go.”
“Grab a rock? Uh, no. Haven’t you ever heard of Leave No Trace?”
All three stop midway back to their packs. They turn and look at me, perplexed.
“But . . . you’re a geologist,” Nova points out. “Aren’t you supposed to collect rocks or something?”
“Study them,” I correct. “If I started picking up rocks everywhere we go, my pack will weigh a ton before we’re halfway to Canada. I have my pictures.”
“So, you’re saying you don’t have a rock collection? At all?” This from Grinder, looking as perplexed as the other two.
“I don’t have the room,” I tell, because I don’t. “And . . .” I look away, because it’s stupid I would even voice the second reason. A reason that shouldn’t matter.
Grinder doesn’t miss the way I trail off. He takes a few steps closer. “And?”
I huff, because here I was, having a good time. “Bryce always thought it was stupid.”
“The asshole?”
“I never thought about a rock collection growing up, though I considered it once I got into geology. I’d see something along the trail, and Bryce would say, ‘yep, that’s a great rock,’ then tell me to drop it so someone else could find it and we could get going. You might have enjoyed hiking with him, Grinder. Stop looking at rocks and let’s get going,” I mime Bryce saying. Grinder stiffens, a look of hurt flashing through his brown eyes. Without a word, he turns and looks at the guys. “Grinder, wait. I didn’t mean . . .”
All three nod and go into motion.
“I’ve got Pacific,” Nova cries out, dashing westward.
“North America,” Bats says, heading the other direction.
“Get some water, Elizabeth,” Grinder tells me, heading down the road and leaving me bewildered.
Ten minutes later, they return, presenting me with pieces of sandstone, schist, and a piece of sheared granite. They lay them gently in my hands. Grinder’s piece sits between the other two, like I’m holding the San Andreas Fault in my hands. Wet tears trickle down my cheeks, and I stifle the need to sniff. They’re just rocks, but I clutch them to my chest like they’re precious. Or maybe it’s because they’re from them.
All three press in around me, sharing a group hug as the simple act of bringing me freaking rocks has brought me a bit of release from the hurt still holed up inside of me. I was with the asshole for a year and a half, and looking back, I can’t say he ever cared about my interests. These guys barely know me, but they’re supporting my career choice more than Bryce ever did. He was supposed to build me up, not tear me down. Unlike him, my guys stand there letting me release the pent up frustration I hadn’t even realized I had been carrying.
Eep! My guys? Where the hell did that come from?
I suck in a deep, sniffling breath and shimmy a little to let them know they can let go of me. “Thank you,” I tell them, wiping the tears off my cheeks. “They’re beautiful, but I already told you. I can’t take them. I can barely carry what I already have.”
Bats steps up, taking the rocks before I can drop them. “I’ve got them. And any others you want to pick up. Research trip, right?”
I smile. How can I not? These guys are just . . . I can’t put words to the emotions running through me at the moment. It’s too much.
“You can send them home when we get to the next post office. Fair enough?” Grinder asks. “I know you don’t want Bats carrying your weight.”
I nod. Why are words so damn hard right now? “Thank you,” I manage, meaning it more than the simple words convey.
Bats leads us out of the canyon. Nova walks beside me, holding my hand as long as he can before the trail is no longer wide enough. A few hours later, we arrive at a campsite on the eastern slope of Gobbler’s Knob. It’s a few miles short of Grinder’s goal of twenty miles, but he doesn’t complain. There’s a good half dozen people already there by the time we arrive, including a few horses, but there’s still plenty of room under the tall pines. I’d love to go see the beautiful creatures up close, but I’m too tired.
Nova plops down next to me, pulling me close. “You okay?” he asks.
I snuggle into him, leaning my head on his shoulder. “Yeah. I think so. It’s hard to tell when something like that is going to sneak up on you, but I needed it.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I consider it for a moment, but shake my head. “No. I’m good.” I place a gentle kiss on his cheek, letting him know how good I am, then lean into his embrace, relishing how comfortable being held by him makes me.
I glance over at Bats swinging in his hammock, then Grinder peering at his maps. Something shifted down on the fault line today. Faults and earthquakes are all about pressure and release, and there’s a little less pressure around my heart. A release I knew I needed, but didn’t know what needed to happen in order to get me there. It shook me for a minute, but surrounded by the three guys I’m with, knowing there’s likely to be more tremors ahead, I know they’ll be there to hold me up if I need it, ready to lend me their strength to stand up taller than before.
***