Lily runs outside and shouts, “I’m ready!”
I’m only a few steps behind her. As soon as I leave the cabin, I’m greeted by the smell of bacon and fresh coffee.
“Are you going to wear your pajamas, or would you like to get dressed first?” Digger asks her from his position in front of the camp stove.
“I suppose I could get dressed.” My daughter runs past me and goes back into the cabin. The boys are already sidling up to various trees to take care of their morning business.
Digger offers me a smile that makes my stomach flutter a bit. He hands me a plate full of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. “Good morning.”
“Morning. You must have been up at the crack of dawn to make all this,” I tell him. “Well, metaphorically speaking, since the sun doesn’t set around here.”
“I figured I’d better make sure we’re all well-fed. Nothing makes kids hate hiking more than being hungry.”
I take a seat on a log, and as soon as I start eating, Digger walks over and places a mug of coffee on the ground next to me. With my mouth full of fluffy, sweet pancakes, I say, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Maybe I can help make lunch to take with us,” I say, picking up my coffee and having a sip.
“Already packed. Protein bars, apples, rice cakes and peanut butter.” He opens his backpack for me to look inside.
“I’ll pack the toilet paper,” I tell him.
“Why?”
“Why do you think?”
“There are plenty of leaves on the trail if you need them.”
Eww. “And yet, I’m going to bring toilet paper anyway.” The kids and I make short work of breakfast, then we stick the dishes in the tub, and I quickly gather my own bunch of supplies. I throw in my traveling first aid kit, a roll of toilet paper, six chocolate bars, and a ball of yarn—I have this vision of us needing to fashion a rope bridge.
As Lily and I walk out of the cabin, I see Digger handing out small packages to the boys. He walks over to us and does the same. “Life straws. This way we won’t have to carry a lot of water and can just drink from the falls.”
“I think I’ll carry my water.”
“The life straws filter out any impurities,” he tells me. “But you don’t even need them. The water up here is some of the purest on the planet.”
I take the straws out of his hands and put them in my backpack without comment. I can’t tell if he’s purposefully trying to make me feel like a prima donna or not, but either way, he’s succeeding and that is not a picture I like to have of myself.
It turns out the hike is positively breathtaking. We take a path through a field of tall grasses, then make our way through a forest of pines, birch, and poplars, which successfully provide cool air and shade as we walk along. The kids veer off the path more than they’re on it, jumping on fallen logs and climbing trees as we go.
Digger keeps a careful eye on them, but he stays at my side. Something about this feels so easy, so right. I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not with him, and I know I don’t have to worry about impressing him. I can just be me, which is a feeling I’m not used to. In Hollywood, you always have to pretend to be something you aren’t.
“You’re quiet,” he says.
“I was just thinking how nice it is to be here. To be around you, actually.” I glance up at his eyes and notice for the first time how green they are.
“Really?” he asks, looking surprised.
Nodding, I say, “I spend most of my life trying to be the perfect mom, the perfect wife, the perfectly agreeable actress on set. I live in a state of fear that I’ll say the wrong thing and offend someone, and it’ll end up in some gossip column. But with you, I don’t have to do that.”
He stares down at me, the hard features of his face softening. “You’re safe with me, Harper.”
“I know.” I don’t tell him how badly I need to be with someone who doesn’t want something from me. He already hates the world I come from. “Digger McKenzie, you are a breath of fresh air.”
His face flushes slightly as he lets out a laugh. “That’s one thing I’ve never been called before.”
“Well, it’s true. You’re honest. Sometimes a little too honest, but I appreciate that about you. Most people just tell me what they think I want to hear.”