Page 1 of Rugged Courage

CHAPTER 1

CECE

Cece, you’re being ridiculous. You’ve made your point. Come home.”

I hold my phone away from my ear, Britney’s shrill voice piercing the tranquil mountain air. The sun dips behind the jagged peaks, and I can’t imagine being anywhere else. I take a deep breath, savoring the crisp scent of pine before bringing the phone back to my ear. It wouldn’t be the worst thing if there weren’t cell reception up here…

“I’m not being ridiculous, Brit. I’m taking some time for myself.”

“On a mountain? Alone? That’s not taking time for yourself. That’s a cry for attention.”

I roll my eyes, grateful she can’t see me. “Who exactly am I trying to get attention from out here? The bears?”

“Don’t be cute,” Britney snaps. “You know what I mean. You’re trying to prove some kind of point to Mom and Dad.”

“I’m not trying to prove anything,” I say, my frustration mounting. “I just need some space to think.”

“Think about what? How to disappoint the family next?”

Her words sting, but I push the hurt aside. “That’s not fair, Brit. Just because I want something a little different doesn’t mean I’m a disappointment.”

“What you want?” Britney’s voice is harsh and incredulous. “What’s that supposed to mean? We can have anything we want, and you know that! Why do you act like being able to have anything is a curse?”

“So why is my wanting to go camping for a couple of weeks so terrible? What do you think is going to happen to me out here?”

To her credit, Britney doesn’t say anything.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to stay calm. “Look. I appreciate everything they’ve done for us and the privilege we have. I just... I want more than what they’ve planned out for me. I want to figure everything out on my own.”

“More? What more could you possibly want, Cece? We have everything!” The exasperation in my younger sister’s voice pushes so many of my buttons. She’s more than happy to accept the life our parents have and let them stage-direct her future.

“Not everything,” I mutter.

Aside from wanting to do more intensive philanthropy than my parents, I want a man in my life. I want a partner I can rely on. But the men I meet are only interested in my family name and connections. They treat my curvy body as something they have to endure to get at my money. I’ve never met a man who sees me as an individual, much less a man who likes me for me.

“What was that?”

I sigh. “Nothing. Look, Brit, I know you don’t understand—”

“You’re right, I don’t,” she interrupts.

“I’m not turning my back on anyone,” I protest. “I’m simply taking some time for myself.”

“Why didn’t you go to a spa retreat? That’s what Mom always does.”

I laugh despite myself. “Brit, I’m doing what makes me happy. You know I’m not a carbon copy of Mom.”

“You’d rather be alone on a mountain?”

“For now, yes. At least out here, I can hear myself think.”

A long silence stretches on the other end of the line. For a moment, I think the signal has dropped out, and we’ve been disconnected.

“Brit?”

“I’m here,” she says, her voice strained. “I just... I don’t understand you sometimes, Cece.”

The admission hits me harder than I expected. “I know,” I say softly.

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