Page 51 of Last Summer

“You were desperate for the story.” He tipped back the water canister and took a swig, smiling around the rim.

“We hiked for what, five days?”

“Something like that. Next question?”

Ella wants to ask what they did the other nine days. But when he glances at his watch she remembers she’s pressed for time.

“All right. Back to your parents.”

For the next few hours they talk, delving further into his relationship with his father. When he asks, she shares stories about her childhood, surprised she feels so comfortable with him. She talks about growing up with Andrew and her time spent with Grace. She doesn’t know if she’s repeating what she told him last summer, but Nathan doesn’t say anything. He listens intently. He empathizes. Ella finds the more that she talks, the more she wants to share.

At some point, Nathan unwraps sandwiches, roast beef and mustard on rye, and they eat lunch. Around two o’clock, he looks at the sky and suggests they head back.

He shoves off the rock and starts packing up their trash. Sensing movement, Fred and Bing yawn and stretch, downward dog–style. Tails swishing, they approach Nathan. He scratches their muzzles and hooks on their dog packs. Recharged and ready to hit the trail, the dogs pace.

Pushing off the granite surface, Ella stands and groans. Her muscles follow suit, complaining.

Her thighs burn. Lunging forward, she warms up her muscles for the return hike.

Nathan comments on her stretching. “How are the legs?”

“Stiff. I think I was a little overconfident when I agreed to this.”

“You were hungry for the story,” he teases.

“Always.”

Arms raised, she leans right, stretching her side. Scarred ligaments in her lower abs spasm. She hisses through the discomfort.

Nathan looks at her sharply. “You’re hurt.”

“Just sore. Do you have aspirin in that treasure bag?” She nods at the daypack. He continues to stare at her, his gaze more inward than focused on her.

“Nathan?”

He blinks, rubs his eyes, and drags a hand down his face. “Aspirin. Yeah, I do.” He drops the pack on the ground and rummages through the pockets.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Nathan roughly unzips another pocket and pulls out the medical kit, his motions abrupt. He seems angry, and Ella thinks he probably regrets showing her his spot. The location is secluded, personal to him. He spends a great deal of time reflecting here. Next time he visits, he’ll think of her and her complaints about her aches and pains.

Popping the aspirin cap, he drops two tablets in her hand.

“You seem upset. Did I do something?” she asks.

He doesn’t answer, only puts away the medical kit.

“The hike wasn’t my idea.” She downs the aspirin with water.

“Drink more,” he orders. “You need to stay hydrated.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.” She salutes him with the water bottle and drinks until Nathan seems satisfied. Still kneeling, he looks at the ridge across the valley. He doesn’t move, even when Ella finishes the water and holds out the container for him to put it away.

“Knock, knock.” She mock knocks the air in his line of vision. “Anyone home?”

He hangs his head and swears, scratches at the scruff on his jaw. He then zips and shoulders the pack, standing. He looks down at her with remorse. “I owe you an apology.”

She frowns. “For what?”

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