Page 69 of Red Mountain Burning
“Oh, just a little of this and that,” he replied.
Their bikes were moving at the same pace, only a few feet from each other.
“I certainly don’t want to be a nag,” she said, “but if we are to spend time together, we need to spend time together. I not only want your body on the bike next to me, I want your mind and your heart too.”
“I know, I know. I’m trying, Joan. This has just been one hell of a year. I was thinking about the wall again. Something has to be done, or I’m not going to make it to another vintage.”
A car came up behind them, so they broke away for a moment. Once they’d realigned, he said, “You would think I’d get a break from time to time. I just feel so tired.”
“Thisisyour break. Look around you.” With that, she sped up and raced ahead.
“If it were only so easy.” He pedaled as hard as he could and caught up with her. “Don’t give up on me, Joan. I know I’m a pain in the arse, but don’t give up on me.”
“I’m not giving up on you.”
As they reached the back side of Red Mountain, Otis’s mind wandered again. He thought about climate change and how the grapes might be affected. He wondered if any varieties could be planted on the dark side of Red Mountain, which only enjoyed the morning sun.
His mind was all over the place when a bump jarred him, and he realized he’d run off the road. Another bump knocked him off balance, and his tire jerked right, throwing him toward the ground. His shoulder hit first, and he winced as something sharp stabbed his upper thigh. Rolling several times, he tumbled to a stop in a ditch.
Joan jumped off her bike and rushed to him. “Are you all right?”
Otis sat up, wincing in pain as he reached for a bad scrape on his leg. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. At least, I think so.”
“What in the world happened?” Joan asked, negotiating the slope of the ditch.
Otis was assessing the damage. The stab he’d felt hadn’t punctured the skin, but he was bleeding from his arms and legs. “Just thinking too much. But I’m okay. Nothing’s broken. Holy hell, I’m having a day.”
Joan lowered to him. “You’re torturing yourself. No one else is doing this to you. It’s all in between your ears.”
“Not all of us are cruising through life on a glider.” He could taste the venom on his tongue but didn’t give a damn. “Some of us haverealissues to deal with.”
He hadn’t seen her angry in a long time, but she flashed a pair of terribly angry eyes at him as she rose and stood over him. “I’ll see you back home.”
“What about my bike?” he asked her as she climbed out of the ditch and left him. “I don’t even know if it works.”
“I’m not sure I care,” she spat back. “Maybe you can overthink yourself back.”
As he pressed up to a stand, he watched her pedal away. The fear of losing her settled uneasily in his stomach and chest.
