Page 8 of Forrest
Her breathing is heavy, but she doesn’t look scared anymore. Her fingers squeeze my hand.
I wasn’t sure whether she’d be able to cope with today’s activities. I guess I was testing her. We’ve done a lot of walking. But not once has she complained. In fact, she’s been racing ahead of me all day like it’s a competition and she’s deadset on winning.
But this is one competition she’s not going to win.
The rain’s really starting to come on strong. Big puddles are forming on the ground around us. The sound of thunder rumbles across the trees.
This is going to be a bad one.
I should have been more careful. It’s all my fault. I know the warning signs. I can read them a mile off. But I was distracted and I let my guard down.
“Wait!” We skid to a stop on the already muddy ground. “This isn't going to work. We’re not going to make it in time.”
Her hair's already soaking wet. Plastered against her face. She’s starting to shiver. The wind’s really strong and even though she’s wearing suitable clothing for a nice walk in the mountains, it’s not the kind of thing that will be able to hold up against a high altitude storm.
“What do you mean?” she says, brushing some hair out of her face. “Forrest? You’re really starting to scare me.”
“I’m sorry.” I squeeze her hand and take a step closer. “There’s a shortcut. But it’s a difficult path. I’m gonna have to carry you, Skye. It’s the only way.”
“Carry me?” She looks more scared of the idea of me putting my hands on her than she does of the storm. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Forrest. Can’t we just keep on running? Really, I don’t mind getting wet. It’s not the end of the world.”
“We need to find shelter as soon as possible, and this is the best way.” I put my hands on her shoulders and look down into her majestic blue eyes. “Do you trust me, Skye?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” I grin. “Good. Now, hold on tight. This is gonna be a wild ride.”
7
Skye
Forrest liftsme up like I weigh less than a pack of potato chips. He spins me around in one fluid motion until I’m on his back. My legs squeeze tight around his waist. My arms around his neck.
I can smell the musky, manly scent of his body and it’s making me wet.
I was scared he might think I'm too heavy. But he's so strong it doesn't seem to make a difference to him.
“You okay?” He looks at me over his shoulder. A long, jagged line of electricity shoots across the sky.
“I’m fine!” I yell, the wind so strong now it almost blows my words away.
He nods and then starts running.
It doesn’t take long to see what he meant about the trail being difficult. Steep inclines. Rocks. He bounds over them like he’s half man, half goat.
I hold onto him so tight, I can barely feel my hands. But after a minute or two, I relax.
Forrest asked me if I trust him, and the honest answer is yes.
Even though I only met him yesterday, I know he’s a man of his word. A protector. And that when he says he will never let anything bad happen to me, he means it.
The cabin comes into view and I let out a loud holla. Forrest’s boots splash in the water as he sprints towards it.
A mile.
Five hundred yards.
A hundred feet.
