Page 85 of Mountain Grump
“It’s…” I take in the wilderness spreading below us. “Amazing.”
His fingers slide between mine as he grips my hand in his. “Another one of your sex lines?”
“You wish.” I don’t give the comeback the proper attitude because I’m too busy looking out the window.
Silence stretches between us, the hum of the engine filling my head.
We’re flying lower than the commercial plane that brought me to Colorado did.
I don’t think we’re going as fast either.
So the mountains are closer.
More vivid.
More detailed.
It’s like a Bob Ross painting come to life.
The gray rocky slopes.
The blanket of evergreen trees.
My eyes scan it all, and I notice that all the trees seem to stop growing at about the same spot on all the mountains.
I’m sure Ethan knows why. Probably something to do with temperature or oxygen or wild chipmunks eating all the nuts. But I’m too busy looking to ask.
It’s so?—
The plane shakes, and I let out an embarrassing squeak.
Ethan flexes his fingers around mine. “Just turbulence. It’s normal around the mountains.”
I squeeze his fingers back. “Why’s that?”
“Mountain waves.” He answers in a calm tone. “Wind coming from the west moves up over the mountains and causes mayhem.”
I press my lips together and inhale through my nose, trying to slow my racing pulse. “It’s cool that you know that.”
Ethan grunts.
“What?” I focus on his response and not the new round of shaking.
“You shouldn’t let yourself be so easily impressed.”
I turn my head and gape at him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
I move my attention back out the window.
And… he’s not wrong.
Years and years of people disappointing me, for one reason or another, have left me expecting the least.
So, yeah. My bar is probably too low.
I sigh. “You’re right.”
