Page 72 of Canyon Killer
It was after ten when the last cars pulled out of the parking area. The catering crew cleaned up, the band packed its instruments, and Ian and Bethany were finally alone. They sat in two folding chairs in front of the welcome center, drinking the last of a bottle of champagne he had liberated from the caterers and admiring the lights strung across the canyon walls.
“It’s so quiet with everyone gone,” she said.
“There’s still a security guard here somewhere,” Ian said. Since the night of the fire, he had at least one guard on duty, twenty-four hours a day. No one had tried to enter the canyon illegally, but Ian wasn’t going to take chances. More sabotage to the climbing route could injure or kill a tourist. A tragedy like that would ruin Ian’s reputation—and be terrible for the town, beyond the impact it would have on an innocent family.
Bethany laced her fingers with his. “You’ve done a great job,” she said. “A lot of people would have given up.”
“I’m too stubborn to give up.” He sipped champagne, the bubbles fizzing on his tongue. “Besides, I had to make this project work so I’d have an excuse to stay here with you.”
When she didn’t answer, he turned to look at her. “Is something wrong?”
“No, I—” She cleared her throat. “I was so relieved when you said at the county commissioners’ meeting that you wanted to stay in Eagle Mountain,” she said. “Before that, I was trying so hard not to be upset about you going away. I mean, the very first day we met, you said you were only going to stay in Eagle Mountain until the via ferrata was complete. And then later, you talked about moving on to other places, to start new projects and do more climbing. Then I found those notes you made about Argentina… I knew you were going to leave and I was going to be hurt and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. I couldn’t stay away because…because I’ve fallen in love with you.”
“Oh, Bethany.” Ian set down his glass and leaned toward her. He intended to put his arms around her, maybe even pull her into his lap.
She was crying now, dashing tears from her eyes with her fingers. “I’m just being silly.”
“You’re not being silly.” He touched her under the chin, nudging her until she looked up at him. “I couldn’t stay away from you, either,” he said. “It’s why I wanted to stay. Why I’m going to stay.”
He kissed her and tried to put everything he was feeling into that kiss. He wasn’t good with words, more at home alone on a mountainside than talking to anyone, even her. But he owed it to her—to them—to try to share his feelings, no matter how scary that felt.
She pulled away. “What was that?”
“What was what?”
“I heard something.” She looked past him, searching the canyon walls. “What’s that up on that platform?” She pointed midway through the climbing route. “Is that a person?”
Ian followed her gaze and saw a shadowy figure, like someone sitting on the platform. “Are they asleep?” Bethany asked.
“Or drunk,” he said.Or dead?He pulled out his phone to call 911, then put it back. Drinking too much at a party wasn’t a crime. He’d go up there, help them down and call them a ride home.
“It’s not moving at all,” Bethany said. “I’m not sure it’s even a person. Maybe somebody put a stuffed dummy up there—as a joke.”
“Who would make a joke like that?” he asked.
“My brothers,” she said. “And half the volunteers with search and rescue. Maybe some of the local climbers.” She shrugged. “You should take it as a compliment, that they consider you someone they can joke with.”
He relaxed. A joke. That was nothing to get upset about. “I’ll climb up there and check it out.”
“You’re going to climb up there in the dark?” Her voice rose in alarm.
“It’s not that far,” he said. “And there are lights. You can go into the trailer and wait for me.”
“No way am I waiting down here by myself in the dark,” she said. “I’m going with you.”
* * *
Bethany had beenprepared for Ian to argue with her, and she had been ready to point out that she was a trained search and rescue volunteer. If he got into trouble, he would want someone like her by his side. Which was a total bluff. Ian Seabrook needed her help on the via ferrata he had designed about as much as Miss America needed Bethany’s beauty tips.
But she didn’t get to try out her argument. Ian looked her up and down—she was wearing tennis shoes with her sundress because she refused to stand around in a rocky canyon in heels, and she had bike shorts underneath the dress because even at a party, she had to be ready for a search and rescue call. “Let’s get harnesses and helmets,” he said.
She had never climbed a via ferrata. She had never climbed any significant distance. She had never climbed in the dark.
“This is going to be easy,” he said as he showed her where to clip her safety line. “I’m going to tell you where to put your hands and feet. You just do as I say. Do you trust me?”
Bethany nodded. “I do.” She trusted him more than anyone else in her life. She trusted himwithher life.
He put her in front of him so he could direct her as she climbed. The first pitch was easy, moving up a series of iron rings. Then a sideways scramble, using the hand- and footholds he directed her to. As unsettling as it was to climb in semidarkness, it helped that if she looked down, she couldn’t really see anything. She kept her eyes up and reminded herself that she was clipped onto the safety cable. She wasn’t going to fall.
