Page 19 of Hiding in Montana

His head snapped in her direction at the icy tone in her voice. “Man or woman, it can be dangerous. Bears, mountain lions, and a fall can all be catastrophic. I wouldn’t go hiking alone.”

“I’m sure there are lots of people who do. Maybe she had a good reason for being alone.”

He kept his eyes locked on her. “Hey, I really wasn’t being a macho jerk. I was genuinely concerned for her.”

“Did you stay with her until help came?” These were questions she had wanted to know. The doctor had said she was brought in by medevac, but there were things she had wondered.

“Two of the guys fashioned a gurney of sorts and we got her to the top of the trail. By that time emergency people were there and they got her down to where a helicopter was waiting to take her to the hospital.”

“It was risky moving her.”

“One of the guys is a paramedic, and he checked her over before we attempted to move her. Getting her out of the ravine saved time. I’d like to think we helped to save her life.”

His face had softened, and a faraway look settled on his face.

Her voice was soft. “Thank you.”

His brow furrowed as he looked back at her and shifted on the blanket closer to her. “For what?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she lifted her face to look him square in the eye. Unflinching, she said, “Thank you for saving my life three years ago.”

His mouth gaped open. She could tell he was confused and stunned at the same time. “What are you talking about?”

“The woman at the bottom of the rockslide was me, and if you hadn’t found me, I wouldn’t be here today.” This time, her voice broke. The raw emotions bubbled up and tears formed in her eyes. Wiping them away, she jumped up and walked to the edge of the water. This was not the way she planned to tell Clint her true identity.

She could feel him standing behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, and keeping a small space between them, she leaned back into his body and finally let the tears flow. He didn’t speak; he just waited as her body rose and fell. After a while, she said, “I should have told you when we first met. I’m sorry.”

“Stop. You have nothing to apologize for. You weren’t under any obligation to tell me anything until you were ready.”

Polly took a step away from him and turned. “I’d like to tell you the rest of the story. If you’d like to hear it.”

He held out his hand. “Let’s sit. You can tell me whatever and how much or how little, judgment free, about why you were alone.”

Too keyed up to sit, she squeezed his hand. “Can we walk for a bit?”

“Whatever you want.”

His voice was gentle, and it wrapped around her heart like a tender hug, giving her the courage to speak. “I came to Montana to try and disappear from my previous life. My ex-husband is not the man I thought he was when we got married. He was and still is into some unsavory stuff. I was being pressured to lie for him or he was going to jail. While we were going through an ugly divorce, my ex kept delaying the final signatures. He kept saying it was complicated and he needed me because a wife can’t testify against her husband. For a while I was afraid for my life.”

Polly expected Clint to ask what she meant, and she paused, waiting, but he kept his word and waited for her to share what she wanted.

“The people he was laundering money for aren’t the most forgiving sort. I knew little at the time of what was going on, but eventually all the pieces fell into place. All I wanted was the divorce. I didn’t care about possessions. It was time for me to put distance between us, and surprisingly he agreed to set me up in Nevada in a rental.” She stopped walking and said, “Did you know it’s not easy to get a divorce in Las Vegas? You have to be a resident for six weeks with the intent to live there permanently.”

“I guess getting married there is much easier.”

With a snort, she said, “Yeah, you can get stinking drunk and some yahoo will still perform a ceremony. Anyway, I’m getting off topic. I rented a house, got a job at a home improvement store, and planned on staying, but the best-laid plans have a way of going awry. I was able to get the divorce. Those people I mentioned that ex-hubby was in cahoots with, well, they found out where I was and decided I needed to be encouraged to keep my mouth shut; my ex warned me they were coming. Not that I had any intention of saying a word. Instead, I left Nevada and spent my time being a nomad.”

“You mean homeless?”

She lifted a shoulder. “I prefer nomad.”

“How did you end up on that trail?”

She turned them back in the direction they had come. “I was camping out, living off the grid, not leaving a traceable footprint. Unfortunately, I don’t remember. Occasionally, I get snippets of memory, but I remember virtually nothing after sitting by the fire at breakfast. The only logical explanation is I must have been hiking down the trail and stepped on the edge of the rock and it gave way. The next part, you know.”

He steered her toward a log under the shade of a river birch tree. “After you got to the hospital, I just couldn’t bear the thought of abandoning you. You were all alone with life-threatening injuries. Did you know I came to see you a few times?”

She nodded and looked at the ground. What would he think if she knew it was his stories of River Junction that drew her to the small town? Did it matter? Honesty was the only way they could be friends, or maybe more.

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