Chapter Thirty-Six
Rory
We have to go over Bla Bheinn… I want to do it…
Somehow, I’d said all those words, and somehow, I’d said them without my voice shaking and without puking. Last night, I’d said that I would climb it one day soon—and I’d meant it—but I figured it would be with Tommy, after days of psyching myself up for it.
Could I really do it now? With Amelia, no less, without freaking the fuck out? Did I have any right to subject her to that? She would understand if I changed my mind.
I stared up at Bla Bheinn, outlined perfectly against the cloudless blue sky just about two miles away. Then I looked down into Amelia’s warm brown eyes, full of so much emotion: trust, worry—for me?—and something that I couldn’t so easily identify, but it made my heart jump to see it.
It was the same look I’d seen in her eyes this morning when she woke up.
If that expression meant she felt for me even a fraction of what I felt for her, then I could do this. I would do this. I’d get us over that fucking mountain and down the other side, and maybe I’d finally be able to stop dwelling on the past and start looking toward my future.
“We have to backtrack to Camasunary,” I said. “Carefully, now.” I did not need a repeat of that moment when the cliff had crumbled beneath my foot. In the split second between when my foot slipped and when I caught the edge and knew I’d be able to get back up, all I could think about was that if I fell, Amelia would be out there, alone. And while not helpless, she’d be at a dangerous disadvantage, since the emergency phone was in my pack. No, hiking over Bla Bheinn was preferable to worrying that one of us might go over that cliff.
We slowly made our way back along the cliff and up the shore. Where the path turned left toward the bothy, we turned right. The path curved left, and we had to ford a few streams, but we were able to cross on stones and stay dry.
And then ahead of us loomed the steep climb up the south face of Bla Bheinn. “Let’s take a quick break before we start. Do you have any granola bars left?”
“I think so,” Amelia said. She rummaged into her pack and pulled out one that looked a little squished, but still edible.
“Good—eat that, and have some water. And I want you to remember to drink as we ascend.”
“I will.” She looked nervous—though not nearly as nervous as I felt. But the sky was clear all around, and the path itself was actually pretty straightforward until you got near the top.
“Is it all right if I look in your pack?” I asked.
She cocked her head to the side. “Um, sure. Go for it.”
I rummaged through her pack, pulling out her toiletry bag, a well-read book, which I turned over with interest. “Outlander? Och, were you hopin’ ye’d find braw Jamie Fraser out here, lass?” I asked, purposely exaggerating my Scots, loving the way she sighed as I did so.
Her eyebrows shot up. “You’ve read it?”
“Aye. After the umpteenth woman on one of my treks asked where the ‘standing stones from Outlander’ were, with a hopeful look in her eyes, I finally read it to see what the fuss was about.”
She tipped down her sunglasses, her eyes slowly roving over me. It might as well have been her hands for the way my whole body came to attention. Her lips parted slightly, and a hot bolt of lust ran through me. Christ, what the hell was she thinking about?
“Amelia?” I said through clenched teeth.
She jolted, her eyes snapping up to mine. A pink flush stained her cheeks. “Um, I’m sorry, did you say something?”
I stared at her, trying to get my body under control. “No, but I’d give nearly anything to know what was in your head just then.”
She smiled. “Maybe I’ll tell you later. Did you like it?”
Hell yes. “The look in your eyes, as if I was lying naked before you and your hands were sliding over my body? Yeah, I liked it.”
“I meant the book! Did you like Outlander?”
We were still talking about the damn book? “I liked it well enough. I got up to the third one, and haven’t had a chance to get back to them. So, were you? Hoping to find Jamie Fraser?”
“Maybe. But I found something else instead.”
“Oh, what’s that?”
“A real-life braw and handsome red-haired Scotsman.”
“And how does he compare to Mr. Fraser?”
“It’s hard to say…”
There was no more talking for a few minutes as I showed her some of the advantages of a real-life Scotsman. “I’ll ask again,” I said when I drew back, “how does your real-life Scot compare to Jamie?”
“Pretty well,” she said breathlessly. “But I think I’d need to see him in a kilt to be certain.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
I continued my inventory of her pack, removing a small stack of tightly folded clothes and some other stuff, and jamming it all into my pack with the book and her toiletry bag.
“What are you doing?”
“Transferring some of your things to my pack to lighten yours.”
“I can handle it, Rory—I’ve been handling it all week.”
“Aye, I know you can. But I don’t want you to, not for this climb. So don’t argue,” I added with a smile that probably looked like a grimace. She didn’t argue, which meant she was worried. I squeezed her thigh. “It’ll be okay. Like I said, let’s see how it goes for the first part of the climb. If you’re in pain, we’ll scrap it and go back to Sligachan and figure out something else. No heroics, okay?”
“Okay.”
Five minutes later, after I checked the bandage around her knee, we were on our way. The trail was steep, covering over four hundred meters of ascent in the first mile. We went slowly, with Amelia leaning on her trekking poles and me scouting ahead for obstacles and then doubling back to walk at her side.
“Let’s take a break here,” I said after the first fifty meters or so. She sank onto a boulder and took a drink of water. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay, actually,” she said. “It’s strenuous, and I know I’m moving slowly, but my knee is doing okay so far.”
“Are you good to keep going?”
“I am if you are.” She peered at me over her sunglasses. “How are you doing?”
“I’m okay.” And I was. It was a beautiful day, and the ascent was going okay. Maybe this would be all right.
When I did this all those years ago, I was so focused on getting up to the top and proving to my father that I could do it, that I didn’t even look up. I was just focused on the ground beneath my feet.
Now, wandering ahead to check out the trail and then going slowly with Amelia, I was able to actually see the beauty of the scenery around me: the craggy rocks, the green grass, the view behind us to the blue waters of Loch Scavaig.
We gained the ridge that would take us most of the way to the top, and we continued to stop every fifty meters or so for a short break and a sip of water. Neither of us spoke much, other than me asking Amelia if she was okay, and Amelia asking if I was okay.
The trail got steeper, and I knew we were within about two hundred meters of the false summit. That was where things would get difficult, because we’d have to scramble down a rocky path before ascending again to the true summit.
Clouds had started to roll in from the west, and the wind had increased. We needed to pick up the pace. No more breaks. I backtracked a few meters and took Amelia by the arm.
“What are you doing? I’m fine!”
“I know you are, and you’re doing great. But we need to pick up the pace.” I tried to keep my tone calm, but I guess I did a shit job of it, because she glanced to the west. Her eyes grew wide and she let me support her as we hurried up the ridge.
“We’re almost at the top!” Amelia exclaimed a few tough minutes later. “Look—we just have to get over that last bit!”
“That’s not the true summit.”
“What? Ohhh, I remember you saying that there was a false summit.”
“Yeah. We’re at 926 meters now. The actual summit is 928 meters—a little over three thousand feet—and there’s a smallish gully between them. Let me have your poles. It’ll be easier for you to scramble down without them.”
She handed them over, and I flipped open the locks so I could compress them to their shortest length, then attached them to the back of her pack. “Okay, you’re going to go down this section on your butt. Just sit on the rock, reach down with your left foot, and scoot down to the next rock, and so on. But always lead with your left foot.”
I focused all my attention on helping Amelia negotiate the scramble down the gully. We reached the bottom without incident. And then I looked up at the path to the true summit. The way was clear, but the wisps of mist we’d seen below us earlier were now all around us.
My heart was pounding and my breath came in gasps. Even though we really had no time to waste, I was grateful that Amelia had stopped to take a quick photo. I needed a minute.
I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing. I can do this. I’m a Mountain Leader with years of experience. I’ve done the Skye Trail countless times, in all kinds of conditions. I’ve climbed Munros all over Scotland. This is just one more. I know what I’m doing.
Hands came down on my shoulders. I opened my eyes to see Amelia’s lovely face before me, her eyes like twin pools of melted chocolate. There was no concern there, no fear that I’d fuck up.
“You can do this, Rory. ‘No fear,’ right? That’s your clan motto?”
“Sans Peur. You remembered.”
“I told you, I remember everything you say. By the way, and this may not be the right time to say this, but while I like hearing you speak French, the Gaelic is really what does it for me.”
I smiled. “When we get through this, I’ll speak Gaelic to you all night, though it’ll mostly be the names of mountains and a few curse words.”
“Maybe tomorrow. I don’t intend for there to be much talking tonight,” she said, looking at me from under her eyelashes, her voice full of promise.
My smile got bigger. “Well, we’d best get to it, then,” I said.
She took my hand. “Together. For Connor. And for you.”
A few minutes later, hand in hand, we stepped on to the summit of Bla Bheinn.
I’d done it—I’d gotten us to the top without incident.
All of the emotion I’d been suppressing for the last seven years crashed over me. My vision blurred, and I sank to my knees, my legs as shaky as a wee lamb’s. I covered my face with my hands, my breath coming in harsh gasps.
Amelia’s arms came around me, her lips grazing my forehead. “You did it, Rory,” she said.
I did it. I pulled her close and kissed her until she melted against me and my body was no longer trembling from relief, but something else entirely.
I kissed her one last time and then gently pulled back. “Go take your photos for Carrie.” There was something I needed to do.
“On it,” she said with a grin, and carefully stood, peeled off her pack, and pulled out her phone. Wiping my eyes, I got to my feet and shed my own pack, then searched the ground, picking up a few stones.
“Oh my God, Rory, it’s incredible!” She gaped at the spectacular views of the Cuillins and Loch Scavaig, clearly visible even with the thickening clouds. She slowly circled in place, taking a video of the view all around.
No, she was incredible. I set the stones on the ground and took out my phone. “Amelia,” I called.
She turned, a huge smile on her face. I snapped a photo, then moved to her side. I put my arm around her, tipped my head to hers, and snapped a selfie, then took one with her phone. I wanted to be able to look back on this moment.
I scooped up the stones, then knelt beside a boulder that sat right near the edge where we’d just come up.
“Just hang in there.” The mist suddenly dissipated, and I saw his face. He smiled and took a step, his gaze holding mine. “There you are.” Another step. And then…
I touched the weathered surface of the boulder, which had probably sat there for tens of thousands of years, which a terrified fifteen-year-old lad had desperately clung to, watching in horror as his brother had died. I closed my eyes, picturing Connor’s peaceful face that could almost have been asleep except for the small trickle of blood and the gray pallor to his skin, and a shudder ran through me. Then the vision changed to his last smile, and all the irreverent grins before it. That’s how I wanted to remember him—how I chose to remember him.
“I miss you, Connor. So fucking much.”
I piled the few stones I’d gathered into a small stack on the flattish top of the boulder. Then I reached into the zipper pocket of my cargo shorts.
Amelia came to stand beside me. “Is that…Rory, is that the stone Connor pulled from the loch when you were kids? Your skipping stone?” She stared at the flat, round stone I’d taken from my pocket.
“It is.”
“You’ve carried it around with you all this time?”
“It…it’s kept him close to me, you know? Like he was watching over me. But now I want to give it back to him.”
I touched my lips to the purply-gray stone and carefully set it on top of the pile. “I’m so sorry, Connor. Sorry that I came up here by myself that day, and that you had to come up after me because I was an idiot. And I’m sorry that I haven’t been back to see you in all this time. I’ve tried to honor you by doing what you loved—what I now love.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “It’s been really hard without you.”
I glanced at Amelia through a veil of tears, reaching out my hand. She took it, blinking back tears of her own. I looked back at the cairn. “But…I think I’ll be okay now. And I’ll be back to see you again soon, I promise.”
The silvery vein in the stone suddenly began to glow with a strange light. A chill ran down my spine, and I heard Amelia gasp. What the—?
I looked up. A beam of sunlight had filtered down through the slate-blue clouds, hitting the vein in just the perfect place for the stone to shine. Almost as if Connor was there. And maybe he was. “I love you, too, brother,” I whispered. “Goodbye.”
Just then the light in the stone winked out. It took me a moment to realize that it wasn’t Connor saying goodbye.
It was the mist, closing in around us.
I couldn’t see anything but Amelia, who clutched my hand in a death grip. I couldn’t see the path we’d taken up to the summit, or the path we needed to take down the other side.
And I couldn’t see the edge.
Oh God, it’s happening again.
It was exactly like my nightmare, that feeling of being smothered by the mist, completely disoriented and unable to move, for fear of tumbling off the side.
“Rory?” whispered Amelia, her voice shaky, “what are we going to do?”
“I don’t—” I started to say I don’t know, but then I heard Connor’s voice in my head, as clearly as if he was standing in front of me.
You don’t know? You’re not that inexperienced, scared, bullied lad anymore. You’re a goddamn Mountain Leader. You’ve guided groups through worse weather than this many times, and you didn’t suddenly forget what the fuck you’re doing just because this is Bla Bheinn. You know what to do.
“Rory?”
Your lass is counting on you to help her finish this trek. Now do what you need to do to get you both the hell off that rock!