Hannah unzipped her fleece and took it off. The temperature had warmed up as she sat behind the table filled with large jugs of water, Gatorade, and other aid for the runners.

She was volunteering at the Sagebrush 50-miler. The frontrunners had already whizzed past her little aid station, and now she and Jenny, one of the race organizers, would wait until the bulk of the racers started coming through, looking to replenish themselves.

“Thanks again for volunteering,” Jenny said. “It’s not always easy to get volunteers, especially those who know something about ultrarunning.”

“My pleasure,” Hannah said. “I’m just easing back into running after an injury, and this seemed like a good way to get involved in the community.”

“What kind of injury?”

“Stress fracture in my foot.”

“What were you training for?”

“The High Peaks 100. My first hundred. I made it about eighty miles before I had to drop out.”

Jenny grimaced. “Shit. You made it that far your first time doing High Peaks? That’s not bad.”

Hannah smiled. “I’m starting to see that now. I didn’t at the time, though. I cried like a little girl, like the world had ended.”

Jenny laughed. “First-timers. They always take themselves so seriously. No offense.”

“None taken. It’s totally true. It took a good schooling from a friend of mine to see the light, that I’d overtrained and that I’d forgotten the entire reason I run in the first place.”

Jenny nodded. “I get it. Organizing these races is my full-time job, and it’s so inspiring to watch these people push themselves beyond the limits they thought they had. For some, the challenge is physical. But for many others, it’s emotional. It’s personal. And when I see runners overtraining or bragging about their split times or trying to pass others just to feel like they’re better, I’m like, you all are missing the point.”

Hannah nodded. “That was me, the overtraining part anyway. But I’m finally starting to get it.”

“Are you going to attempt High Peaks again next year?”

Hannah sighed. “That was the plan. But I haven’t committed yet. I’m trying to focus on my recovery and doing things right. I want to make sure I’m ready for that. But deep down, yeah, I want to do it again.”

“You can start training in December, and then see how you feel. The spots won’t fill up until February or so. If it feels right, sign up.”

Before Hannah could respond, she spotted movement out of the corner of her eye. A runner approaching, covered in sweat but looking solid and bright-eyed. Hannah stood up, immediately seeing his empty hand-held bottle. “Water or Gatorade?” she said.

“Water, please.”

Hannah quickly filled his bottle for him and handed it back. “You’re looking good. Keep it up.”

“Thanks,” he said with a wink, and took off.

Soon, she and Jenny were busy keeping the bottles filled with a stream of runners passing through. Later in the day, they waited out the stragglers who wouldn’t make the time cutoff. Most were walking by that time, either injured or just out of steam. Some looked ill, until their death march led them to the medical tent, where someone recorded their DNF and ensured they got transport to their vehicles or waiting friends.

At the end of the day, Jenny told her she’d done enough, but Hannah refused to leave and instead helped Jenny empty what remained of the water jugs and load them into her van, along with the table and the other equipment.

When they were all packed up, Jenny held out her hand. “Thank you, Hannah.”

Hannah shook it. “My pleasure. Keep me on your email list. I’m happy to help out again.”

“This is it for the season, unless you want to come out to California.” She grinned. “But the fun starts again in February… in Utah. And if you decide to do High Peaks, I’ll see you there.”

“Oh, you’re working High Peaks too?”

She scoffed. “Are you kidding? High Peaks gets me front row seats to the best show in the world. I never miss it.”

Hannah smiled. “Nice. Well, tell you what. If I don’t race, I’ll volunteer.”

“Perfect. I’ll hook you up with a good spot. Top of Spruce Pass, maybe…”

“Ooh,” Hannah said, recalling that tiny aid station at over 12,000 feet. “I’ll take that one.”

Hannah said her goodbyes and began her journey back home.

What a great day. She’d wondered how she would feel, watching all those people do what she couldn’t yet do, what she’d been barred from doing for months. But she felt no envy or regret. Well, maybe a little envy. But it was the good kind of envy. She felt inspired by watching them race, taking care of them, and giving them a few words of encouragement. They were small tokens, but she knew they could help a runner so much, especially when you reached the late stages of the race and could hardly keep your head up, when even a single word of encouragement or tiny gesture was the only thing keeping you going. She remembered what that felt like.

She thought about Cain again. That day, he’d drifted in and out of her thoughts more times than she could count. How could he not? Everything about the race reminded her of him. She’d done a good job putting him out of her mind in the couple of weeks since he’d left, but doing so had proven impossible in that setting.

She hadn’t heard from him. She hadn’t expected to. Looking back, she’d known from the moment he said he was leaving that their relationship, or whatever it was, would come to an end. Cain wasn’t a pen pal kind of guy. He would need to readjust to Army life, and face any lingering pain about what happened in the past. His time with her was a respite from his real life, and it had to end sometime.

Strangely enough, she was okay with not hearing from him. Getting back to doing her thing, on her own, without the complications of men… that felt normal to her.

A part of her missed him. Her phone seemed too quiet, her house a little too empty, her life a little lonely. But she’d gotten along perfectly fine before Cain showed up in her life, and she would do the same again. Now, she would run, volunteer at races, curl up in her chair and read, and, eventually, if it felt right, become immersed in training for High Peaks again.

She hoped Cain was doing okay. He was tough and he would cope, of course. But he was stuck in some desert or on some Army base God knows where, away from what mattered most to him. He was Grizzly Adams, after all. Grizzly Adams belonged in the mountains.

But then she reminded herself that Cain chose his service, and that he probably did so for reasons she could never understand.

When Hannah got home, she jumped in the shower. Afterward, she thought about pouring a bourbon, but decided to leave the bottle in the cabinet where it belonged. Instead, she poured herself some water and sunk into her chair to read.

Hannah felt the vibration of her phone as she ran up a steep hill, dodging a few rocks and trying to catch her breath. She ignored it, knowing it was probably yet another fraudulent company hoping to nab her credit card information. Tonight was her longest run yet at ten miles, and everything felt good. Her foot was happy, her body was happy, and she was happy. She wore no heart rate monitor, she focused only on mileage rather than time or pace, and wore her GPS watch only for safety reasons.

It was beautiful out. The aspens still had a few gold leaves on them, although most had fallen to the ground, offering a soft landing on the trails as she ran. She loved running in the fall, with its bright leaves and cool temperatures and no surprise thundershowers to soak her through.

When she got back to her car, she checked her phone. The call was from a Utah number, which made her wonder about Diana, especially since the baby was due in a couple weeks. She listened to the message. It was Asher.

“Hey, Hannah. It’s Ash. Good news, baby’s here. It’s a boy. Ten fingers, ten toes. Diana’s fast asleep, so I’m taking phone duty and trying to spread the word and trying to find someone to cover me at the shop… anyway, talk to you soon.”

As Hannah listened, Asher words competed with the sound of the baby crying. Asher sounded like a crazy mixture of happy and tired, the kind of tired you felt when you were so exhausted that you were almost wired, like your body was trying desperately to stay awake.

Hannah had a sudden idea. She called him back.

“Hello?” Asher said, sounding distracted. The baby was still crying.

“Ash, it’s Hannah.”

“Hey. Did you get my message?”

“I did. Congrats. Look, how about I come out there and help with the baby?”

“You don’t have to do that. I can close the shop if I have to—”

“I don’t mind. I’ll camp and just help with the mundane stuff. Like cooking. It’ll give me something to do.”

“I know D would love to have you…”

“Then it’s done. I’ll be there tonight.”

Hannah tasted the chili bubbling on Diana and Asher’s stove. Perfect. She checked the timer on the cornbread; it was about done. She got out bowls and spoons before tiptoeing over to Diana and Asher’s bedroom door, which was open.

They’d been sacked out while she cooked, catching up on their sleep after a long journey at the hospital and then another when they got home. Little Jesse had arrived two weeks early, smack in the middle of the period in which Diana and Asher had been working like crazy to prepare, and before family could help. Diana had taken extra clients to give herself some time off when the baby came, and Asher was still facing peak season at his shop.

Last night, Hannah had driven to Red Rim and picked up dinner and some grocery items for them. After sleeping by the Colorado River and a short run that morning, she spent the day cleaning and doing laundry for them while Ash took care of business at his shop for a few hours and Diana caught up on sleep.

When she peeked into their bedroom, she saw Diana smile at her. She was awake, but Ash was still out cold, his wild hair spread across his pillow.

“Hungry?” she whispered.

Diana nodded eagerly and got up, closing the bedroom door behind her. “I’m starving, and I’m salivating at the smell of your chili. Let’s eat before the baby wakes up.”

“The cornbread is gluten-free,” Hannah added, knowing that Diana ate a GF diet to manage her endometriosis.

“Thank you, sweetie.”

They sat down and dug in, and it made Hannah happy to see Diana eat her chili and look so grateful. It reminded her of when she’d fed it to Cain on their backpacking trip, when his face showed his enjoyment and gratitude.

Hannah had never been very good at taking care of others before. It wasn’t because she didn’t care or want to. It was because she didn’t like people doting on her, and she’d assumed others must be the same way. But she’d begun to realize that sometimes people needed taking care of and wouldn’t necessarily ask for it. In fact, the ones who never asked were often the ones who needed it most.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Diana said. “I know you aren’t a baby person.”

“I wanted to come. And Jesse is adorable.”

Diana smiled. “He is, isn’t he? So, how are you? How’s Cain?”

Hannah smiled a little, knowing her time was up and she would have to face inquiry at not having told Diana or anyone about Cain’s deployment. “He’s gone.”

“Gone? Where?”

“He got redeployed.”

She made a face. “What? I thought he was out of the Army.”

“So did I. Turns out he’d been on extended leave, after some bad stuff went down overseas last year.”

Diana’s eyes softened. “Oh no.”

“Oh no what?” came a male voice.

They turned to find Asher standing there, his face sleepy and his hair pulled back again.

“Have some chili, sweetie,” Diana said. “It’s Hannah’s signature dish.”

Asher got a giant helping of chili and a heap of buttered cornbread and sat down. “Am I interrupting girl talk?”

“No,” Hannah said. “D asked me about a guy I was seeing.”

“The mountain man,” Asher said.

“Right. He’s an Army doctor and he’s been redeployed.”

“When did he leave?” Diana said.

“Three weeks ago.”

Diana picked up her cornbread.“Have you guys stayed in touch?”

Hannah shook her head.

“He didn’t want to?” Asher asked.

“I didn’t ask, but I know him. He got a little edgy right before he left. He wasn’t happy about going back and facing everything that happened. I think it’s easier for him to just not feel obligated to me or to stay in touch. To be honest, it’s easier for me, too.”

“What happened last year?” Diana asked. “Can you say?”

Hannah told them everything Cain told her about the unexpected attack, their losing some of their own, and Cain’s feeling responsible. They grimaced.

“That’s awful,” Diana said. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Things were going so well.”

Hannah shrugged. “It’s alright. It was fun while it lasted.” She smiled. “See? That’s what I get for talking about liking him last time I was here.”

But Diana only watched her, as if seeing through Hannah’s attempt at lightheartedness.

“How’d you guys leave things?” Asher said. “And what do you mean he got a little edgy?”

Diana put her hand on Asher’s. “Hannah’s kind of private about stuff like this, Ash.”

Hannah shook her head. “It’s okay. It would be nice to have a guy’s perspective, especially a guy who likes his freedom.” They all giggled at that. Hannah told them about Cain’s announcement that he was leaving in a week, her surprise and ensuing questions, and their argument. “I think he didn’t want things between us to go any further. Which is a fantastic irony, since I’ve traditionally been the one to do that to men.” She looked at Asher. “Go ahead. Tell me I’m a great girl and that he’s missing out.”

Asher shook his head, digging a spoonful of chili. “I’d bet money you’ll hear from him soon.”

Hannah shook her head. “I don’t think so. I think he wants the separation.”

“I don’t think he wants it. I think he needs it because he’s still got issues to deal with.”

The baby began to cry. Diana and Asher stood up at once, but Hannah stopped them. “I’ll get this round.”

“Are you sure?” Diana said, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll heat up the breast milk.”

Hannah went into the bedroom and picked up the tiny newborn with his thatch of dark hair, holding him to her as he squalled. She kissed his head and returned to the table to sit down. Diana handed her the bottle and Hannah fed little Jesse, cooing and smelling his fresh baby smell as he quieted down and ate his seventh meal of the day.

Diana and Asher finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, putting the giant pot of leftover chili in the fridge for the rest of the weekend. And Hannah sat there with the baby, holding his tiny little body and beholding his gleaming eyes, until he drifted back to sleep.

The following evening, Hannah reluctantly drove home, not wanting to leave her friends. Sure, they were more than capable of taking care of their own child and managing their household without her help, but Hannah couldn’t imagine trying to do all that without someone to take care of the little things. Plus, there was something about seeing Diana and Asher together, with the child both had always wanted, that filled Hannah with a sense of contentment. She didn’t quite know what to make of that, especially when she’d always eschewed anything having to do with babies.

When Hannah got home, she curled up in her chair and checked Facebook, hoping Diana posted some new pics of baby Jesse. Then she saw that she had some new emails.

One of them was from Cain.