Chapter Eight
Sam said as little as possible as he drove the Jeep, possibly recklessly, down the curving, rocky dirt road to the paved road that would lead them to the river and Mile High’s kayaking center.
This was wrong and irresponsible and he should have left her back at his cabin, but the fury and pain and confusion rioting around in his gut overrode what he should do.
Hayley wanted to push? Well, she could try, and she could come along for the ride.
Which was probably zero degrees fair, but Sam couldn’t bring himself to stop. To think. Because if he did, he would feel, and he didn’t have any more reserves left to feel today. He was at his limit.
He needed the water, the rushing freedom of it. He needed the open sky and the clear air that could cut through all the foggy bullshit in his head. He needed to not talk. He needed to do.
Since she refused to leave, she could do right along with him.
He parked the Jeep at the entrance to the rocky shore. Normally there would be a lot more training and discussion of how this worked, but he didn’t want Hayley to participate. She could sit in the back and go along for the ride.
He wasn’t even sure of the level of the water today, and that was dangerous. He should stop. He should think. He hadn’t been this out of control since . . .
He hopped out of the Jeep and started storming across the riverbank. He couldn’t stop and think about the last time.
He got to the shed that held the kayaks, pulling his keys out of his pocket. In complete silence he unlocked the shed and pulled out all the equipment they would need. He didn’t bother to look to see if Hayley had gotten out of the vehicle, or if she was standing next to him, or what she was doing.
He closed up the shed to find Hayley standing next to the pile of equipment.
“Here. Put this on.” He handed her a life vest and a helmet. Without a word of censure or disagreement, Hayley did as she was told. She put on the equipment, and then so did he.
He dragged the kayak to the water. They hadn’t had rain in a few days, so it shouldn’t be too challenging. He pulled the kayak into the water, Hayley at his heels.
“You’re going to be in the back. I’m going to give you a paddle, but don’t use it unless I expressly tell you to. Got it?”
“Okay.”
Something about the way she was agreeing with him now, easily acquiescing when she’d pushed and prodded earlier, made him angrier than he already was.
He got the kayak into the water and then paddled them as hard and fast as he could into the rapids. He breathed in the cool, fresh Rocky Mountain air, tried to let the frigid spray of water cool his temper as the kayak dipped and turned.
The water was low enough he could easily get through half the course that he usually took people on. It would be a bit of a long walk back with the boat, but he needed it. He needed to beat his body into submission.
He needed a hell of a lot of things.
He paddled and paddled until his arms screamed from the effort. He steered through the rocks and the rapids easily, flawlessly. It almost made him angrier that nothing was a challenge. That it was going perfectly. Aside from the energy he was expending, everything was fucking easy.
He was tired of being so damn angry and not being able to defuse it, even outside, working his muscles raw.
He thought he’d had an iron control on all the emotions that had nearly eaten him alive in the aftermath of Abby’s death, but it was clawing its way back. No matter how hard he took each turn or how narrowly he missed each rock, nothing that usually calmed him was offering any solace.
He reached a break in the rapids, a calm little pool. He wanted to keep going. Going and going until there was nowhere else to go, but with Hayley in the back he didn’t have that option. He had to stop.
He paddled them to shore. Hayley got out and helped him pull the kayak onto the grassy bank. She was as breathless as he was, even without having done any of the paddling, he assumed because she’d likely been holding on for dear life.
Sam’s lungs were nearly at capacity, and with all the other crap whirling around in his chest taking up too much room, it was hard to get a full breath. So he took a seat on the bank, and then he just flopped onto his back. The green grass was warm and soft at his back, and he looked up at the vast blue sky and tried to breathe.
He felt Hayley sit down next to him. She was like the sun shining down on them, something warm and bright. He didn’t know how to take that brightness and warmth and allow it access to those dark recesses inside his soul.
“Did that help?” Hayley asked, having found her even breathing a lot quicker than he had.
He glanced over at her. She was staring earnestly at him, and there was something in the gold of her eyes he couldn’t shake. Something about this timid girl sitting next to him made him not want to fight or yell or be mad. There was something about her that made him want to lay something at her feet.
She’d put her hand over his hand and told him to let it out, and to let it go. He didn’t have the slightest clue how to do that. Not after nearly seven years of learning to lock it all down.
“It usually does.” He glanced back up at the sky and traced the path of a puffy white cloud drifting in front of the craggy peaks opposite them. “I’m not sure what will anymore.”
“Maybe instead of trying to fight the problem or pretend it isn’t there, you should face the problem. Whatever it is.”
Maybe she had a point, but that didn’t mean he was going to vomit his problems in her direction.
“And if you need someone to talk to . . .” She trailed off, made an odd, awkward gesture with her arm. “It’s not like I can go anywhere.”
“I’m supposed to talk to you? About my problems?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“I don’t know you.” And more, he was a little too intrigued at the way the exercise jacket stretched over her breasts when she shrugged.
One point in his anger’s favor, it kept him from dwelling too much on his body’s uncomfortable reaction to Hayley.
“Exactly. There’s something freeing about not knowing. It makes it all feel like such a fresh start.” She took a deep audible breath, and let it out. “I know you said you don’t think you can change. I’m starting to think if you want to . . . that’s all it takes. I thought I wanted to change for so long, but nothing really ever changed until I came here. When I did something brave and out of character for me. So maybe we have to do something. Even if it feels impossible. Or like it’s not us or it feels wrong. I don’t know.”
“I’m supposed to listen to some girl who, of her own admission, doesn’t even know what she’s talking about?”
“No, you’re supposed to confide in some girl who doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Because you’re a big, burly, grumpy man who doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about.” She smiled sweetly at the end of it, a complete antithesis to the acidity in her tone.
Something about her words, the sharp note, the smile, the way she was offering something to him—a stranger. It was like a little ray of sunshine managed to poke through the dark. Brief and small, but a poke.
“Touché,” he murmured, surprised to find himself feeling like smiling.
* * *
Sam didn’t say anything for a long while, but Hayley found herself content to sit on the grassy riverbank and soak in the bright afternoon sun. She’d burn soon if she didn’t cover up, but it felt good to drink in the warmth on this gorgeous summer day, warmer than it was up at the altitude of Sam’s cabin.
She thought maybe, maybe, something in Sam had softened a little. Not just because he’d taken them on a heart-pounding ride down rapids that had had her squeezing her eyes shut more than once.
No, she thought at least a little of that softening stemmed from her saying he could talk to her, even if he didn’t. The offer had mattered. Her actions had mattered.
She was feeling darn near euphoric.
“Have you ever lost someone close to you?” Sam asked, so quiet she thought maybe she was imagining it.
She decided to answer anyway. “No. Not really.”
When he looked at her with a furrowed brow, she shrugged. “I knew my father wasn’t around, but I’m not sure that’s losing someone. I didn’t know my . . . half brothers existed. My mother’s family disowned her, and everyone in my stepfather’s family who I’m close to is very much living.”
His gaze turned back to the rushing river in front of them. The water pooled here in something like a pond, far more relaxing than the ride down the river.
“Was that not the answer you were looking for?” she prodded.
He sighed. “I’m not sure what answer I was looking for. Magical validation maybe. An answer to dealing with the universe being a piece of shit.”
“It’s hard to believe that, sitting here.”
“Don’t let all that legend crap go to your head. Those first settlers might have improbably survived a winter, but you can’t tell me they were happy doing it.”
“Does it matter whether you’re happy doing it, if you survive? If you build a town and thrive?”
Sam snorted. “Gracely’s really thriving these days.”
“It’s not dead yet,” she offered, refusing to give up on Gracely’s promise. Not dead yet, the little place that had won her heart. Maybe, just maybe, she could have something to do with making sure it healed.
She rolled her eyes at herself. A silly thought, all in all, but she kind of liked the possibility of working toward the reality of a silly thought.
Which brought her back to the gruff enigma of a man sitting next to her, a man she’d known all of three days and felt an odd affinity for.
“Who did you lose, Sam?” she asked gently, hardly surprised when he stiffened and scowled.
After another few rustling minutes of silence, Sam started to get to his feet. Hayley thought he wouldn’t say anything.
But Sam was full of surprises.
“My sister died. Lilly reminds me of her, which is certainly no excuse, but it’s why I’ve been struggling to be . . . polite. Now, we better get our asses in gear because it’s going to take awhile to hike the kayak back to the shed.”
“Sam—”
“Less talking, more walking. You’re going to be starving by the time we get back.” He shed the kayaking gear he’d worn and started attaching it to the kayak. Hayley took one last glance at the peaceful area of river, one last deep breath of summer-warmed air, then got to her feet.
She’d already pulled off her helmet, so she handed it to him, then shrugged out of the life vest and handed it to him as well. Once he hooked all the gear to the kayak, he lifted his shirt, using the bottom to wipe the sweat off his forehead, and Hayley . . . Well, she might have made a noise.
Sam had abs. Very nice . . . defined . . . abs. With a little trail of dark hair down the middle that disappeared into his pants and oh Lord Almighty.
“What?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed, still holding the shirt at chest level.
“Nothing,” she squeaked. An actual, high-pitched, not totally formed squeak. The only thing that kept her from stumbling was the fact she wasn’t trying to move her body. If she’d been walking? She’d probably have broken a limb.
It was like a movie, only this was real life. She was pretty sure this was real life. Far more sure when Sam grunted and finally dropped the shirt, hefting the kayak above his head as though it were nothing.
Which only drew her attention from abs, to arms. Muscular, flexing-under-the-weight-of-a-kayak arms. He was probably strong enough to lift her up like that. Hayley barely swallowed down what she was sure would have been a hysterical giggle.
This grumpy bear of a man had a seriously hot body, which was not something that usually made her all squeaky and giggly.
Mainly because she’d never really spent much time in the close company of hot-bodied men, but she certainly understood how a girl’s brain might turn to absolute mush if the hot body also had a charming personality.
Lucky for her, Sam wasn’t charming in the least. Just wounded and grumpy. Which was somehow also attractive to her, because apparently she was a little warped.
“Are you coming?” Sam demanded, already hiking along a rocky dirt path that followed the curving ribbon of the river.
Hayley scrambled after him, her cheeks heating. She tried to convince herself it was the sun, and not because her eyes had drifted to his butt.
Had she ever checked out a guy’s butt? Not in broad daylight, that was for sure. She’d been on dates, she’d had a long-term, semi-serious boyfriend in college. She didn’t remember butt-ogling any of them. But she couldn’t help but watch the way Sam’s sturdy hiking pants shifted over the curves.
Maybe she was suffering some kind of heatstroke. That would make a lot of sense.
Eventually, walking in the warmth of a summer afternoon helped ease some of her jittery whatever that thing coiled deep in her belly was. She was a little afraid it was lust.
Which made her stomach jump all over again and her eyes drift to Sam’s shoulders, which held the weight of the kayak easily even though they’d been walking for a while now.
“Can I help?” Hayley forced herself to ask. Maybe if she too could shoulder the burden she could stop analyzing every masculine aspect of the man who was ostensibly her boss.
Sam stopped and rested the kayak next to him. He frowned and gave her a skeptical once-over, and even though she knew he was looking to determine if she was strong enough to help, and that should be insulting, all she could do was feel the force of his icy-blue gaze everywhere he looked.
“No,” he finally said.
Hayley opened her mouth to argue, but Sam hefted the kayak and kept talking and walking.
“But try to stay in the shade of the kayak. Your face is looking a little red.”
Hayley pushed the palms of her hands to her cheeks. Her face was indeed on fire, but she had a bad feeling it didn’t have as much to do with the sunshine as Sam might think.
Nevertheless, she stayed close to Sam. Close was actually better. She couldn’t watch all the different ways his muscles moved. She just had to watch his feet and make sure she didn’t run into that—what appeared to be—hard wall of muscle.
Really hot muscle.
The return trip took ages, ages and ages, in a silence she was pretty sure was only uncomfortable for her and her unfortunately lustful thoughts.
Lucky for her, Sam seemed about as likely to return her lusty feelings as a bear was to pass up an open garbage can.
They finally made it back to the shed, and Sam was right, she was starving. Nearly shaking with it.
“I’ve got some snacks in the car,” he muttered, as if reading her thoughts. “And look . . .”
He started walking back toward the parking lot without finishing his sentence. When they finally reached the Jeep he looked at her, eyebrows still furrowed, mouth pressed into a grim line—so tight his beard nearly obscured his lips completely.
“I’m sorry I went off half-cocked.”
She blinked at him, trying not to blush over where her mind went at the word cocked. “It’s fine,” she, yes, squeaked.
He shook his head and climbed into the driver’s seat, so she did the same and got in on her side.
He pulled a bag from the backseat and plopped it into her lap. “Eat whatever you want out of here.”
Hayley dug into the bag and pulled out a bag of nuts. “I guess you don’t have any cheeseburgers or pizza slices in here, huh?”
He made a noise, and she had to look up at him because she almost, almost thought it might have been a laugh. Maybe. And he was kind of smiling. The tiny upward curve of the edges of his mouth might have been considered a pleasant non-smiling expression on anyone else, but Sam was unique.
She’d count it as a laugh and a smile.
“Nuts. Berries. Dried fruit.”
Hayley dug into the bag of nuts despondently. “So far, I’m really liking the job, but the food choices have to improve.”
He didn’t say anything else as he drove them back to his cabin. Hayley polished off the bag of nuts, then worked at choking down some dried fruit. “This is truly revolting.”
“Then don’t eat it,” he muttered, parking the Jeep next to his odd little cabin.
They both climbed out and as much as Hayley was ready for a real, way overdue lunch, she was a little loath to leave him.
He’d shared the tiniest piece of himself, and she wanted . . .
Well, hell, she just kind of wanted.
“So tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.
“I have excursions tomorrow,” he returned, walking up to his cabin without a backward glance.
“Couldn’t I go on them? You know, observe you?” she asked, following after him.
“You’re not ready. These are challenging rock climbs.” He paused at his door, looking back at her with something she might have considered compassion if it wasn’t so hidden beneath layers of hair and Sam-ness. “Besides, there’d be some likelihood of you seeing Will and Brandon.”
“Oh.”
“Come back Friday morning. I don’t have anything until one. We’ll do a more educational kayak trip.”
“Like an actual training situation instead of a manly anger fit?”
He gave her a doleful look. “Goodbye, Hayley.” He turned the knob and stepped into his cabin, but Hayley took a step forward so she was standing at the bottom of his stoop.
“I’m . . . I’m sorry about your sister, Sam. I know you don’t want to believe in legends about healing or anything, and I know you’ve lived here for years, but I can’t help but think if you opened yourself up to it, you might just find it.”
He didn’t say anything to that, just closed the door. Refusal. Rejection. Not unexpected, but a little prick of hurt nonetheless.
Which was silly considering how used to little meaningless rejections she was. But it was something she was going to have to get a handle on when it came to Sam. And fast.