“There's nothing here. I thought we had some odds and ends we could use to clean up one of the other cabins—lamps, light fixtures, that kind of thing—but nothing is here so far. I'll have to buy some things in town.”
“With the savings you plan to spend for a minimum credit card payment?” she asked sharply, throat bobbing. Stella stared outside, though there was nothing there, and I recognized the tight, pinched part of her voice.
Did risk scare her?
Maybe it should scare me more, but this wasn't the tensest situation I'd ever been in. Things always had a way of working out.
“Something will pop up,” I said easily. “Now that it's warming up outside, let's hop on the four-wheeler. I'll tour you around the camp. Let's see if it triggers any ideas for either of us.”
11 Stella
Twenty minutes later, we bounced down the road on a tired four-wheeler that gasped every time Mark pushed the accelerator too fast. I sat behind him, the autumn sun warm on my face. His back felt firm against my chest even though I tried hard to keep space between us. The bounce of the ride made it almost impossible. Eventually, I gave it up and enjoyed the feeling of him close to me.
How long had it been since I'd had physical touch with someone?
Too long.
My mind shifted away from that and tried to quell the rising panic.
This is Mark's responsibility, not mine.
This is Mark's responsibility, not mine.
Even though Adventura wasn't actually mine to save, a rising sense of responsibility had grown within me overnight. The feeling of being in this together ever since he gave the $500 back. Besides, if something happened to Adventura, I wouldn't have a hiding place or anyone in the world I could safely rely on.
More than that, however, was I wanted this for Mark. He was a good guy. Misunderstood. Energetic to a fault. But a good guy.
And his laissez-faire attitude was going to kill me.
Touring Adventura didn't help my anxiety, either. The land, tucked into the folds of the mountains and still thick with blooming green and gold, took my breath away. Fresh air brushed past my cheeks and removed some of my desperate fright. But under it all lay a sense of vast emptiness.
There wasn't much here to fix.
The kitchen was the largest building, with an attached dining room and open seating space to feed the campers and staff, but the shingles on the roof were in need of repair and a good slapping of stain on the dry wood. The cost of the stain alone would be hundreds of dollars.
A few outbuildings and smaller sheds dotted certain areas. No pavement appeared anywhere outside of the highway miles away—even the parking lot was dirt. Outside of the cabin where I slept, a few others I hadn't gotten a good glimpse of were tucked out of sight. Were those the ones he also wanted to rent? They seemed sort of close together. The commissary was the only other building. He had other perks, like the lake and the river and hiking in the canyon, but there wasn't much at Adventura.
My stomach sank with every mile Mark put on the engine. He'd point at something, slow down, and explain it. Campsites. Stream access. A place where a black bear had been spotted. Twice we crossed a burbling stream, shady parts edged with crackling ice. The entire place truly was lovely. A definite home.
But could he sell it as a retreat that people would pay for?
Finally, Mark took me up a trail that was clearly created by the four-wheeler. Eventually, he stopped it and killed the engine, then swung off. He extended a hand to me with an eager, bright smile.
“C'mere. There's a view of the whole camp.”
I slipped my hand in his and he tugged me off the four-wheeler. My skin thrilled to the contact of another human, even if wholly without romantic affection. Only a few paces away was the edge of a rock face that looked down. The tops of the cabins were visible from here, dark slopes against the green and spiny-branched backdrop. I'd seen the lake from the ground, but not so high. Rolling green spread out the other side of it, disappearing into more ridges and trees. The canyon walls were closer than I'd thought, leading back until the mountains disappeared in themselves.
The wild beauty took my breath away.
Mark sat down, a broad grin on his face. How was he this calm? How could he stand to look at all of this when he could be a few bad payments away from losing it? And why was he so unconcerned about the blatant problems in his plan? Mark usually came to me with his broad strokes ideas. Rarely did I get into the nitty-gritty with him, like now. Instead, I oversaw, advised, and he left to do whatever he thought best.
He drew me back to the present with a loud breath.
“Amazing.” He lifted both hands. “Isn't it absolutely amazing?”
We stared at the mountains, and they stared back. Somewhere around the rills of the peaks across from us would be the highway, hidden by twists and turns. I had absolutely no sense of direction, grateful that only one road led in and out, or else I would have gotten lost long ago.
“Very,” I murmured.
Mark leaned back on his palms, the backs of his shoes thudding against the rock his legs dangled off of like a little kid. I chose to sit back a little farther, legs crossed. The sheer drop below sent my stomach into a tumble at the mere thought.
After several moments, the quiet worked its magic. I lost the trail of anxiety that I'd been walking and let myself get lost in the quiet whisper of wind. My thoughts skittered like the leaves behind us. I closed my eyes, letting the sun warm my face again. When had I last sat outside to feel the sun?
Too
