Nothing about the Inca Trail could be described as easy. Beautiful, yes. Arduous, yes. Unexpected, hell yes. But never easy. Even so, I wasn’t prepared for the final flight of near-vertical stairs up to the Sun Gate.
“You have got to be kidding,” I muttered, and glared hate at the stones I had once admired. It was inconceivable that I had actually marveled at these steps, listened in awe to Ruben talk about the tenacity of the Incas who had hauled every last one of these stones up to this oxygen-poor height, carefully placing them on the trail. What had I thought would be waiting for us now? That the final approach to Machu Picchu would be an easy downhill stroll on a plush carpet of green grass, accompanied by the sweet notes of harpsichords? But how could I possibly complain when Quattro was carrying Stesha?
Remembering Stesha, ashen in his arms, was enough to force my quaking thighs to take the next step, then the next. Every hesitation only delayed getting her medical help, which was why Quattro and I were hustling as fast as we could. We had left Mom and Grace far behind, but even so, I berated myself. I wasn’t moving fast enough. If I was struggling, how on earth was Quattro powering up these same stairs, carrying a hundred extra pounds behind me? The thought was humbling.
As I neared the top, I began yelling, which was more like rasping since my breath was so ragged and shallow: “Help! We need help!”
A more welcome cavalry, I don’t think I’d ever seen: Ruben thundering down the steps toward us, Hank and Dad bringing up the rear. In a matter of moments, Ruben was reaching out to take Stesha from Quattro.
“What happened?” Ruben demanded.
“She fell, then threw up,” I said between pants. “She needs a doctor.”
Ruben nodded. He looked at Quattro, whose legs were trembling from pushing so hard, then at me. “You both did great,” he said. Then he wrenched around and began racing back up the route to the Sun Gate, cradling Stesha tenderly in his arms. Dad and Hank followed close behind while Quattro collapsed on the stairs, hands on his knees, bent over. He tried to catch his breath and wheezed instead.
“You okay?” I asked.
He nodded, unable to get a word out.
“You were amazing. Really amazing.”
It no longer mattered that boundaries had been reasserted and reinforced the night before. I placed a hand on Quattro’s shoulder and squeezed. The last thing I expected was for Quattro to reach across his chest and place his hand over mine. I shut my eyes; the undertow of emotions so strong. This wasn’t about working hard to win Dom’s respect. Or flirting with countless boys after Dom to prove that I was lovable. It wasn’t sizzling-hot desire, wanting Quattro’s body against mine. His fingers curled around my own. What this was, I was afraid to name, especially when I knew that Quattro didn’t want anything to do with a relationship.
“Did they get her okay?” Grace demanded as soon as she and Mom reached us.
“They did,” I said. I noticed that neither he nor I pulled our hands away from each other. “Thanks to Quattro.”
He shook his head. “I should have been faster.”
Quattro’s father made his way down to us. Only then did Quattro lower his hand.
“You did good, son,” Christopher said, eyes bright with pride.
From what I’d seen over the last few days, Christopher was a man whose few words mattered, but his rare compliment seemed to burn Quattro, who refused to make eye contact.
“I didn’t do anything,” he said in a low voice.
Christopher scratched his scruffy cheek, shifted his weight. As Mom shrugged off the backpack that she was carrying for Quattro, Christopher stretched his hand out to her, saying, “I’ll take that.”
Quattro flinched. “No.”
What was his problem? All his dad was trying to do was lessen his load after Quattro had practically given himself a heart attack racing up this last mountain. As if he knew he had hurt his dad’s feelings, Quattro softened his tone. “I can carry my own gear, Dad. I’m fine. Really.”
Still, he held his hand out to Mom with such a firm expression that she finally returned the backpack to him. In the exchange, Quattro nearly dropped the heavy pack, his trembling arms pushed past exhaustion. Why did he have to insist on carrying his stupid load? I was so irritated, I could have whacked him on the head.
Grace and Christopher exchanged a meaningful look as Quattro took the lead without a backward glance at us. Sighing deeply, Grace stared up at the final stair climb. “Oh, dear Lord.”
“We got this,” I assured her, even though my legs protested otherwise. My gaze strayed to Quattro, who was making steady upward progress. “Just think about the Wednesday Walkers.”