Identity

The silence was music.

“I have to do it again.” She turned to him. “Sorry, but it’s too perfect not to.” She held up the camera. “It’s your own fault. I don’t even care if you scowl.”

She slid an arm around his waist, angled the camera.

When she’d taken the shot, she pointed at Howl.

“Your turn. Sit down. Good dogs sit.”

She crouched down to frame him in, with his eyes full of happy, head angled in anticipation.

That might’ve been the moment, Miles would think later, just the moment when he started to slip. Watching her convince the dog to pose—and damned if he didn’t—with her absolute pleasure in the moment, in the place, in the quiet soaring like the hawks overhead.

The moment when she looked up at him, glowing, simply glowing while surrounded by the world that had always been his.

Then she stood, put her phone away, and took his hands. “Thanks. You couldn’t have picked a better day, a better trail.”

“That’s a killer in the fall.” He nodded toward the view.

“I bet, but right now, it’s just so full of summer.” Looking out again, she tipped her head to his shoulder. “Fall’s bounty, winter’s waiting, spring’s beginning. But summer? It’s fruition.”

The silence broke as voices carried up the trail, so he moved on. Putting the moment aside, he walked with her and the dog.

“Now you’ve done it,” she told him as the track wound downward. “I’m going to have to make a lot more time for this. Even an hour now and then on a day off. How do you feel about camping?”

“I feel humanity’s progressed through work, innovation, necessity, and luck since they were cave dwellers or pioneers, and I respect their efforts, and value those efforts toward indoor plumbing, thermal windows, sturdy mattresses, and broadband. I don’t see a reason to choose to ignore those innovations and sleep in a tent.”

“That would be a no to camping. I’d say it’s nice that I also have a healthy respect for progress and innovation. But I bet you know how, which would be handy in the event of that zombie apocalypse or alien invasion.

“And that’s a bear,” she said, stopping dead when one crossed the path about two yards down. “An actual bear.”

“He’s not interested in you.” But Miles took the leash as Howl began to mutter and wag. “Brown bear, usually not aggressive. We’re not taking another selfie with it.”

“The thought never occurred. It’s a bear. It’s a really big bear.”

But it lumbered its way into the trees.

“We’ll give him a minute. You hiked with your grandfather a few times, right? You never crossed paths with a bear?”

“I did not. He told me what to do, what not to do if we did. I remember being disappointed we never saw one. Now I wonder why.”

“We have some wander onto the resort now and then, especially around the cabins.”

As they walked she looked toward the direction the bear had taken, but didn’t see a sign of it.

“I’d probably be excited to see one—if I were sitting inside a cabin.”

He shrugged. “They were here first.”

It made her smile at him. “Dear Diary, today I saw a waterfall, stood and looked out over miles of mountains, and had a bear walk by.”

“Do you do that? Keep a diary?”

“No. Who has time? But if I did, I’d add in the bear. I’m going to stop by the bakery after we pick up my car, get something for dessert for tomorrow.”

“Nell’s doing this cake thing she does.”

“Nell bakes?”

“Sometimes. Plus, I’m grilling—you’re doing the potato thing. She’s not about to be outdone.”

“I like that about her. The way she competes. It has to be challenging, being sandwiched between two brothers.”

“Maybe it’s challenging to be the oldest.”

“Is it?”

“Not really. But it could be.”

“It’s not, because when it comes down to it, you’re a team. There’s one of your cabins. Look how it’s all nestled in there, with rockers on the big front porch. I didn’t realize we’d circled back so close to the resort.”

“Nearly back where we started.”

“I see that now.”

They crossed the little bridge over the narrow stream, and the trail opened up to the ropes course.

She spotted Liam carting a couple of harnesses over to a bench.

“Good hike?” he called out as they crossed to him.

“It was wonderful. Waterfalls and vistas and bears. No takers this afternoon?” she asked as she scanned the empty course above.

“We’re booked for a private run.”

He held out a harness.

“What?” Nell clasped her hands behind her back. “No.”

“Just the thing to cap off a hike.”

“No, it’s not. It’s just the thing to make you squeal like a five-year-old or curl into a ball and whimper for your mommy.”

“You’re not afraid of heights.” Miles picked up a harness, began to strap it on. “Not the way you stood up at the lookout.”

“No, I’m not afraid of heights, but—”

“If you were, we’d skip this.”

“I’m not afraid of heights, but I have a healthy respect for gravity.”

“You won’t fall. See this?” Liam held up the harness, showed her the carabiner on the belay system. “You clip this on, and it locks. It can’t unlock until you physically unlock it. You’ll always have at least one safety line attached at all times, even when you’re standing on a platform.”

“I question why I’d stand on a platform up there.”

“It’s fun!”

“If she’s afraid…” Miles let than hang, started to remove his harness.

“‘Afraid’ is a strong word.” And one she knew he’d used on purpose. “Wary. I prefer ‘wary.’”

“What’re you going to do when the zombies swarm?” Miles asked her.

“Die a horrible death, then spend the rest of my zombie existence eating brains. Damn it, this is an ambush.” She grabbed the harness. “Show me how this thing works.”

As he hooked it on her, Liam smiled into her eyes. “This’ll hold easily three times your weight. We’re both going to be up there with you, but first, I’m going to go over the basics right here on the ground.”

“I like the ground.”

Liam was thorough, and the basics didn’t seem too complicated.

“What about Howl?”

Miles hooked his leash to the leg of the bench, set out water and a chew stick. “He’s fine,” he said, and handed her a safety helmet.

She wasn’t that competitive, she thought, but found herself climbing to the first platform behind Liam with Miles behind her. On the platform, with Howl far below, Liam went over the belay and safety system again.

“The bridge will sway some as you step on those wood crosses, but you’re hooked on.”

“You go first.”

“Sure. I’ll wait on the next platform.”

He might as well have walked across a solid stone bridge two feet above a lazy stream, Morgan thought as she watched him.

“You’re fine,” Miles said from behind her.

She spared him one dubious look, held her breath, stepped off the platform.

It swayed all right, but she kept her eyes on the second platform, even when Howl howled from below.

She didn’t fall, and didn’t end up dangling in humiliation.