The Birthday List(67)

With me finally ready to go, Cole wasted no time backing out of the driveway and pointing us down the road.

It was still early, only six in the morning, but the mid-September morning light was beginning to shine.

“Wait!” I threw my hands out as Cole slammed on the brakes. “My sunglasses. I forgot my sunglasses.”

He grumbled and shoved the truck in reverse, speeding backward to my house.

I dug the keys from my purse and jumped out, rushing inside to grab my sunglasses from the kitchen counter—right where I’d left them so I wouldn’t forget. I smiled as I walked back to the truck, feeling much better about starting the weekend off right.

Thanks to a last-minute cancelation, Cole and I had scored a room at one of the nicer lodges in the park. We’d be able to make this trip—without sleeping in a tent—and cross this item off Jamie’s list.

“Okay. I’m ready now.”

Cole was shaking his head as I got back into the truck. “Are you like this for every trip?”

I shrugged and buckled my seat belt. “I don’t believe in packing light.”

“Noted.” He smirked. “Are you sure you’re ready to go? We could take another lap through your house. Maybe box up some more clothes. Pack up a cooler in case we get stranded on the side of the road. We should probably take some extra gas too. Maybe another spare tire.”

I fought a smile and slid my sunglasses onto my nose. “Are you done teasing me so we can get on the road?”

He chuckled. “For now.”

“Good. Then let’s do this.” I smiled, practically bouncing in my seat. I couldn’t wait to do this hike.




My excitement was gone eight hours later.

Every step was excruciating. Pain shot through both of my feet as I followed Cole up the trail toward the peak.

Damn it. Damn it! This was not how I’d envisioned the day going.

We’d made it to the lodge just after lunch and immediately gotten ready to hike this trail. The sun was shining. The air was pure. I’d never expected to be in this much pain hours later.

I’d chosen this trail because it was rated as one of the most beautiful. The relatively short hike—only about eight miles round trip—would lead us to a small lake surrounded by high peaks and a couple of glaciers.

But now, I had no idea if I’d actually make it to the end or be able to cross this item off Jamie’s list.

I could see the crest in the distance, and according to my pedometer, this was the last stretch before we reached the lake. I only had to make it another hundred yards, but it might as well have been ten miles.

I was ready to collapse.

My lungs were burning and my legs were turning to mush. I could have pushed through that kind of pain, but my feet? The agony with every step was going to bring me to my knees.

Fuck. Fuck! I cursed and winced with every step. All because of these fucking boots.

My feet had grown since I’d last worn these boots in college. Not by a lot—I hadn’t gone up a size in my regular shoes—but enough that these boots no longer fit.

My heels were rubbed raw. Blisters were growing on blisters. It had gotten so bad on my right foot that with every step, blood squished between my toes.

How could I have been so stupid? Why hadn’t I tried these on before we’d left Bozeman? I grew up in Alaska—hiking in Alaska. I’d learned young how important it was to have good hiking boots.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to throw something. I was close to the end. So fucking close, but all I wanted to do was turn around.

I took another step and a fresh stab of pain shot through my foot, causing me to falter and my ankle to twist. “Ahh!” I let out a strangled cry as I dropped to my hands and knees. Bits of gravel dug into my palms as I closed my eyes and took a breath.

I had to keep going. I had to finish this hike.

I whimpered as I tried to stand, struggling to find my balance on two aching feet. I would have dropped again if not for the two large hands that came under my arms and helped me up.

“What’s wrong?” Cole’s face searched mine. “Are you hurt? Did you twist your ankle?”

I looked to my traitorous feet. “No, I’m okay.”

“Bullshit,” he clipped. “What’s wrong?”

He was wearing a hat today, an old Montana State baseball cap, but it didn’t hide the worry pinching his green eyes.

It was his concern for me that broke the thin hold I’d kept on my emotions. Frustrated tears welled and my chin quivered as I looked back at my boots. “My boots are too tight. My feet must have grown. These were my hiking boots from high school and college, and I . . . I didn’t know.”

“Hey.” Cole tipped up my chin. “It’s okay. We’ll just go back down.”

“No!” I shook my head frantically. “We’re so close. I need to do this. I can do this.” I tried to take a step past him but his hands clamped on my biceps and didn’t let me pass.

“Stop,” Cole whispered. “You’ve hiked Glacier. Maybe not to the lake, but you did it. You can mark this off the list, even if we turn back now.”

“No, I need to do this.” My voice cracked in despair. “Not just for Jamie’s list, but for me. I need to finish this hike.”