Leo stood nearby, an unspeaking and unmoving presence. She could turn around and go back to her spot next to the fire and answer the enormous question he’d just posed: Whatever happened with Duke? But an even larger part of her knew they could have the conversation and it wouldn’t matter. The truth about tragedy was that once it struck, nothing on this wide green earth could make it any better. Leo had been her spark, had brought a glimpse of love and laughter and security into her life, but his departure had only proven what she’d already known: good things don’t stick around.
The air away from the fire was cool and dry, and when Lily looked over her shoulder at him, she saw in his eyes that he knew it, too: their moment had passed.
He smiled, releasing her. “Sleep well, Lily.”
Chapter Ten
NOT EVEN SEVEN days a week of the toughest Tabata class at the Upper East Side Equinox could have prepared Leo for the pain that greeted him every morning of this trip. By their fourth day, it was slightly easier, but that first step out of the tent remained excruciating. For the first twenty minutes every day, he could barely walk, and it wasn’t just a sore ass and legs and back; even taking a deep breath was painful. Bending to spit out his toothpaste caused a frantic spasm in his side. He wasn’t sure whether he should blame the cold, the dry air, the hours on a horse, or the nights spent sleeping on the ground, but he woke up feeling like he’d aged a decade.
Two full days had passed since he and Lily had talked at the campfire, and she was doing her best to avoid him. Sure, she’d asked him if he wanted more potato salad at lunch and told him to stop letting Ace graze along the trail as they rode, but they hadn’t talked about anything meaningful since—had never returned to the subject of whether she and her dad ever reconciled. It felt like a code half-cracked.
From near a small cluster of rocks where Nicole had fashioned a makeshift hand-washing station—a jug of fresh water, soap, a couple of clean hand towels—Leo looked out at the slowly brightening morning, at the spires of rock crowded together in the distance. They’d passed a few signs of civilization over the last few days—the occasional piece of trash, a broken bike tire or marker along the trail—but it was easy to see how isolated they’d become, even a few miles out. This was desolate terrain, but breathtaking, alternating between flat sandy ground, steep drop-offs, and towers of carrot-colored rock faces. Wiry thickets of sage-green scrub grew thick and lush where the ground had been carved away and water collected. Spindly trees showed the persistence of life, finding purchase wherever they could. The sunrise hit the red rock from every angle, illuminating the landscape in startling shades of tangerine, rust, crimson, and wine. In a couple of hours, the sky would be almost startlingly blue. Already it was intensely bright, the air so parched his eyes itched.
With the soft nickering of horses and the smell of camp smoke filling the air, Leo could almost imagine cowboys thundering through this passage, the dust and cacophony of herds of cattle and horses.
Until a grunt rose from the ground, and Leo glanced down to see Walter half in and half out of his tent, shirt bunched up around his ribs, face pressed to the red dirt.
Leo dropped his toothbrush back into his toiletry bag. “Hey, Walt.”
He looked up at Leo, eyes droopy and pitiful. “My ass is crying.”
And Leo’s spine felt welded in place. “It took me ten minutes to get my shirt on.”
“Will I ever sit like a normal person again?” Walt asked, voice thin. “I don’t even remember how it feels to approach a chair without dread.”
Wincing, Leo slowly bent to help his friend up. “I’d like to take off my own back and beat Bradley with it.” Together they hobbled their way toward the fire.
Nicole—already working on breakfast—watched with amusement as they attempted to sit gracefully down on a slab of sandstone. “It gets easier, I promise.”
Walter looked betrayed. “You said that yesterday.”
Leo glanced up in time to see Lily approaching with a pair of saddle blankets in her arms, and just like the past couple of days, she avoided his eyes. Her hair was braided under her Stetson, her jeans already dusty. She’d probably done more before six o’clock than most people did all day, and just seeing her in the muted morning light made his heart do an aching nosedive.
“You might also want to take some ibuprofen,” Lily said. “We have a six-hour ride today.”
Walter exhaled a terrified “Six.”
Nicole appeared, handing him a steaming mug of coffee, and he accepted it with a stiff bow. She gave the second mug to Leo before heading back to the table. It felt suddenly ridiculous that life could move on like this. A few days ago, he’d been in his safe but boring life, sitting in meetings or answering emails for nine hours a day; today he felt like he’d been yanked up and planted back on the earth upside down and inside out. In contrast, Lily moved around with more ease than before their talk, like they’d covered enough of their history to simply close the door and move on.