Stay With Me (5 page)

Rebecca sighed. She hadn’t done much living. Not
really. These past months out from under Dad’s control made her realize how
little she had done, seen, or experienced. Travel topped the list of things
she’d missed out on. And she did trust Chris, didn’t she?

“Thanks, Abby. I’m going to do it.”

When she told Chris that, yes, she’d go, she could
tell he was elated, even over the phone.

“What do I need?”

“Hiking boots, if you’ve got them, and your
personal stuff. I’ll take care of the rest.”

She ought to confirm the sleeping arrangements once
more. “Separate sleeping bags, right? No fooling around?”

“No fooling around. I promise.”

He didn’t try to backpedal. Good. He had even upped
the ante with a promise to behave.

“What time do you plan on coming back Sunday? I’d
like to go to church.”

“It’s kind of a haul to get to the Catholic church
from the campground. You have to go down the mountain. I figured I’d go here
Sunday evening. You’re welcome to come with me, or I can find out if there’s a
nondenominational service at the campground Sunday morning.”

“Would you do that for me?” She switched her phone
to the other ear and bit her bottom lip.

“Sure. I’d be happy to go with you, too.”

Rebecca smiled and squelched her desire to let out
an excited squeal. She couldn’t wait for the weekend.

5

One Sweet World

Rebecca’s stomach lurched to a stop a second after
the car as they pulled up to the campground entrance. The winding road through
the park, beautiful as it was, had made her a little carsick.

“You okay?” Chris asked.

“I feel better now that we’ve stopped moving.” She
laid her hand across her belly, and the nausea subsided.

“I’ll reserve us a site. Be right back.” Chris
hopped out of the car and walked to the window of the small ranger station. The
ranger passed some information to him under the glass. Chris pointed at
something on the paper and slid it back under.

Rebecca rolled the window down and breathed in the
fresh mountain air. Two white-tailed deer, a doe and a fawn, ambled from the
campsite on her right toward the road. A pair of robins chased each other
across the grass calling to one another. Peaceful. She loved the park
immediately.

The slam of the door brought her attention back to
the car interior.

Chris held a campground map out to her and pointed
to the circled site. “We got a walk-in back in the woods. I love the sites back
there. Wooded, level, shady, and private.”

She tensed a little at “private.” Nothing would be
happening between them that required privacy. She reminded herself of Chris’s
promise to her about “no fooling around” and that he had proven himself to be a
gentleman. She would relax and enjoy this weekend.

“There it is.” She pointed at the site marker, and
Chris backed into the space, giving them easier access to the gear in Alan’s
trunk.

“Let’s check it out.” Chris took her hand, and they
walked down a narrow, rocky path lined on either side with weeds and
wildflowers. A few red and black butterflies flitted above the foliage.

She and Chris passed tents on either side and
continued until the path dead-ended into their site. Her gaze followed the
trail of light up through the canopy to the sun. Dark clouds moved in from the
west, but bright and sunny skies dominated the east.

“What do you think?” Chris rubbed the sole of his
hiking boot over some rocks in the tent pad area. He picked a few up and
chucked them into the woods.

Rebecca touched the base of her neck. “You’re the
expert. Looks perfect to me.”

He smiled. “You like it here?”

“I love it so far.”

His smile grew bigger. “Good. I thought you would.”

“Maybe we should put up the tent right away.” She
inclined her chin overhead, where the dark clouds continued to roll in.

Chris squinted at the sky. “Yeah, we should. Let’s
get our stuff.”

It took three trips, but they managed to get
everything Chris had packed out of the trunk and down to the site. They piled
everything onto the picnic table, and Chris shuffled things around as he found
what he needed first. He glanced at the clouds again. “We’re going to have to
be quick.”

Rebecca nodded but knew she would be little help.
She’d never set up a tent in her life. What could she do? She stacked some
small containers and put them in the storage box.

“It’s nice they provide these big metal boxes to
keep stuff dry.”

Chris stopped shuffling his gear and stared at her.
Then at the metal box. Then back at her and laughed. “They are nice, but
they’re not there for our convenience. They’re bear-proof containers. So bears
don’t tear into our food and stuff.”

“There…are…bears here?” Could he hear the terror in
her voice?

He glanced up and gave her a half grin, then
grabbed the tent bag, unzipped it, and removed the poles. “Yep. Black bears. If
we’re lucky, we’ll see some. Last time I stayed back here, a mama bear and her
two cubs walked through the woods.” He pointed behind their tent through the
trees and bushes.

“They won’t eat us?”

Chris laughed. “No, but they would eat our food if
we left it out.” When she didn’t respond, he looked up again. He must have seen
the worry there because he set down the poles he was assembling and came to the
table.

Taking both of her hands in his, he said, “You
don’t need to worry. The bears don’t want to be bothered. We’ll steer clear of
them. If you make noise, bang some pots or something, it scares them right
off.”

A bear big enough to maul her with one paw was
afraid of a pot lid? It didn’t seem right, but Chris had done this many times,
so she chose to trust him. She nodded. “Okay. How can I help you?”

He handed her three poles to assemble. “Just finish
this.”

While she sprung the poles into place, Chris laid
out a tarp, arranging it just so, then laid the flattened tent on top of it.

“Okay. Let me see those poles.”

Rebecca mostly watched as Chris assembled the tent.
She held things steady as he secured the tent to the poles and then handed him
stakes as he pounded them into the ground.

“Rebecca, can you hang onto these poles while I tie
this?” Chris was holding up the two main poles where they crisscrossed over the
tent.

She stepped in front of him onto the tarp, where
their toes poked beneath the edge of the tent. Chris had about six inches on
her, so when he handed off the poles, she had to stand on her tiptoes to keep
hold of them. His body heat warmed her as he reached above her and laced the
thin fabric ties. He smelled woodsy and fresh, not at all sweaty like she
expected, given that he had just staked a half dozen guy-wires.

She felt rather than saw that the poles were fixed
and rocked back onto her heels. When she turned, her face was nearly up against
Chris’s chest. She looked up, and he looked down as his hands dropped to her
sides. His gaze lowered to her lips, and she remembered their two kisses the
night of Alan and Jamie’s wedding. She wouldn’t mind reliving those moments.

“Thanks. It’s nice to have help with this kind of
stuff for a change.” Then he took a step back, allowing her to move away from
the tent.

Chris eyed the mostly gray sky that threatened to
empty itself on them. “Let’s see if we can get this canopy over the eating
area, too.” He grabbed a canvas sack and walked toward the picnic table.

They repeated the process with the poles and had
the canopy up but not staked when the heavens opened in a downpour. They
scrambled underneath the cover, but the rain and the accompanying wind caused
it to wobble. Rebecca grabbed a pole to steady it. The tree leaves repeatedly
sagged with the weight of the heavy drops and then popped back up. The smell of
the fresh rain rejuvenated her, making her smile.

“I’m going to have to finish this.” Chris snatched
the remaining stakes from her hand, grabbed the mallet, and ducked out into the
rain. He had one corner secured before he set down the stakes and mallet,
whipped off his shirt in one motion, and tossed it to her under the canopy.

It made sense. Why get his shirt soaking wet? This
way he could dry his back and chest with a towel and have something warm and
semi-dry to put on. She just wasn’t prepared for it.

She realized then how little time she had spent in
the company of men other than her father and brother-in-law. Chris didn’t bear
the six-pack abs of a ripped body builder, the kind that graced the covers of
romance novels, but he was masculine, muscled, and she couldn’t pull her gaze
from him as he worked. He didn’t work out at a gym as far as she knew; he
lived—biked, hiked, helped care for his parents’ yard, and played flag football
and whatever other sport was in season with Alan and some other guys. Had she
been caught looking, she would have been embarrassed but not guilty. He was
almost an innocent curiosity to her, albeit a very attractive one.

In a few minutes, he had finished and darted back
under the cover saying something to her.

She blinked and forced herself out of her reverie.
“What?”

“The towel?”

“Oh, here.” She handed him the towel and forced her
attention elsewhere as he dried his hair and arms. “It’s not a very big towel.”

“No, but it does the job.” He ran it over his hair
one last time and shrugged. “And at least it’s warm out.”

Rebecca smiled. Yes, her cheeks did feel a little
heated.

The rain eased.

“Just a passing shower, I hope,” Chris said. “When
it stops, we can go to the camp store down at the entrance and get some
supplies.”

“Whatever you say. I’m the newbie.”

After fifteen minutes, the rain stopped and the sun
came out. They drove out of the campground and to the store near Big Meadows,
aptly named, she thought. That’s all it was—a big, big meadow. When she looked
carefully, she noticed more deer nibbling their way around a copse of small
trees.

Chris grabbed a basket in the store, and he picked
up an extra camp towel, a small whisk broom, and enough food for dinner and
breakfast. She left him to finish his shopping while she browsed the tee shirts
and typical tourist trap items—Christmas ornaments, magnets, shot glasses, and
back scratchers. She meandered into the children’s section and perused a
variety of bug catchers and magnifying glasses. She selected one of the small
bug holders and took it to the cashier.

“Found something you like?” Chris had a bag in each
hand.

She held up her own small bag.

“Bug holder. There are lightning bugs down here,
aren’t there?”

“Yep.”

“I kind of never got over catching them.” She
shrugged and gave him a sheepish smile. She couldn’t resist catching as many
fireflies as she could every opportunity she got. Silly, but true.

***

Chris planned a day hike for the afternoon. Rebecca
knew that he slowed his pace for her, but he didn’t seem to mind; they took
their time and enjoyed the natural beauty that surrounded them. Chris knew all
about the cabin foundations they passed, what kind of trees lined the trail,
and even where to find some elusive little salamanders that lived only inside
the park. He acted as a personal park guide for her.

Despite their leisurely pace, Rebecca was dog-tired
by the time they got back to the campground. When Chris told her he’d handle
dinner, she sunk into the hammock with relief. She must have been more tired
than she thought, because an hour and a half later, Chris leaned into the
hammock, nudged her arm, and summoned her to dinner.

She hadn’t counted on more than hot dogs and beans,
but Chris had grilled steaks, baked potatoes in the fire, and cooked corn on
the cob, too. Between mouthfuls of hot, buttery potato she praised his cooking.

“Thank you. I’m sure I’m not as good a cook as you
are a baker. Those peanut butter bars were out of this world. I do think
everything tastes better over a campfire though.”

“So, do you cook in a kitchen, too, or just over a
fire?”

“Uh, let’s just say my indoor cuisine is limited to
things I can boil and microwave.”

Rebecca leaned away from the picnic table and
patted her full belly. “I’m stuffed. What’s for dessert?”

Chris laughed. “You remind me of Alan. He used to
eat about three nibbles of his dinner when we were kids, say he was full, but
then tell my mom there was still room in the ‘dessert part.’ And, I do have a
bag of marshmallows.”

“Ooh, marshmallows. I can do dessert. You point me
in the direction of the marshmallows and the long fork-thingies, and then go
put your feet up by the fire.”

“The marshmallows are in the bear box, and the
‘fork thingies’ are on top of it.” Chris must have been beat, too, because he
went right to his camp chair, unlaced his boots and propped his feet on an old
log to the side of the fire pit.

Rebecca came back with the forks and marshmallows
and tore open the bag so she could place a couple of marshmallows on each tine.
“So, do you like your marshmallows burnt, toasty with a gooey inside, or
lightly browned?” She ticked each option off on her fingers.

When he didn’t answer right away, she looked over.
Chris’s hands were behind his head, which he had leaned back as far as he
could, and his eyes were closed. “I could go for something hot and luscious.”

That had to be a double entendre—one she chose to
ignore. He confirmed her suspicions when he sat up and smiled.

“Toasted and gooey sounds perfect.”

She shot him a crooked grin. She wished she had a
witty retort, but instead her stomach, which she thought had been filled to the
max with steak and potatoes, made room for a swarm of butterflies as well.
“Excellent choice.”

After a few minutes of holding the sweet treats
over the hottest part of the fire, Rebecca lifted the fork to examine their
toasty perfection before offering one to Chris. When he didn’t move from his
seat, she took them over to him, slid the gooey, delicious mess off the metal
stick and proffered it with her fingers. It smelled so good she couldn’t wait
to taste her own. Instead of taking it from her fingers, Chris took her hand
and guided it to his mouth. Rebecca froze. Chris’s lips touched her fingers,
but thankfully he didn’t do anything suggestive with them.