He drew in a breath and stared at the blue swath overhead, the clear sky. “And what does the answer do for you? Do you have to understand to accept?”
Jenny’s words had lingered in his head, digging in to find his bones, not unlike the cold of the ledge, the ache in his leg.
He did want to argue with the outcome. But it didn’t change anything.
So then what? How did he live with a life that wasn’t what he expected? Or wanted?
It would be easier if he didn’t have to look down and see the scars every day. But maybe yes, it wasn’t about understanding, but acceptance.
He still didn’t know what to do with the anger, but he’d lived with it this long, maybe acceptance was the best he could hope for.
At least it might help him stop hiding. Because as Jenny sighed again and roused, the idea of climbing out of the crevasse and . . . well, Ham lived in Minnesota.
Jenny lived in Minnesota.
And if Ham wasn’t dead—please!—then maybe he could join Ham’s SAR team, answer the nudge inside him. “I know you, Ry. You’re a rescuer.”
He let those words saturate him as Jenny leaned up, cold air rushing into the space she’d occupied. Sleep lines ran through her face, her hair tangled. A line of sunburn ringed her eyes, touched her nose.
With everything inside him, he wanted to grab her jacket and pull her to himself. Taste that smile that now slid up her face. Her blue eyes met his. “How’re you doing? How’s the leg?”
“Ready to climb.”
She arched an eyebrow, then looked up at the slice of blue. “Let’s get some breakfast.”
He couldn’t argue with some hot tea, reconstituted oatmeal, dried fruit. He didn’t want to know how old the grub was, but it still filled his belly. Although, “What I wouldn’t give for a cup of dark, bracing straight-up coffee. And maybe a donut.”
Jenny was quiet as she sipped her tea.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to think through how to get us out of here.”
He’d spent the better part of the night churning through the same thoughts.
“I’ll belay you up to the top. You lead climb, set in the screws as you go. Then, when you get to the top, set up a fixed line and I’ll use my foot strap to ascend.”
Her mouth tightened into a thin line.
“What?”
“I just . . . maybe I should haul you up.” She met his eyes. “And no comments about me not being strong enough. I’ll use a haul system.”
“There’s not enough rope for a haul system. It would need to go from the top, back down, back up, and leave room for you to pull.”
She seemed to be measuring his words.
“I’ll be fine, Jen. We’re going to make it.”
The crevasse walls resembled waterfalls of frozen ice—rippled in places, with rugged overhangs and horizontal layers of snow packed tight, nobby juttings of former ice bridges, and massive hanging icicles that, if they unlatched, could spear them through.
A cruel beauty.
“I’m worried about that overhang.” He pointed to the shelf over the edge.
He was also worried about Ham. Which only set a fist into his gut as he remembered Ham’s prayer.
“Make our steps safe and go before us. Finish the task you’ve pressed us to.”
He wasn’t going to assign any blame, because yeah, answers didn’t change anything. But for all the guys to fall on the mountain . . .
“I can climb the shelf,” Jenny said. She stood up. “I’ll go up this waterfall-type section—the ice is bluer here, probably more stable, then I’ll set my screws on the overhang as I climb it.”
He traced her route. Not unlike rock climbing with ridges, nodules, and sheer pitches. But he liked how she thought. They could do this.
She finished her tea, packed it away. Then she kitted up, pulling on her harness, her crampons, attaching the anchors, slings, and webbing with the biners onto her harness.
Meanwhile, he set up the belay system. He flaked out the cold, stiff rope, running his hand over it, checking for knots and working out the kinks. Then he knotted the free end onto the pack. “We’ll haul the pack up after I get up top.”
She was roping into her kit, tying a figure eight, clipping it into her biner. She looked over at him and smiled. “We’ll need it for the hike down.”
Any other time, any other place, and when his leg wasn’t completely messed up, this might be the perfect date. A pretty girl, blue skies, a hint of adrenaline? Yeah, they were going to make it. The sense of it found his gut, pressed through to his bones. She was a smart, capable climber.
And he had been practically born to ice and snow, to climb this mountain.
It couldn’t hold him hostage any longer.
“You having a good time or something?” he asked as he pushed himself up. Bit back a groan.
“Just thinking that today, I’m going to save you, PJ.”
“You think so.” He hobbled toward her. Grabbed her jacket. Pulled her close to him. “Maybe you already have.”
Her mouth opened, as if in surprise. “I don’t—”
“Jacie—Jenny. Whoever you are, seeing you, finding you, even us landing down here, alive—it’s like a miracle. You’re right. Getting answers isn’t going to change the outcome of what happened. God’s not going to answer my questions . . . and maybe he doesn’t need to. Maybe it’s enough that he saved us. And he’s still saving us.”
She closed her mouth, her gaze hard in his as she swallowed. Nodded. “I hope he’s also saving Aria and Sash.”
He didn’t know what to say to that. “We’ll get out and find help. We’re going to escape down this mountain and then . . .” He lifted his mouth in a smile. “What if I followed you out of the woods and back to Minnesota?”
“Uh . . .”
He frowned. Oh no, too soon—
Then she smiled. “You sure you’re ready to do that?”
Oh, honey. “I’m ready to stop hiding. And yeah, maybe I am a rescuer. Or I want to be, again. And if Ham’s . . .” He took a breath. “If Ham gave his life for us, maybe Jake and I need to pick up Ham’s dream.”
She touched his face with her ungloved hand, pressed the warmth of it to his whiskers. Met his eyes, an emotion in them he couldn’t read.
Then she kissed him, a sort of solid determination in her kiss that had him wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning back against the ice to pull her to himself.
She made a sound deep inside, a sort of hum, and he drank it in.
Yeah. He’d get off this mountain and start over. Let go of the anger and start appreciating what he still had.
Jenny. Life.
A fresh start.
She pushed away from him, her face a little flushed. “Okay. Let’s get out of here.”
He let her step back, then couldn’t stop himself from checking her knots. He hooked the belay device into his biner at his harness, and wove the rope in.
“Ready?”
She’d taken his axe, as well as her own, and stared up at the wall. Took a breath. “On belay?”
“Belaying.”
“Climbing.”
“Climb on.”
He stepped close to the wall, praying hard she didn’t fall before setting the first screw, not sure how his leg would hold up. He bore little weight on it, but he didn’t need it to arrest her fall once she clipped in. Just his leverage and good technique.