He sank down on the ground beside her. “I suppose. Julia was asleep before I finished reading her book, and Matt wasn’t long after that. Luke managed to read for a few minutes, but even he was exhausted. The hike was just right—long enough to tire them out, but not so long that they didn’t have time to relax and play in the afternoon.”
Kelsey picked up a silver-handled mug that she’d filled with tea just before he went into the tent with the kids. She took a sip before she spoke. “I remember hiking when I was a kid,” she said. “It’s fun for a few hours, but then you just want to take off your backpack and explore. I figured three miles was plenty of ground to travel. And besides, I knew the kids would love the waterfall.”
She had been to all these places many times before, Ross realized. No wonder this all seemed so comfortable to her. “How long have you been coming here?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied. “As long as I can remember. My mother loved this place.”
Surprised she had shared even that much, Ross didn’t press her when she trailed off into silence. “It’s beautiful,” he said. “I had no idea it would feel like this. I can’t thank you enough for bringing us here. I know it’s hard for you to take the time out.”
“I was planning on coming out this weekend anyway. I got in my run this afternoon. It’s not a bother.”
That afternoon, after they’d pitched the tent and had a snack, she had laced up a pair of trail shoes and taken off, returning several hours later with her shirt soaked against her skin, cheeks flushed and red. Then she’d led them all to the stream and the waterfall, and they’d laughed and doused themselves in the chilly water.
Beside him now the long honey-colored curtain of her hair gleamed faintly in the darkness, her face obscured by the night. He was half expecting her to get up then, make some apology or excuse and hide herself away from him. Instead she stayed, drinking her tea and looking up at the sky.
“I never feel as comfortable in the city as I do out here,” she said finally. “It’s like there’s space out here for my thoughts. When I’m in the city, I’m always worried about something I did or didn’t do. Out here, I feel like I’m always doing the right thing.”
Ross settled his back against the log. He didn’t really know what it would mean to feel that comfortable in the outdoors—his back was still adjusting to the first night on the ground—but he understood a little of what she meant about relaxing. This was the first night since he’d arrived in Denver that he wasn’t going to bed mentally ticking off items on his to-do list.
“I’m sorry you had to overhear that thing with my dad,” she said after a pause. “He can be a little bossy, especially when it comes to my seeing someone.”
“I guess that’s one way to put it.” Ross didn’t look at her, but he moved a few inches closer, so their thighs and hips touched. He wasn’t sure what had inspired this confession, but he suspected it was something to do with the stars and the quiet.
“He never really bounced back after my mother died,” she added, almost apologetically. “He has the best intentions, he really does. He thinks he’s doing it for my own good.”
Ross was withholding judgment on that count, but realized Kelsey probably wouldn’t appreciate his saying so. “Is that why you let him talk to you that way?” He half expected her to change the subject then, or protest, but she didn’t. She just paused, running her hands back and forth around the base of her mug.
“I’m all he has left,” she said. “He was never much of a social person to begin with, and after my mother died, he sort of…” She held her hands out in a gesture of helplessness. “Well, he changed. Became more moody. Stopped trying to talk to other people. I became his connection with the rest of the world.”
“And it’s been this way since you were thirteen?”
“Basically. It isn’t as if I don’t have my own life,” she added hastily. “I do. We just do the big climbs together.”
“But he doesn’t like to see you dating,” Ross concluded.
“It doesn’t come up very often,” she said, a smile not quite reaching her eyes. “I don’t usually entertain in the middle of the afternoon.”
He didn’t laugh in response.
“Look, you’ve got responsibilities to your kids, right? Well, I’ve got my father. He’s challenging, but what can you do? I love him. And it isn’t as if it’s some kind of terrible burden. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have accomplished half as much as I have, or seen half as much of the world. We get along much better than it seems. I just have to keep him from flying off the handle sometimes.”