That was Chet. Always trying to help people. As Sam glanced again outside, trying to locate Sierra, he wanted to take him up on it.
Just once, let someone else share the mantle.
The door opened and he looked over just in time to see Sierra come in. She held a puppy in her arms, a cute little golden retriever who squirmed free. She put it down, and it scampered over to Chet.
“Whoa, who’s this?” Chet leaned down to scoop the dog up.
“It’s Gopher, Jackson McTavish’s puppy. We’re dog-sitting.” Sierra looked at Sam. “Which is what I have to talk to you about, Sam.”
As a SAR professional, used to hunting for clues, he should have seen it coming, especially with Sierra dressed in a pair of yoga pants, flip-flops, and an oversized T-shirt.
Not exactly hiking attire.
“I’m not going with you today.”
Despite the warning, her declaration felt like a punch in his gut. He even emitted an incoherent, “Huh?”
“Jess doesn’t think we should take Gopher on the hike and she was going to watch him, but the bathroom sprung a major leak this morning, and she needs help—”
“Call Pete!”
But he realized his folly as soon as the words emerged.
“We’re not going there, Sam. It’s the least I can do after her letting us live there. And Willow can’t stay back because, well, she’s in charge. So . . .” She lifted a shoulder, an easy shrug as if she hadn’t decimated his entire day. His hope of redeeming their wretched date.
“I’m not going if you’re not.” The words came out more rebellion than clear thought.
Sierra frowned. “Sam, you have to go. Willow needs you.”
Willow needs—and that put a very fine point on exactly why he shouldn’t go. “Your sister has been a trail guide—she knows how to handle herself in the park. Besides, it’s just a day hike. It’s not like anyone is going to get hurt. And isn’t the new youth pastor going with them?”
Sierra put her hands on her hips, gave him a look she’d probably used on Ian for years to get him to snap out of his despair about Esme and rile him back into the land of the living. “You can’t abandon her.”
Abandon. Interesting word.
“Besides, have you taken a look at the new youth pastor? He’ll probably get blown off the top of the mountain by a stiff wind.”
He looked out at the group, couldn’t spot any adult but Willow.
“He’s the ten-year-old wearing jeans, his Cons, and a You-Don’t-Scare-Me-I’m-a-Youth-Pastor T-shirt. Very hip and most likely to be the one to perish.”
“No one is going to perish today.”
“Because you’ll be with them.” Sierra stepped closer then, her voice softening, her gaze in his. “Please? Willow and I sort of promised the pastor that you’d go. Besides, I won’t feel okay about Willow going out there if you’re not with her, either.”
Oh man.
Then she touched his arm. “And when you get back, come over for pizza. I’ll make it from scratch.”
She offered a smile, so much warmth in her eyes, what could he say?
“No black olives.”
“Deal.” She looped her arms around his waist, leaning in for an embrace. “You are my hero.”
Oh. Well.
He gave her a quick hug back, his day suddenly brightening.
“So that’s a yes on picking up your mom?” Chet said.
Sam felt fairly sure Chet didn’t mean it like it sounded. “Yeah, that would be great if you drove her to Bible study.”
Chet winked then, and Sam hadn’t a clue what to make of that. Then, “Where are you headed today, just so we know?”
“The Huckleberry Mountain Lookout trail,” Sierra said. “It’s one of Willow’s favorites. It’s an easy six-mile hike, nice views.”
“There might be snowfall higher up,” Chet said. “We’re starting to get some dusting in the mountains, so keep an eye out for weather.”
“Willow and I looked at the weather this morning,” Sierra said. “Looks like a chance of rain tonight, but you should have a nice day.”
Nicer with her along, but . . .
Sam picked up his pack. “I’ll grab an emergency pack from the barn.”
Sierra opened the door for Gopher, who bounded toward the barn, his big paws and floppy ears a magnet for the high school girls.
They, at least, resembled hikers. In fact, as he joined Willow, it seemed she’d given them instructions to dress like she did because all of them, except for Youth Pastor Blessing, wore layers—thermal shirts, fleece jackets, windbreakers for a couple, and sturdy boots.
He’d have to keep an eye on the pastor, make sure he didn’t turn his ankle or slide down a scree of rocks in his hipster shoes. Sam would grab a fleece for him instead of the canvas jacket.