Conflicting Hearts (5 page)

Chapter 4

Taking a Hike

The morning dawns, and I try to find courage to face the
day. I eat an early breakfast high in protein, so I don’t succumb to the need
for food until later. Strangely, I’m not feeling as nervous as I thought I
would be. In fact, I feel excited to be doing something besides staying home
alone.

I dress in my best jeans, pink tee shirt, and grab a light
jacket. The weather is clear and sunny today with a high of seventy-five
degrees. Perfect for hiking the Columbia River Gorge, except as usual, it’s a
bit breezy from the east winds.

My long, blonde hair is freshly washed and pulled back in a
ponytail that I weave through the back of my pink baseball cap. Apparently, I’m
into pink today. I try not to overdue the makeup and definitely forgo any
perfume. Otherwise, I’ll be a target for every bee from here to Idaho.

After riffling through my dresser drawer, I find my waist
pouch. I stuff it with my keys, wallet, tube of lipstick, small comb, a couple
of tissues, and breath mints. I think that covers all the bases.

The anticipated knock comes at the door. For a moment, I
hesitate to answer and make sure it’s him by taking a peek through the peep
hole. Sure enough, it is. He has his head down, and I wonder what he’s thinking
about.

My delay causes him to knock again, so I relent and answer.
My heart leaps into my throat. God, he’s a hunk even out of a suit. He’s
wearing a Blazer team tee shirt, which lets a few chest hairs peek over the
top, and blue jeans with a matching jacket. I glance at his feet and see
top-of-the-line hiking boots.

“Hi,” he says, sporting a smile that flashes his
pearly-white teeth.

“Hi.” I keep my mouth shut and grin. He’s contagious in a
strange way—all that positive energy, laced with manners and kindness.

“You, uh, want to come in for a second? I need to grab my
jacket and stuff.”

“Sure,” he says, walking in and closing the door. He glances
around my apartment. “Nice place.”

It’s obvious he’s just saying that to be polite, but I try
to accept the comment. “Yeah, works for me. Been here about five years now.”

“Wow, long time.”

“Rent is cheap. Neighbors are quiet. That’s important.”

“Sure is.”

He stands there and watches my movements. I grab my waist
satchel and my jacket. “Well, guess that’s all I need.”

Ian opens the door for me, and I lock it. Once again, time stops,
and I’m off somewhere in my thoughts as I gleefully bounce down the steps and
stop.

“Where’s your car? I don’t see any duct tape.”

He laughs. “Over there. It’s a rental.” He walks toward a
huge sport-utility vehicle.

“Wow, your insurance sure put you up in a nice ride.”

“Well, I’m paying extra. I was hoping we’d take this little
trip, so I wanted something enjoyable for the drive.”

When he opens the door, the new car smell hits me in the
face, and the leather seats feel fantastic.
I can do this,
I tell
myself. He closes the door for me and climbs in on the other side. Over the
visor, he grabs a pair of expensive sunglasses and puts them on. The engine
starts up, and the next I know, we’re gliding down the street.

“Nice,” I say, as I check out all the great gadgets on the
dashboard.

“You get a rental too?” He turns his head and glances at me.

“Yeah, Ford Focus. It’s okay. Sits kind of low to the
ground. I like being up high like this.”

“My roadster sure hugs the road. This thing feels like a
truck to me, but it’s a nice rig.”

I’m not very talkative as I struggle with my nerves that are
now raising their ugly heads. It’s one thing to think I can do something; it’s
another to sit next to a man like him and think I can pull it off. It’s obvious
that I’m in way over my head. He is quiet as well, as he heads east down the
freeway toward the gorge. It’s been so long since I’ve been there, I feel
excited to get back.

“Are you taking the freeway all the way to the falls, or the
scenic route?” My question hopes to influence his decision.

“Which do you prefer, scenic or freeway? Either way is okay
with me.”

“It would be really nice if we could do the scenic. I hope
you don’t mind,” I meekly ask, hoping he’ll agree.

“No, absolutely not. Whatever you’d like.”

He’s being very agreeable, and I’m glad. A few minutes
later, Ian approaches the exit across the Sandy River. I’m surprised he knows
exactly which route to take. It’s exciting to be back on the old scenic
highway. I can’t wait to reach Crown Point and see the view.

“How long has it been since you been out this way?” He turns
his head and gives me a quick glance.

My excitement must be filling the vehicle. “Oh, probably a
few years. I used to drive out here once in a while by myself, but then I
eventually stopped coming when I moved over on the west side of town. Hate
doing things alone.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Purposely I turn and look at him, because he’s gone quiet on
me again. He seems to be thinking about something. For some odd reason, I
wonder if it’s his ex-wife, but it’s too early to bring up the subject, so I
let it pass.

The road twists and turns back and forth and through a
couple of small bergs. Then he starts the winding descent down the narrow two-lane
highway that hugs the cliff. The SUV seems frightfully large in the tiny lane.
The road has been paved over several times, because the asphalt buckles and
cracks like it’s going to give way down the cliff one of these days. Ian takes
it slow, and then pulls into to a parking space when we reach the visitor
center.

“Let’s get out and let the wind blow in our hair for a
minute.”

I can feel the wind buffeting the car. God I love it here.
The sky is clear, the Columbia River is blue with whitecaps, and the air is
fresh and clean. Now that I’m used to it, I wait for him to open my door, and I
jump out.

“Thanks.” I flash him a nervous smile. Surprisingly, he
grabs my hand.

“I better hang onto you so you don’t blow away.”

The warmth of his palm against mine feels heavenly. The
winds must be at least forty miles per hour. As we walk into it, loose clothing
snaps back and forth on our body. I pull down my baseball cap tight, so it
doesn’t go flying off. His hair is blowing in every direction, and I notice how
thick it is. He takes me over to the side of the stone barrier, and we stop and
look out over the river. Ian lets go of my hand, and I grab the railing.

“Gosh, it’s pretty.” I gush like a stupid tourist.

“Have you lived in Oregon long?”

“Uh, about eleven years. I was born and raised in the
Midwest and came out here in my early twenties.”

“How come?”

The question leads us both to a door I’m not ready to open
regarding my ex-spouse. I look at him and lock my jaw. Thankfully, he sees
hesitation in my eyes.

“You don’t need to tell me why,” he says. “Hey, look, an
eagle.” He lifts his hand and points to a bird circling overhead.

I tilt my head back and look at the magnificent fowl. He is
so close that we can see his white-feathered head. The bird is riding the
current of the wind, gliding in splendor.

“Ian?”

“Yeah,” he says, turning to look at me.

“Thanks.”

“For what?”

“For bringing me here. I
seriously
needed
this—definitely been hibernating way too long.”

He gets a twinkle in his eyes. “No problem,” he says,
slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me in for a hug toward his side.
I’m a bit surprised over his actions, since he’s acting like he’s more
interested than being a hiking buddy. He holds me like that for few minutes as
we both stand there and get lost in the scenery. Finally, he suggests we leave.

“You ready to climb to the top of the falls?”

“Ready.”

“Let’s go then.” We walk back to the car, and before I know
it, we’re weaving back and forth on the winding path. The trees have overgrown
like a canopy across the road. The ferns are abundant in the woods, and
thankfully the traffic is pretty light. I sit and look out the window as we
pass all the places I remember and the various waterfalls that cascade down
Larch Mountain to my right.

“So pretty,” I mumble.

“Yeah, it is.”

Another mile we start entering into the Multnomah Falls
parking lot. It is not as crowded as I thought it would be, but it’s still
early in the morning. The falls drop five hundred and forty-two feet into a
pool, which overflows into another drop of sixty-nine feet. I can hear the roar
of the water inside the car. It’s one of my favorite places, with a visiting
center, restaurant, gift shop, and trails that lead to the lower and upper
falls.

Ian finds a place to park, and I’m bursting inside with
excitement.
Why don’t I come here more often?
It doesn’t take long to
answer my own question—memories and the pain associated with a rotten marriage.
I glance over at Ian and hope I can make a treasured memory to erase the
unpleasant.

We both jump out of the car. He grabs his backpack and
slings it over his shoulder. “I brought water for both of us and a few munchies
in case we get hungry.”

“Water, thanks for thinking of that.” I feel pretty stupid
that I didn’t think of it myself. The trek to the top is a long climb. I’ll be
dying for something to drink once up there.

“Wow, what a day. Couldn’t ask for better weather,” he says,
tilting his head and looking up at the falls.

“Yeah, I know.”

He holds out his hand to me with a smile on his face and
nods his head toward the steps ahead. “Come on, let’s get at it.”

I look at his hand and pause for a moment.
Trust him
,
I tell myself sternly
.
It’s a beautiful moment. I want to cry, but I
quickly lower my eyes to the stone steps and grab his hand. He gives me a
little tug and off we go.

“It’s been some time since I’ve been here too,” he admits.

“Are you from Oregon originally?”

“No, California. Born and raised in the Bay area.”

“Oh, and then you went east to Harvard?”
Damn it,
I
inwardly balk and scrunch my shoulders. He’s going to know I’ve been checking
up on him.

He immediately halts his steps, turns and looks at me with
narrowed eyes. “Did you search my name on the web or something to make sure I’m
not a serial killer?” I can tell he’s not mad, but playful.

“Ah, yeah, something like that,” I reply with a wry glance.

He shakes his head at me. “Probably a smart thing I didn’t
stuff a roll of duct tape into my backpack.”

Ian swiftly pulls me onward, tightly holding my hand. We
start the climb. He hasn’t answered my question yet. “So, back to my
question—you went east to Harvard?”

“Yes, I went to Stanford University and then off to Harvard
Law School.”

“Wow,” I say, starting to huff through my words as my legs
strain on the incline. “I went to Redford High in Michigan, and only took
twenty hours at a community college. Definitely not as smart as you.”

“Hey, there are a lot of dumb-asses that come out of
Harvard. Education doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a better person,” he says
emphatically. He glances over at me. “Don’t feel intimidated around me, Rachel,
about my education. It’s not that big of a deal, believe me.”

I’m amazed there is not an observable trace of arrogance
about him. There must be something wrong with this guy somewhere! I’m so
intrigued that I want to find it, so that I can feel better about myself. Sick
thought, but true.

Ian drops my hand and starts to climb faster ahead of me.
I’m beginning to have trouble keeping up with him on the asphalt path that
meanders back and forth. At last we reach the bridge, which spans the lower
falls. The tallest waterfall looms in front of us, and the shortest drops
behind us into the pool below. It’s still early enough in the year that the
runoff is heavy. The sound of pounding water fills my ears.

I’m panting like a dog, while I let the invigorating spray
touch my face. After staring into the pattern of the cascading falls, I look
for the apparition.

“Have you ever seen the Indian princess ghost in the water?”
I wonder if he knows the legend.

“You mean the princess that jumped from the top of the
falls?” He tilts his head back and looks upward.

“Yeah, the sacrifice lover story. Kind of a sappy one,
actually,” I reply in a sarcastic voice. He looks surprised over my statement,
and then gazes back into the water as if he’s waiting for her to appear.

“No, I’ve never seen her ghostly figure. Have you?”

“No. Probably because I’m not much of a romantic about
legends and all that. Find them hard to believe.” My face turns sour, but I
don’t care.

“Not a fairytale girl then, huh?”

“You kidding? Every prince I’ve ever met turned out to be a
frog.”

I let go of the railing and walk away. My comment probably
bugged him, but I don’t want to talk about it. A slight irritation over my past
rotten love life will spoil the moment, if I do. Swiftly, I turn around and
walk backward a few steps and look at him standing there gawking at me with a
dumfounded look upon his face.

“Come on, I’ll race you to the top,
Harvard man
,” I
tease him. “Let’s see what you got.”

“Deal,” he says, taking a giant stride toward me with a
determined expression.

We start the climb up the side of the mountain together on
the dirt and rock path. Immediately, I curse myself for not being in better
shape. The strain on my calf muscles is killing me, and I’m huffing like an old
sailor. By the time we make it halfway up the climb, it’s beginning to get
embarrassing.

“Need to rest?”

He stops for a minute and looks at me. My face is sweating. Great,
now my makeup will run. “Whew! I’m a bit out of it,” I admit. “Just a minute to
catch my breath.”