If he wondered why the owner of Smitten Expeditions had never rock climbed, he didn’t ask. He was about to find out anyway.
“How do the shoes feel?”
She tried to wiggle her toes. “Okay, I guess.”
“Fit is critical,” he said as he organized the equipment. “They should be comfortably tight. No room for your feet to move around. Your toes should hit the front of the shoe. It’s okay if they curl slightly. Take a few steps and make sure your heel doesn’t lift.”
She took a few steps. “Nope.”
“Are you Red Cross certified?”
“Yes, for first aid and CPR.” She’d gone through the courses with Curtis.
“Good. Okay, let’s get you outfitted.”
He had her step into the harness and showed her how to adjust it, his hands brushing her waist and thighs. “You’ll want to get familiar with the gear and check it regularly.”
She hadn’t realized how tall he was. She was no shorty at five foot six.
“A good fit will make the climber feel more secure.” A frown
marred his forehead as he worked and talked, his eyes flickering up to hers periodically. They sparkled in the sunlight. He had dark lashes that swept down across his tanned skin. His nose had a faint bump just below the bridge. His jaw was clean-shaven today, calling attention to his nicely shaped lips.
“Double back the buckle like this. Make sure it’s above the hipbones and good and snug.” His light, musky cologne teased her nose as he tugged on the harness.
She watched his hands move over the harness, double-checking. Her heart scuttled across her chest at his touch.
What in the world, Molly?
“Okay, next we rig the harness. This is the belay ring and tie-in loops. We’re going to use a follow-through figure eight.” He bent his knees, working the rope, his hands near places that made her cheeks flush.
He worked slowly, making sure she watched each loop. He repeated it, then had her try until she’d successfully completed it twice.
Next he showed her how to rig as the belayer, using his own harness. The rope led from his harness up to an invisible anchor at the top of the cliff and back down to her harness. She would be dangling from some dubious anchor.
After fitting her with a helmet, he led her over to the cliff wall. “You’ll want to start beginners on this side, especially if they’re nervous. As you can see, the face gets higher as you move that way. It’s seventy feet at its peak.”
She looked up at the wall of rock in front of her. Only twenty-five feet or so. Doable. Even if she fell, she’d survive. Right?
“The handholds and footholds are more prominent on
this side too. As you move toward the middle, it gets more challenging. Ready to give it a go?”
She wiped her damp palms down her pants. “Uh, sure.”
“Go for it.” He backed up, and she took a step toward the wall. The first holds were easy. The shoes clung to the rock, and the rope holding her stayed taut, making her feel semi-secure. After a while, the holds became less obvious. She scouted for her next reach, tried a couple of options, but they seemed too shallow.
She felt like she’d come a long way. She looked down to check. Mistake. She fixed her eyes on the jagged rock inches from her face, waiting for the dizziness to subside.
“Try your left hand about a foot up,” Gage said. “See the ledge?”
She spotted it and grasped it, the rope staying taut as she moved. Her fingers were starting to ache, and her legs trembled as her toes clung to the shelf. She needed a place for her foot, but her brain was begging for terra firma. She took a calming breath, trying to quell the rising panic.
Why had she thought she could do this? Why was he even making her? She was supposed to be on the other end of the rope. The safe end. Why did he have the easy job?
“Doing great, Molly.”
But her feet seemed glued to the ledge. And the trembling in her legs could be spotted from a commercial jetliner.
“There’s a nice toe hold for your right foot. See if you can stretch up to it.”
She forced her foot off the ledge and felt for the hold. Where was it? She gave up, her quivering calf making the call for her.
“I can’t.”
“Yes, you can. You’re only a few feet from the top. You got this.”
She glared over her shoulder. She wanted to be on the ground. Only sheer pride kept her from quitting. She wondered what that said about her. Nothing good, she was sure.
“Okay, just let go,” he called.
“Of what?”
“Everything. Just let go. Fall.”
“Are you crazy?”
“I’ve got you. I promise.”
Sure he did. He’d let go, and she’d fall to her death. Whoops.
She looked down, regretting it quickly when her heart kicked her hard in the ribs. Okay, maybe not death. A broken leg would fit the bill, though, wouldn’t it? Hard to be a tour guide when you were hobbling around on crutches.
“Feel how taut the rope is? Just let go.”
No. No way. She took a deep breath. She could find that next toehold. She could do this. But her legs were shaking so hard, and her foot wouldn’t move.
“I’ll be good,” she squeaked, sounding a lot like Noah.
She heard his warm chuckle and wanted to smack him upside the head. Unfortunately her hands were occupied, and he was too far away. Below her. Safe on the ground.
“You can do this. This equipment holds six thousand pounds, Molly. Come on. You can’t be a bit over one.” There was humor in his tone.
Was he trying to make her relax or make her angry? She was leaning toward the latter. Besides, it wasn’t the equipment she didn’t trust.
Note
to
self: earn customers’ trust before taking their lives in your hands
.
“I want you to see that you’re perfectly safe. That even if you slip, you’ll be okay. Let go. I’ve got you. I promise.”
He promised. What did that really mean? On the other hand, she was kind of at his mercy. Maybe if she went along, he’d let her come back down.
Please, God
.
She loosened her grip on the ledge one aching finger at a time. Her calves quivered at the extra pressure.
“That’s it. You can do it.”
She grabbed onto the rope with her free hand. Like that would do any good.
Come on, Molly. Just do it. You’re wearing a helmet. A broken leg wouldn’t be the end of the world
.
When her second hand peeled away from the rock, her feet lost their hold, and she swung out. A sound squeaked from her throat. Her heart thudded. Her mouth went dry. She closed her eyes tight.
But the rope held. She gripped it tight, not even letting go when she swung back into the wall. Her knee scraped the rough surface.
“You did it. Great, Molly. Catch your breath. Give your legs a chance to rest. When you’re ready to continue, find some holds and get started again. You’re almost to the top, see? Just a couple more holds and you’re there.”
She looked up. Almost to the top? It seemed like a mile.
Don’t look down. Don’t look down
. She stared at the jagged rock in front of her nose and focused on breathing.
In. Out. You’re going to be fine
.
The harness cut into her thighs. Her butt probably looked the size of a Volkswagen from below.
Really, Molly? You’re dangling midair like a trout on a fishing line, and that’s what you’re worried about?
She took a moment to catch her breath, forced her grip to loosen from the rope, resting her fingers. She could do this. She was almost to the top, right? The sooner she finished, the sooner she could get down.
She sighted some good holds, making a mental path to the top, then went to work. Gage encouraged her, keeping the rope taut. Her legs still quivered, and her heart still thrashed around her chest, but she made herself finish.
When she reached the top, she’d never been so relieved in her life.
“Great job, Molly.” He explained how to rappel down the face. The first push off was scary, and she came awkwardly back to the wall, banging her knee. But there was only one way down. Her limbs were tired, making her movements clumsy. She pushed off again, this time catching her weight with her feet.
“There you go. You got this.”
By the time her feet hit the ground, she felt as if she’d scaled Mount Everest. She took a couple of wobbly steps. Gage was beaming at her.
“I think I’d rather have your job.”
“Well, that’s fortunate for you, because you do.”
A young lady should take care with her appearance, always showing herself to be neat and attractive.
P
EARL
C
HAMBERS
,
The Gentlewoman’s Guide to Love and Courtship
CHAPTER FOUR
M
olly stood behind her desk, looking over Heather’s shoulder as she punched numbers into the calculator. The stack of bills was high, and business had been down last month. This wasn’t going to be good.
“Could you maybe stand somewhere else?” Heather said.
“Sorry.” Molly backed off. “I just know it’s not good.”
“Let’s just hang on and see where we are.”
Heather was right. Besides, what good would worry do? It wouldn’t put more money in her account. It wouldn’t attract more customers. And it sure wouldn’t save her home.
“I just don’t know how I got here, to this point where everything’s in jeopardy.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. Curtis, God love him, made some bad decisions, and you’re doing your best to rectify them.”
The subject of her late husband’s dishonesty opened a
hole in her gut. Finding out after he was gone that he’d put their home on the line had been awful. She’d felt confused and betrayed. How could he have hidden such a big thing from her? Forged her name? And she couldn’t even confront him for answers. If she hadn’t had Heather to talk it through with, she would’ve gone crazy.
“How are you doing with all that?” Heather had been staring at her, no doubt reading her every thought.
“I’ve forgiven him and I’m moving on. What choice do I have? He’s not here and . . .” She gestured to the financials. “I’ve got a mess to fix.”
Heather studied her another moment. “God has been faithful, and he’ll see you through the rest of this.”
“You’re right.” She just had to trust him. That was easier said than done these days.
“Hey, did Lia ever give you Pearl’s book to read?”
“Oh yeah.” She’d been reading
Love and Courtship
at night after Noah was in bed. “I haven’t stumbled across a treasure map, but there’s sure some crazy advice in there.”
“We’ve come a long way, baby.” Heather shoved the laptop at Molly. “Here. Occupy yourself. It’s going to be a little while.”
Molly took one of the chairs in front of the desk, her muscles protesting as she lowered herself into it. Even two days after climbing, she hurt. On the bright side, her tour yesterday had gone fabulously. Although, truth be told, the honeymooners hardly noticed her existence.
There had been one moment when she’d guided the woman too far to the left of the cliff, and the rope had gotten hung up on a ledge. She’d been stuck dangling helplessly
for a few minutes. But nobody had died. Nobody had even complained or demanded a refund. Things were looking up.
She opened the laptop and checked her e-mail, frowning as she read Abby’s.
Did you see this?
When Molly clicked on the link, she landed on a Trip Advisor page.
Smitten Expeditions
was in bold black letters with a rating beside it—1 out of 5.
There were two reviews, a two-star and a zero. She hadn’t even known a zero was possible. She read the reviews, frowning.
Horrible service . . . bad instructions .
. .
terrible experience
. She read on.
I can’t say enough about the guide. Enough bad things, that is. To say she was incompetent would be the biggest understatement of the century. My grandma could’ve done better. Stay away from this place. It’s a joke
.
Molly gasped.
The
refund, people! You could’ve mentioned the refund
. Why did people have to be so mean? So personal?
“What is it?” Heather asked.
“Abby sent me a link to a review. The revenge of the white-water group.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. Those people act like you ruined their lives. It was a tour.”
“But it’s Trip Advisor. They’re my only two reviews, and now I have a one-star rating. Listen to this. ‘This trip was so horrible, words aren’t adequate. The guide couldn’t have rowed her way out of a bathtub.’”
“Ouch.”
A knock sounded on the doorframe. Molly looked over her shoulder and found Gage standing in the open doorway. Great. Just great. Of course this was the moment Mr. Success would appear.
Molly pursed her lips. “We’re closed.” She’d turned the sign but must’ve forgotten to lock up.
His blue eyes warmed. “I didn’t stop by for a guided hike.” His gaze drifted to Heather, and he greeted her before turning his attention to Molly. She was reluctantly impressed at how quickly he’d turned away from Heather’s beauty.
“How’d the climb go yesterday?”
“Very well. Thanks again for your help.”
He took a couple of steps in, bringing his manly smell with him. The room shrank two sizes, and it was already the size of a shoe box.
Conscious of the reviews on the screen, Molly closed her laptop as he neared. He’d already heard enough.
“Any problems?”
“None at all.” She wasn’t going to mention the rope incident. Could’ve happened to anyone.
Heather stood, the chair rolling out behind her. “You know, I need to call Abby. She left me a voice mail.”
Molly glared at Heather’s retreating back as Gage perched on the corner of the desk. Molly’s eyes flittered to the financials spread across it. They’d probably taught reading upside down at the fancy college he’d no doubt attended.
“What’s next on your schedule? I have some time in the morning if you need more lessons.”
She eased around her desk and casually gathered the sensitive material before sitting in her cushy desk chair. “Canoeing tomorrow afternoon. But I think I can handle it.” Outside the office she heard Heather greet Abby.