“I know.” Fresh tears rolled down her cheek, and Brett’s heart squeezed tight. For her. And for Dan. He couldn’t imagine the pain of losing a loved one under such tragic circumstances. “What you’re doing,” she said softly, her gaze steady on Dan’s, “traveling to the places you and Marcie wanted to go…I hope you’ll get to see all of them. For both your sakes.”
“Me, too, Dan,” said Eileen, and Brett and the others chimed in with similar sentiments.
Dan pressed his lips together then cleared his throat. “Thank you. All of you. I appreciate the kind words.” He gave a shaky smile. “But I feel like I’ve cast a pall over the party.”
“No,” Paolo said quickly. “It is in the talking about our lives, in the sharing of our hopes and dreams and pains that we find answers and comfort and peace. And those can often be found not only in those closest to us, but in the presence of strangers, as well.”
Paolo rose and swept his hand toward the area behind them. “Your tents are all prepared, and you will find a flashlight in each one. You can retire, or remain around the fire if you wish. There is water in the kitchen tent for teeth-brushing and face-washing. Please do not wander from the campsite, nor go any further away than the bathroom tent. Normally we break up into two groups at this time-men and women. Ana will escort the ladies to the bathroom while the men brush their teeth here, then we’ll switch. After that, if you go anywhere, bring your flashlight and do not go alone. If you need anything or experience any problems, do not hesitate to awaken me or Alberto, Ana or Miguel. We will wake you early to begin our second day, which, I will warn you, is the most difficult day of the hike. I wish you all a good night and a good sleep.”
Everyone rose and made their way toward the tents. Brett’s gaze remained fixed on Kayla and his insides tightened with sympathy at her bleak expression. Clearly talking about the circumstances of her father’s death had upset her. She reminded him of a deflated balloon. He approached her slowly, uncertain of what to say or do and cursed his inexperience in dealing with such a situation. Certainly the least he could do was offer his sympathy.
Before he could speak, however, she raised her damp gaze to his and said in a voice that sounded so sad and inexorably weary, it broke his heart, “After the bathroom break…I’m sorry, but I think I’d like to just go to sleep.” Without another word, she headed toward her tent, which he noted was next to the one outside which his gear was stacked.
She looked so…lost, so tired and upset. Sympathy and an entire flood of other feelings he couldn’t name washed through him as he watched her dejected form disappear down the path toward the bathroom tent, following Ana and the other women. He wanted to comfort her, to erase that bleak sadness from her beautiful eyes, but he didn’t know how, especially without it seeming as if his ulterior motive was to get her into bed.
And while Brett couldn’t name the unsettling feelings coursing through him, the very depth at which they grabbed him and wouldn’t let go scared the living daylights out of him.
15
WITH THE washing-up and teeth-brushing finished, Kayla should have been ready to crawl into her tent and pass out cold from weariness. Yet as achingly tired as her body was, her mind was revving at full speed and she knew sleep wouldn’t come. The memories had escaped from the corner of her soul where she normally kept them carefully locked away, and she knew from experience that there’d be no putting them back to rest until she’d dealt with them.
Adding to her distress was her promise to Brett of a massage and spending the night together, but she simply felt too drained to deliver, both emotionally and physically. Which would leave him in the lurch and quite possibly piss him off. But it was just as well. It wasn’t as if their affair could go anywhere. What difference did it make if it ended now or three days from now?
It shouldn’t make a difference, damn it, but the fact that it did indicated that she’d foolishly allowed herself to become emotionally involved. Which, if it were with anyone other than Brett, wouldn’t be a problem. But with Brett-a man she’d lied to since the moment she’d met him? Big problem.
Kneeling in front of her tent, she glanced around, noting that everyone was settling in for the night. Her gaze settled on Ashley, who was squeezing her sleeping bag into Shawn’s small tent. She looked up, saw Kayla and waved goodnight. Kayla returned the gesture, then turned toward Brett’s tent. The flaps were closed. Probably he’d already turned in.
Was he upset with her? Most likely, and she didn’t blame him. She glanced around and barely made out Ana in the shadows of the kitchen tent. After putting away her toiletries, she unrolled her sleeping bag, but the thought of lying down didn’t appeal at all. She glanced over her shoulder at the still-crackling fire and rose to her feet.
Stepping over the log that served as a bench, she sank to the ground and rested her back against the thick, rounded wood. She drew up her legs, wrapped her arms around her knees, and stared into the dancing flames, trying to empty her mind, but failing completely.
Several minutes passed, the murmurs of voices quieting down until the only sound that remained was that of the fire. Warmth from the flames eased over her body, but did nothing to warm the sad, lonely chill in her heart.
Footsteps sounded behind her. She turned and stilled at the sight of Brett, holding a plastic mug from which a tempting curl of steam rose. He stared down at her for several seconds, then moved forward, stepping over the log to stand in front of her. Hunkering down on his haunches, he extended the cup.
“It’s tea,” he said, his voice filled with quiet concern that matched the look in his eyes. “I thought maybe you’d like something hot and soothing to drink.”
“Thank you.” She barely managed to push the words past the lump that lodged in her throat at the kind gesture. Wrapping her cold hands around the warm mug, she forced herself to meet his gaze. “Brett, I’m sorry-”
He touched his fingers to her lips, stopping her words. “Please don’t apologize. There’s no need. I’m the one who’s sorry. For not knowing what to say or do to comfort you.” His fingers slid away and he regarded her through very serious eyes. “If you’d like some company, someone to talk to, or even just to sit silently with you so you’re not out here alone, I’d be happy to join you. But if you want to be alone, I understand.”
To her mortification, hot tears welled in her eyes. She looked away, but he’d clearly seen the sheen because he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a hanky.
“Here you go,” he said, handing her the folded white square.
As she had no tissues, Kayla set down her mug, accepted the offering and wiped her face. “I didn’t know men still carried hankies.”
“Habit I picked up from my grandfather. Came in handy while growing up because I always seemed to have a head cold.” One corner of his mouth quirked upward. “You can imagine what a babe magnet I was.”
A huff of unexpected laughter escaped her. “You clearly improved with age.”
“Thanks. But believe me, I had nowhere to go but up.”
She made another swipe under her eyes which, much to her embarrassment, continued to leak silent tears. “You know, in spite of overwhelming evidence to the contrary, I’m not a weepy female.”
“I believe you.”
Based on the sincerity in his gaze, he did. Which only made her feel worse because while her “I’m not a weepy female” statement was true-usually-she’d deceived him from the moment they’d met. She certainly didn’t deserve to have him believe her. This brought on a fresh onslaught of tears. Damn it, she hoped she’d run out soon.
He reached out and took the hanky from her less-than-steady fingers, then gently dabbed at her eyes. “Jesus, Kayla, you’re breaking my heart. Tell me what I can do to help. To make you feel better. I don’t want to leave you like this. Can I sit with you?”