“You honor me,” he said.
I swallowed. It wasn’t my fault if he went to prison, wasn’t my fault if someone there hurt him. But the truth was, it wasn’t mercy that kept me mute or stayed my hand.
I’d found in Hunter a kindred, broken soul. We didn’t fit in with the rest of society and never really would—but neither did we deserve to be locked away or abused for our issues. We hadn’t asked to be this way. All we wanted now was to live in peace.
In his own fucked up way, he’d honored me that day at the motel. He’d picked me instead of anyone, he’d plucked me out of my nothingness.
I rested my forehead against his.
“Let’s go,” I murmured.
His body released its tension, reveling and accepting. “Where to?”
“I have something to show you.”
Chapter Fifteen
Niagara Falls Ontario Canada is known as the Honeymoon Capital of the world.
Hunter found us a hotel that had an overflow lot for his truck, and we went back to Niagara Falls the next day. We covered the same ground, the same tours, the same boat ride, and I found it all the more exciting with Hunter’s sardonic presence.
As we disembarked from the Maiden, I asked the lady at the desk whether she knew of Sarah who worked there.
“She’d be new,” I explained. “Just hired.”
The woman shook her head. “I don’t think so. But I don’t run orientation, so I wouldn’t really know.”
I hoped Sarah had taken the car and gone home. The falls were beautiful, but I knew that any place could be a cage if you felt trapped.
Hunter surprised me by stepping forward. “Excuse me, do you have any trail maps for hiking in the national park?”
“Of course.” The woman slid a glance down his body. “I’m guessing you’re looking for the more advanced trail routes.”
I blinked. Was she flirting?
“You might say that. Just looking for a great view.” He pulled me close.
The woman eyed his hand around my waist then grinned. “Understood. You know, if you’re really hardcore, there’s a whole route mapped out. They call it a self-guided tour. You hike and camp on your own but the maps will guide you as you go. It takes you all around the whirlpool and the hotspots in the park.”
His eyes lit up. “That would be perfect.”
Hardcore? Oh yeah, that was him.
We wove through the crowds while Hunter started ticking off all the things we’d need for the trip. I was silent—speechless, really. Astonished at the easy way he donned a solicitous manner with her. That was him, I realized. The old Hunter who had gone to seminary school and counseled families. And maybe the true Hunter still underneath all those rough, jagged edges.
I was surprised, too, that the woman didn’t see what he was. I supposed he looked handsome and rugged in the waffle tee and faded jeans, with an ever-present layer of scruff on his jaw. If she sensed any of his wildness, it only gave him a more compelling edge. Something different from the dads who emerged from minivans in the parking lot around us in polos and khaki pants.
We found an outdoorsy store nearby and loaded up on new clothes and gear, trying on clothes and making faces at the ones we didn’t like. Hunter snagged me in one of the dressing rooms for a kiss. As if we were a couple. The idea of us as a normal couple was…quite frankly, terrifying. But also amazing, and I suspected the two always came as a pair.
The world looked different in the park. If the gorgeous view of the falls were the front parlor, then the park was the family room—less impressive but more relaxing. It was the same thing we’d done in the smaller waterfalls where we’d stood in the water and looked down, although this place was much more expansive and these rivers were miles away from the falls themselves.
The ground we covered turned orange, the skies grew vibrant.
We walked a hundred steps carved into rock to reach the peak of a mountain, and the view had stolen my breath. Or maybe that was because the air was thinner there, but I felt rooted to the spot, indelibly planted into the ground, connected to the earth in a startling and soulful bond. This was the Niagara I had dreamed about, the true wonder that hadn’t been commercialized.
Hunter was affected too. Some of the lines in his face had eased, the russet glow painting his face with wonder. But despite our auspicious beginning, he became increasingly distant as time passed. Considering Hunter was already so thoroughly contained, that was saying something.
He grew more pensive. Sadder with each passing day. The physical strain of the climbs and the harsh environment acted as buffers. It was hard for me to talk, much less convince him to open up, but with every step, it became clearer I would have to. We set up the tent and opened up the top. Sex beneath the stars, murmured conversation about the vistas or animals we’d come across, and then sleeping wrapped up in his arms. Bliss, if I wasn’t sure something dark brewed beneath the surface.
Now my whole body ached with newfound activity. My throat was dry. Hunter held out the canteen without looking over. I took a gulp and returned it to his outstretched hand. He insisted on carrying the bulk of the gear.
I covered my eyes with my hand and squinted at the trail ahead. As far as the eye could see, there were shades of orange and yellow, golden rock and a blinding sunset. Far in the distance I could see heavy clouds and the slanted stripes of rain. There were a hundred different climates here, flash floods beside a desert, but it had been a full day since we’d met the river.
Dizziness distorted my vision. My foot landed on loose pebbles, and I skidded down the incline a few feet before Hunter’s firm grasp caught me. He set me right again.
“You okay?” His voice was gruff, dry from the dusty air.
“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.”
He grunted and continued ahead.
His head bent low, skin beaded with sweat. The start of a beard obscured his expression, but I knew his mouth would be drawn tight, lips parched. We were both at the ends of our endurance, though his physical strength far surpassed my own.
The little safety class we’d taken warned us that people still died here every year, and though I doubted it would come to that, neither did we need a case of acute exhaustion. We wouldn’t reach the basin with its shops and watered campgrounds before nightfall, which meant another night of camp.
We should bed down now so we didn’t lose too much water, but Hunter seemed hell-bent on going forward, like he was trying to get away from something. Or trying to drown the darkness in exhaustion.
He shortened his strides for me, but I still struggled to keep up. Unlike some of the other straggling groups we sometimes waved to in passing, he and I stayed close, within five feet at all times. It was a safety precaution, both physical and emotional. He was my ship in a tempestuous sea. I was the talisman he kissed before a storm. Even distracted and discontent, he always kept me close.
My breath began to come in pants, my vision blurry. He rounded a corner, and relieved to hide my weakness for a moment, I leaned back against the jagged rockface. As a testament to how bad off I was, the cool prodding of rock into my back felt relaxing, massaging out some of the kinks in my muscles. Even my skin felt tight—parched.
“Evie?”
I blinked and Hunter came into focus. He looked worried.
“Hi.”
“Shit,” he said. “God fucking damn it, why didn’t you tell me you were dehydrated?”
I frowned. “I just had a drink.”
He wasn’t listening though. He steered me down from the small ledge we’d been walking and onto the dirt. I let him lead me beneath a tree and lay me down on one of the sleeping bags. Sitting down beside me, he lifted my head and helped me drink.
Nausea assailed me. I pushed the bottle away.
He produced a washcloth from our pack and poured water from the canteen.
“No,” I protested. “There won’t be enough.”
He shushed me, pressing the cloth gently on the overheated skin of my neck, cooling me down with every soft wipe. “Then I’ll be thirsty.”