Page 146 of Nothing But Air

Life was still uncertain. There would be more hard climbs ahead. More moments of fear. More times when the path forward wasn’t clear.

But they’d face it together.

And the Rock—God—would hold them through all of it.

“Ready to head down?” Eden asked eventually.

Teague pressed a kiss to her temple.

“Lead on.”

Epilogue

The late-afternoon sun warmed the red stone beneath Liam’s boots, and heat radiated up from the plateau in shimmering waves. The air smelled of sage and dust—sharp and clean after last night’s rain. Their hike had started cool, but the afternoon desert sun had heated the air quickly.

The park would reopen tomorrow. Tourists would flood back with the first of September, their voices echoing off these ancient walls. But today, it was just them—three backcountry rangers finishing what had started as a routine summer.

Routine. Right.

Liam adjusted his pack and winced when his helmet pressed against the scar from his head injury. Almost three weeks healed, but still tender. He looked up at the rock spire ahead.

The last cache. The final piece of Roosevelt’s puzzle.

“You sure you’re up for this?” Noah fell into step beside him, his tone casual but his brown eyes assessing.

Always the big brother.

“I’m fine.” Liam grinned. “Meg cleared me for full duty. Said my hard head saved me.”

“She’s not wrong.”

Teague came up on Liam’s other side, his auburn curls a little out of control. His eyes were already scanning the route ahead with the practiced ease of someone who’d spent more of his life vertical than horizontal. “Are you two done? Because I’d like to finish this before dark.”

“Lead on, mountain goat.” Noah dropped his pack and started pulling out gear. Rope, harness, carabiners clinking together in a familiar rhythm.

“That’s ‘expert climber’ to you.” Teague was already chalking his hands, a grin tugging at his mouth. “Try to keep up, old man.”

“I’m thirty-five.”

“Like I said. Old.”

They started up the spire. The route was straightforward—good holds, solid rock, nothing technical. The limestone warmed Liam’s hands, textured and rough with good friction. Within thirty minutes, they stood at the top, a flat area maybe ten feet across.

“Here.” Satisfaction filled Teague’s voice. He pulled aside a carefully placed rock and revealed a weathered chest—just like the one Nimue had found.

Liam helped lift it out. The hinges protested with a metallic groan as he raised the lid.

Inside—gold bars. Twenty of them, gleaming in the low sun.

Teague sat back on his heels. “That’s all of them. Roosevelt’s entire cache accounted for. Too bad we lost the second chest.”

“I don’t care. I am just glad it is over.” Noah was already photographing the chest for the official report. “Started with a random tip about a bus parked too close to the rim?—”

Liam chuckled. “Thank you, Nimue.”

“—and ended with murder, helicopter rescues, and enough money to totally revamp the SAR team.” Noah lowered his phone. “Not bad for a summer’s work.”

“We saved lives.” Teague stared out at the canyon, his expression thoughtful. “Risked a few too.”