Page 51 of Nothing But Air

Something cold twisted in Teague’s gut. “She’s a strong climber. We need her skills on the technical routes.”

“She is. And you do.” Liam’s hands paused on his bootlace. “But not if she’s a distraction. You know I’d look after her.”

Teague’s hands gripped the windowsill harder, wood grain biting into his palms. “No. She stays on my team.”

“My team’s covering southwest locations. Most of those are less technical, closer to base camp. Makes sense to?—”

“I said no.” The sharpness in his own voice surprised him.

Silence stretched between them. Teague could feel Liam’s gaze on the back of his neck.

“Why?”

Teague turned. Met his friend’s eyes across the small cabin. “Would you let Nimue join another team? Where you couldn’t be there if something went wrong?”

Liam’s expression shifted. “That’s different. Nimue and I?—”

“Are together. I know.” Teague grabbed his jacket from the hook by the door. Needed something to do with his hands.

“Just because Eden doesn’t care for me like that doesn’t mean I don’t care for her.” The words scraped out rougher than he intended. “If Eden’s going to be out there, I need to be able to see her. Know where she is. Make sure…” He stopped.

The admission caught in his throat.

Liam stood slowly. The cabin was quiet except for the distant sounds of people leaving their cabins—boots on gravel, low voices, screen doors creaking. “Make sure she doesn’t fall.”

The unspoken words hung between them.

About Chip. About the split second Teague had been too slow. About Eden’s story that had gutted him—her fiancé’s equipment failing, the fall that had shattered her world just like Chip’s fall had shattered his.

“I can’t—” His voice cracked.

Teague turned back to the window and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. His breath fogged the pane. “I can’t be on a different team. I can’t be hours away if something goes wrong. I can’t not know where she is, whether she’s safe?—”

“Whether you could reach her in time.” Liam’s voice was gentle. Firm. He moved to stand beside Teague at the window. “Like you couldn’t reach Chip.”

The name landed like a blow.

Teague’s shoulders hunched. The old wound tore open—always fresh, no matter how many years passed. “That’s not?—”

“That’s exactly what this is about.”

Teague pressed his forehead harder against the glass. Outside, lodgepole pines cast long shadows across the gravel paths. “This morning, watching her climb up to rescue me—” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “I was terrified. Not of falling. Of watching her take those risks to save me. Of seeing her expose herself to danger because I’d screwed up.”

He swallowed hard.

“And all I could think was—what if the rock gives out? What if her gear fails? What if I have to watch her fall and there’s nothing I can do?”

“But she didn’t fall.” Liam’s hand landed on his shoulder, solid and steady. “She climbed brilliantly. Made perfect calls. Got you down safe.”

“This time.”

“Yes. This time. Which is the only time that matters.” Liam squeezed his shoulder. “You can’t protect people from every possible future, Teague. That’s not how any of this works.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?”

Teague closed his eyes. “We’re about to head into the backcountry for days. Technical, difficult climbs. Unstable rock. Limited backup. Weather has proven this summer that it could turn in hours.” His breath fogged the glass again. “And I’m supposed to just trust that she’ll be fine? That nothing will go wrong? That I won’t have to watch another person I—” He stopped. The words too dangerous to finish.