Page 96 of The Birthday List (Maysen Jar 1)

“Look at that.” He pointed to the glaciers cutting their way through the valleys of the high peaks. “Incredible.”

I was too fixed on his profile to take in the scenery. “You carried me.”

Cole’s eyes broke away from the view. “I’ll carry you back down too.”

“But why? Why didn’t you just turn back?”

He shrugged. “You said you needed to do this. Now you have.”

This man took my breath away.

“Cole, I . . .” As much as I wanted to thank him, to say anything, none of the words in my head were enough to convey how much this meant.

When I hadn’t been strong enough to do something myself—when the pain had been too much—he’d done it for me.

“It’s okay, Poppy.” He turned back to the view. “Just enjoy it.”

&nb

sp; “All right.” I turned and let my eyes take in everything before us. And as I studied the lake and the glaciers and the mountain, I realized something.

Maybe I didn’t have to be strong enough to banish the pain away all by myself.

Maybe being strong meant learning to lean on those who would take some of the pain away.

Like the man at my side.

By the time we made it back to the lodge, the sun had begun to set. Cole had carried me all the way down the mountain—he’d endured over four miles with me on his back. When we’d gotten to the easier part of the trail, I’d offered to walk in my socks but he’d refused to set me down no matter how much I had pleaded.

Finally, my feet hit the ground when we reached a bench outside the lodge.

“Do you want to go up to the room or would you like to grab dinner first?”

He ran a hand over his face. “I need a shower, but I’d really like to eat first so I can crash after I get cleaned up. I’m wiped.”

“Dinner it is. Just let me go grab the flip-flops I left in the truck.”

“I’ll go get them.”

“Cole, sit and take a break.” I pointed to the bench. “I can walk across a paved parking lot in my bare feet.”

He relented, digging his truck keys out of his pocket.

I took them and hustled toward the parking lot, looking over my shoulder to see him slouched on the bench. He looked more exhausted than I’d ever seen before.

All because of me.

I walked faster, my pace matching the speed of my racing thoughts.

Was I taking too much from Cole? He’d offered his help freely, but was I taking advantage? First, he’d taken on Jamie’s murder case at work. Then the birthday list and everything that came along with it. The truck. The weekend activities. The hike.

I didn’t want him to resent me by the time we’d finished the list. I didn’t want him to think that all I wanted from him was his help.

My worries were put on hold as I reached his truck. I slipped on the flip-flops I’d tossed in the backseat just in case, then hurried back so we could get Cole some much-needed calories and a well-deserved beer.

An hour later, Cole patted his stomach, having just polished off a plate of home fries and an enormous rib eye. “That was good. Not as good as your food, but still. It hit the spot.”

“Thank you.” I smiled. “Too bad there isn’t a way to serve steak in a jar.”