with the back of her hand and noticed her arms looked a bit pink. “I think I need more sunscreen.”
Even though it had been quite blustery today as they crossed a gorgeous mountain range, the sun harassed them nearly wherever they went. The only relief had been a bit of mist and cloud cover as they reached the summit.
All she wanted at the moment was to crawl into a tent, drink a gallon of water, and down a pizza. Maybe two. Ooo, and chocolate cake. With a mountain of frosting.
And yes, she knew that sounded whiny, so she didn’t say any of it out loud. Grin and bear it. That’s how she’d been raised, and that’s what she’d do.
“According to my watch, we’re approaching the second-to-last checkpoint of the day.” Marc’s fancy Fitbit had helped them keep track of their time and distance.
“I’ll just wait until then.”
Go, go, go, Angela. You’ve got this. You have to have this. You can’t chicken out now. Push through the pain. Just get it done. Get. It. Done.
They continued on, the trail twisting up and over rolling green and yellow hills. Thank goodness for the trekking poles Marc had suggested they take to help make the steep sections easier to climb. They were great for helping Angela navigate the rocky terrain and produce better balance and pacing.
At an “oomph,” Angela glanced at her sister-in-law. Though Eva tried hiding it, the grimace on her face made it clear her ankle was bothering her.
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“I can check—”
“I said I’m fine,” Eva snapped. A pause. “Sorry.”
Apparently Angela wasn’t the only one in a mood. “No worries.”
They slogged on.
Squish.
Squish.
Squish.
Would it get better or worse from here? The first day had felt like a piece of cake for all of them, really. She’d felt such a high after running the last mile into camp. Stage 2 had been much more difficult—they’d woven through numerous wineries, past a gold mine in Bannockburn, across the Kawarau River, and up, up, up a grueling seven-mile tramp into the Pisa mountain range, ending the day at Snow Farm. Angela and her burning feet had never been more grateful to see a ring of tiny tents.
The only sign that Marc was struggling with anything came from his constant side-glances at Eva. It seemed like he had something on his mind but had no idea how to say it.
In a way, Angela could relate—except in her case, she didn’t fully know what she wanted to express. It had been a fight every night at camp to force herself into her tent when all she really wanted to do was find Simon and kiss him senseless.
When had she become such a sap?
She was just tired and cranky, that’s all. Her physical condition was robbing her of her ability to think clearly, and she refused to make stupid, emotional decisions that would affect her future.
The white tent of the checkpoint came into view. “Finally.”
Eva’s scowl turned into a grin. “Race you.”
How the woman had energy for that, especially with a semi-hurting ankle, was a wonder to Angela. But the idea of cold water and an excuse to rest for a few minutes, maybe even remove her shoes and dry them out for a bit, beat out Angela’s logic. “You’re on.”
They both shoved their trekking poles into Marc’s hands and took off, leaving Marc to yell, “Thanks a lot,” which made them laugh as they sprinted. The tent got closer, and when they reached it—Eva slightly ahead of Angela—they leaned over, hands on their knees, sweat dripping down their cheeks.
Marc jogged in a few seconds after them and whistled. “You ladies are killing it.”
“Yes, they are.”
Angela straightened as if lightning had struck her in the rear. Her eyes found the source of the comment. Simon sat in a chair behind the table that held the large cooler of water. A few other volunteers milled about in their orange shirts. He rose and shook hands with Marc.
“What are you doing here?” She hadn’t meant the words to come out so abrupt. But this checkpoint was supposed to be a tiny refuge from the journey they’d been on. Once again, she wasn’t prepared to handle an interaction with him, especially with her feet throbbing, her throat dry, and her emotions on the fritz.
Simon’s eyes flashed with hurt—and something else. Determination? “I thought I could walk the last few miles with you all today. Observe you in action.”
“Aren’t all media personnel supposed to remain at camp?” Angela marched to the cooler