know better. “But blast it all, Angela, I can’t. Not with you. I know it’s not fair to put this on you now, here, but at some point we need to talk.”
A few yards ahead, Eva glanced back at Angela. She could probably hear every word.
This was so confusing—because Angela didn’t have the answers. She didn’t know how to be a friend to Simon when all she wanted was to throw herself into his embrace.
Oh, who cared about the rules? “No, we don’t.” Angela broke into a run.
She needed to get away. From Simon, from the pain of walking seventy-five miles in three days, from her pathetic excuses.
From Wes.
This was all his fault. All of it. If he’d only listened to her. If he hadn’t been drawn in by Brent’s adventures. If he’d seen the blessings in front of him—his wife, his children—and hadn’t gone gallivanting around the country.
If he’d stayed, Angela wouldn’t be here right now, racing like a rabid dog was nipping at her heels, Marc and Eva yelling at her to come back, the wind stinging her eyes.
She’d be back in New York with him, homeschooling her kids, attending church, talking with God, being with her friends, growing old with the man she’d given up everything for.
Angela’s lungs burned as she blew past the checkpoint and straight for the tent assigned to her. She dove inside, zipped the door shut, unhooked her backpack, and plopped onto the thin tented floor. Then she pulled her knees to her chest and raked in dry, ragged breaths.
* * *
What had Angela been thinking?
Ignoring the spasm in her ankle, Eva stalked past tents 98, 99, and 100, until she finally arrived at 101. Her stomach still felt folded over on itself, as it had when she’d watched Angela barrel ahead of them and cross the Stage 3 finish line—alone.
She’d nearly disqualified them by crossing without her teammates. In fact, she had, but Marc and Simon had managed to smooth things over.
A quick peek into tent 101 showed it empty of all but Angela’s gear. Where was she?
Even though Eva had gotten closer to Angela, she still had no clue what was really going through her sister-in-law’s mind. Was she so hung up on Simon that she was willing to throw away this opportunity—for all of them?
“You looking for the gal who was in that tent?”
Eva turned to find a woman with a southern accent and blonde dreadlocks sitting outside tent 102 using a kit to treat blisters on her feet. “Yeah, actually. Do you know where she went?”
“That way.” She pointed around the bend, down toward a wooded lake. “She looked real upset. I asked if she was all right and she kind of blew me off.”
Of course she had. Not nice, Eva. Something is clearly wrong. “Thank you so much.”
She weaved through the rows of one-person tents, all low to the ground and fairly plain. Each camp had been set up with small round tables with backless stools where participants could eat, play cards, and chat together during camp hours. The camp already burst with activity.
Eva took a trail with tall brush on either side that sloped downward. She shouldn’t have raced Angela earlier—her ankle had throbbed ever since. Marc had noticed her limping a bit, but she’d shrugged it off as a blister. He didn’t need to be concerned about anything except pacing them and making sure they reached their destinations on time each day. Of course, neither of them had thought to worry about Angela breaking one of the only rules that could get a team thrown out of the race.
Eva clenched her hands into fists. Upset or not, Angela needed to know how much she’d endangered their mission here today.
Gray and red rocks rose around Eva as she dropped toward the silver-blue water. She rounded the corner and found her sister-in-law leaning against a large boulder at the lake’s edge. Upon Eva’s approach, Angela didn’t move.
Folding her arms across her chest, Eva waited. Was Angela going to apologize? Or did she even realize what she’d done? If they’d been forced to quit, they wouldn’t have reached their goal of a million dollars raised. They’d have done all this training only to be disqualified. They’d have dishonored Brent’s and Wes’s memories.
That was unacceptable.
Out here, by the lake, they were isolated from the sounds of camp—the banging of pots, the white noise emanating from the propane stoves used for heating water, the din of good-spirited chatter after a long