Far Country (53 page)

           
“Well, you’re too late, I’m afraid,” she informed him firmly.  “These two
are both spoken for,” She turned to Kelly and took her hands in her own. “I’m
so glad you were able to stay for the party, my dear, but it’s getting late and
you will need to be on the road early if you want to get back in time to be
with your family for Christmas dinner. Looking both startled and relieved to
have Mrs. Bolton come to her rescue, Kelly returned the smile and rose to her
feet.  “You’re right, of course.  It was a lovely evening, Mrs.
Bolton. Thank you for inviting us.”

           
“My pleasure, Kelly. Come visit again if you are ever in town.  No
invitation required.”

           
David had only been half following this exchange, but at the sound of her name,
his attention sharpened and he looked more closely at Kelly. “I know you,” he
said with a slight frown on his handsome face. “You’re the banjo loving dog
lady from Hanging Rock!”  He studied her with a slow meaningful smile. “I
kind of thought you were more interested in me than you let on.  What
a…coincidence…to find you waiting under my Christmas tree – like you were
special ordered right out of the Sears Wish Book!” 

           
Kelly grimaced. “I’m afraid you’re reading the gift tag wrong,” she told him
firmly. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I have to be leaving now.” She turned
back to Lee Ann who was looking slightly shocked by her son’s comments. “It
really was a wonderful party, and thank you again for the return invitation.
Good night.”

           
Deborah and Pete took their
queue
from Lee Ann, and
got to their feet to stand with Kelly. They, too, thanked Lee Ann for inviting
them to the party.  Deborah took Kelly’s arm. “Let’s go find our coats,”
She suggested, and maneuvered Kelly safely around David and out of the living
room.

           
They headed off to the guest bedroom/office near the front door, where most of
the coats had been tossed on the foldout sofa bed. Kelly glanced over her
shoulder as they walked across the hall, and was relieved to see that David had
remained on the couch talking with his mother, and showed no sign of following
them.

           
Seeing David safely occupied and judging that the office was reasonably safe
from prying eyes, Steve slipped in behind them and gave Kelly a reassuring
hug.  “You okay?” he asked.

           
Kelly rolled her eyes and made a face at his concern. “
Puhleeeze
! 
He’s not the first inebriated idiot to make a pass at me at a party!”

           
“Hmmm.” Steve frowned in mock concern. “I’m not sure how I feel about that
statement.”   He glanced at Pete and Deborah, who were buttoning
their coats. “You going back to the Graham’s house with Deborah and Pete?” He
asked

           
She shrugged.  “Retreat seems the better part of valor tonight. He’s too
drunk to reason with, and it will just make everyone uncomfortable if he keeps
this up. We’ll hang out there until you’re done here.” She smiled a little
sadly. “Tell Gracie that I am sorry I couldn’t stay and watch her open
presents.”

           
Steve smiled and kissed her on the nose. “I will. And I’ll be along as soon as
she’s tucked into bed.” He wrapped her in a bear hug. “See you soon,” He
promised. He released her and turned to head back to the living room to join
his daughter.  Instead, his eyes met David’s, who lounged carelessly
against the doorframe. He looked from Steve to Kelly.

           
“That’s what I thought,” he growled in disgust. “You never can resist trying to
steal my girlfriends, can you?”

They stood at the base of the
rock wall. Not the Knife Edge, or even Indian Face. Not even a particularly
high wall.  Even so, a sheen of perspiration dampened Steve’s forehead and
upper lip. 
And
the back of my neck
and
my
armpits…
! Steve noted mentally, acutely aware of how his body was reacting
to the thought of his attempting to climb to the top.  His hands – no, his
whole body – was shaking.  He felt dizzy and weak kneed.

           
It was March. There were still patches of snow all around them, but here in
this ravine, the sun shone directly on the rock wall most of the day. It wasn’t
an ideal time of year for rock climbing, but spring would be upon them in just
a few more weeks.  Steve knew that he needed to overcome his vertigo, and
soon. Even so, he didn’t particularly want to be here.

           
At least he was with Pete, Steve reasoned. Pete would understand this phobia he
was dealing with. Chuck on the other hand…Chuck expected Steve to be able to
handle rock rescues. For all his easygoing appearance, Chuck took his lead ranger
position seriously, and made his team train constantly for all sorts of rescue
situations. It was why Chuck always seemed so laid back. He was confident they
could handle almost any rescue situation that came along.

           
Training would begin again in mid April, as soon as the last of the frost had
come out of the ground most of the snow melt was gone. If he wasn’t ready to do
his part by then, Steve had no doubt Chuck would push him off the cliff and
leave him dangling in harness until Steve was forced to climb out on his own.
So, reluctantly, he had cajoled Pete into accompanying him on this trial run.
Pete was such an encourager that Steve figured if he did nothing more than sit
in his harness a few times, Pete would be content that he had made a start.

           
And right now, Pete stood beside him, waiting patiently, his concern for Steve
apparent in his intent brown eyes. At the moment, Steve didn’t like Pete very
well. He didn’t like anyone to see him shaking with nerves.

           
 “This is embarrassing,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at the solid
wall before him.

           
“No,” Pete contradicted him. “It’s normal. People who have lived through plane
crashes are seldom in a hurry to fly again
any time
soon.”

           
Steve wiped his sweaty palms on his shirt.  He looked down at the sturdy
nylon harness he wore. The climbing shoes, the helmet; all the equipment was so
familiar to him, and once such a source of enjoyment, yet he desperately wanted
to strip it all off and cast it into a blazing fire!

           
Pete surreptitiously watched Steve’s expression change from trepidation to
revulsion to barely controlled panic as he rechecked the equipment.  For
the first time, his certainty that Steve could overcome his phobia of rock
climbing, and eventually even rappelling, wavered. This wasn’t just a casual
case of nerves! 

           
Pete smiled at Steve, projecting a level of confidence he didn’t feel.  “The
skill is still there, Steve. You are a natural climber. It will come back. You
can do this!”

           
“Easy as falling off a log,” Steve rejoined through gritted teeth. “Only the
falling part isn't  what I’m having problems with- it's the
landing
....”

           
“But you can get past it. You just need to start trusting yourself.” Pete
affirmed.

           
Steve looked up the cliff and then looked away, instantly unnerved and
nauseous. His voice wavered. “I – I can’t do this right now.”

           
Pete looked at the sky and counted to ten. “Okay," he said at last. We’ll
give you a couple of minutes, and then we’ll try again.”

           
Steve tugged on the harness as if it was pinching him. “Are you sure the
equipment is good?” He asked doubtfully.

           
“Steve, the equipment is fine. Besides, the equipment didn’t fail you. You were
attacked. It’s not the same thing.”

           
Steve stood by the wall and looked up again. Sickness washed through him and he
looked away.  “I’m not going to be able to do this,” he said flatly.

           
“You can!” Pete insisted. “You
know
how to do this. Don’t think so much
about it, just do it.”

           
Steve reached up again, but once more imagined himself plummeting toward the
rocks strewn around him.” He backed away and shook his head. “I don’t want to
do this today. Maybe tomorrow…”

           
“Oh for
heavens
sake!” Pete exclaimed in
exasperation. “You win! We won’t climb it!”

           
Relief flooded Steve. “Really?”

           
“Really,” Pete said emphatically. “But since we are here and NOT climbing,
practice hooking and unhooking from the rope.”

           
Steve glared at Pete in irritation. “I don’t have a problem with snapping on,
just with heights.”

           
Pete crossed his arms. “Humor me. I took the time to set up the ropes and to
hike out here with you.  It seems that you could do that much without
whining.”

           
Anger flared in Steve’s face. “Whining? I don’t…I’m not!...” He set his lips in
a thin line. “Fine,” he muttered.

           
Steve grasped the rope and hefted the D ring.  “Snap on, snap off. There,
satisfied?”

           
“Do it again.”

           
Steve rolled his eyes, but snatched up the rope again. Snap on, snap off.

           
“Again.”

           
Steve repeated the movement in icy silence.

           
“Again.”

           
Steve exploded. “This is pointless! Why are you making me do this?”

           
Pete shrugged, unmoved by his outburst. “It worked for the Karate Kid.”

A long silence followed.

           
Steve’s cheeks flushed red and his eyes narrowed. “Are you making fun of me?”
He asked quietly.

           
Pete ignored the question. “You’ve quit shaking,” he observed just as quietly.
“Now, put some weight on the rope.”

           
Steve realized that Pete was right. Guardedly, Steve grasped the rope and
leaned back.  A wave of dizziness swept through him and he closed his
eyes, clenching the rope with his hands until his knuckles turned white.

           
“It’s all right,” Pete reassured him.  “Try it from ‘snap on’.”

           
Wordlessly, Steve snapped free, took a few deep breaths, then he reached for
the rope.

           
Several tries later, familiarity and repetitive movement dulled his senses, and
he found himself braced against the rope and staring at the cloudless blue sky
above, his body nearly relaxed.

           
“Hey, Daniel-son! Quit slacking and take it up a couple of feet.”

           
Steve thrust down the tremor that ran through him as he visualized himself
falling from halfway up the cliff wall.  He swallowed. “I thought you said
we weren’t climbing.”

           
“
We’re
not.
You
are. One inch at a time, if necessary. And just
as an incentive, the pack you carried out here is empty.  I left all the
food and camping gear at the top of the wall when we anchored off earlier.”

           
Steve turned in stared at Pete in astonishment. “You’re way tougher than I
thought you’d be,” he groused.

           
Pete did not smile. “Which is why you wanted me to come on this ‘test’ climb instead
of Chuck.  I’m not stupid.” Pete stepped close to Steve and his voice grew
hard and intense.  “You figured you’d end up chickening out, and because
I’m your Christian friend, you figured I’d have more compassion. I’d feel sorry
for you and let you fail.  But since I
am
your friend, that’s the
one thing I’m
not
going to let you do! Now quit stalling and move up
five feet.”

           
The afternoon wore on. Eventually Steve was climbing the rock wall, struggling
to calm his erratic breathing.
Keep moving
. He reached tentatively for
the next hand hold.  It took all of his will to drag his body up.  He
blinked and looked up. The top was an easy thirty feet above him.  He was
barely twenty feet off the ground!  Steve set his jaw and willed his hands
and feet to search for the next hold.  His foot slipped, sending a drizzle
of pebbles down on Pete’s head.  He flattened his body and clung
desperately to the wall, unable to open his eyes for several minutes.

           
Eventually he heard a scrabbling noise near him. Slowly he opened his eyes.
Pete had climbed in just a couple minutes what had taken him an hour to achieve
on his own.

           
Pete’s face remained impassive. “Move your right foot about six inches higher,
and to the left.”

           
Steve nodded and let out a jagged cleansing breath. Slowly he lifted his right
foot and found the crevasse in the rock that Pete had directed him to.

           
“Good,” Pete praised him. “Now the left hand.”

           
“Where?” Steve gasped.

           
“Feel for it,” Pete ordered him calmly.

           
Steve gritted his teeth.  He moved his left hand up, feeling with his
fingers for a crack or fissure.