My Own Mr. Darcy (6 page)

“This part of the trail was
closed for almost a year when I was kid,” Chad said. “A huge mudslide covered
the trail and it took them more than a year to clear it out and make it
passable again.”

We stopped at Benson
Footbridge and shared some trail mix before we turned onto the Larch Mountain
Trail. Occasionally, other hikers passed us, having taken the loop the opposite
way. 

Rocks and roots made portions
of the trail precarious. I placed my feet carefully to avoid twisting my ankle.
Two teenage girls overtook us, laughing and jostling each other as they went.

“I guess we’re just old
and slow,” I said.

“Or older and wiser,” said
Chad.

Just a minute later, one
of the girls tripped and fell. Her scream echoed against the hillside. Her
friend stood over her, hopping from one foot to the other while shaking out her
hands. “What should I do? What should I do?” the hopping girl asked.

Chad and I hurried up the
trail to where the hurt girl was sitting on the ground. Where just moments ago,
she’d looked young and strong, now she looked fragile—pale and scared. She held
her arm gingerly as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Chad knelt down beside the
injured girl and talked quietly. “Hey, that was quite a move there. Don’t cry.
Let’s take a look at this.”

“What’s wrong with it?”
She looked at Chad with fearful eyes as her voice rose hysterically.

“Just stay calm. It’s
going to be okay. Do you think we can get your jacket off?”

Chad’s calm voice quieted
the girl to a whimper. He gently helped her take her arm out of the jacket. I
choked back a gasp when I saw her arm and the girl started crying harder again.
Halfway between her elbow and wrist, her arm bent upward at an unnatural angle.
My stomach turned over at the sight of it.

“It’s not supposed to bend
there. What’s wrong with it?” the girl cried. Her friend knelt beside her and
rubbed her back but kept her eyes focused somewhere down the trail.

“You’re going to be fine,”
Chad said, his voice calm and soothing. “You’ve broken the bone. That’s all. Happens
all the time. We’ll get you to a doctor and he’ll fix you up good as new.”

“It hurts so bad,” the
girl said.

“Should I go for help?”
her friend asked.

“No,” Chad said. “We just
have to get her off the mountain. We can have you down and on your way to the
hospital before help could even get up here. My name’s Chad, by the way. And
this is my friend, Lizzie. What are your names?”

“Kamrie,” the injured girl
said.

“I’m Faith,” said her
friend.

“All right, Kamrie. We’ll
help you get to the bottom, okay?”

Kamrie nodded. “Okay.”

“Let’s leave your other
arm in your jacket and keep it over your shoulder to keep you warm.”

I took off my jacket.
“Here. Tie this around her to keep her arm steady,” I said.

“Good thinking.” Chad took
the jacket. “It will hurt a lot less if it isn’t moving around with every step.
Okay?”

“Okay.” Kamrie wiped her
tears with her sleeve.

Chad helped Kamrie to her
feet and carefully draped her jacket around her. I held it over her shoulder
while Chad wrapped my jacket around her and tied the sleeves to keep it snug.
“How does that feel?”

“A little better.”

“Let’s keep going that
way. I’m pretty sure we’re more than halfway and it’ll be shorter to keep
going.” Chad held Kamrie’s good arm and guided her down the trail.

Faith and I followed. Kamrie
cried out when an awkward step jarred  her arm, but Chad held her steady. “Just
go slow and easy. We’re not in a hurry. So where are you two from?” he asked.

“We live in The Dalles.” Kamrie’s
voice held pain but she was calmer.

“Lizzie and I live in Portland.
Do you hike here often?”

“This is my first time.”

“Sad. I hope it won’t be
your last. It’s a beautiful trail.” Chad kept up a quiet conversation all the
way down the hill. It helped keep Kamrie distracted and moving. I was
impressed. Chad was great under pressure.

“Your boyfriend’s really
nice,” Faith whispered to me.

“We’re just friends. But
he is nice, isn’t he?” I said.

“And really cute. Maybe
you should make him your boyfriend.”

I laughed but her words
made me look at Chad. Really look at him. She was right. Chad was cute. His dark
blond hair was cut short. He was tall and athletic and now that he’d told me, I
could see he had the body of a swimmer—broad shoulders, narrow waist. Several
times he looked back at me and smiled. I felt Faith’s eyes on me and my cheeks
got hot. What was that about? Chad wasn’t my boyfriend and Faith was a teenage
girl. Was I twelve?

A little over an hour
later, we made it back to the Multnomah Lodge parking lot and Kamrie’s car. “Are
you okay driving her to the hospital?” Chad asked Faith.

“Sure,” Faith said. “We’ll
call her mom and have her meet us at the Emergency Room.”

“Thanks for helping me,” Kamrie
said. “Oh, and don’t forget your jacket.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I
said. “Keep it on until you get to the hospital.”

“But . . .”

“Really. Just keep it. I
don’t want you to move your arm around until you get to the hospital.”

Chad helped Kamrie into
the seatbelt.

“Thanks Chad. Thanks Lizzie,”
Kamrie said. “I’m sorry I ruined your hike.

“Are you kidding?” I said.
“You made it an adventure.”

Kamrie smiled. “You guys
are too nice.”

“Come on, Kamrie,” Faith
said. “Let’s get you to the hospital.”

We watched them turn out
of the parking lot. They weren’t even onto the main road before Chad put his
jacket around my shoulders. I looked at him, surprised.

“Goose bumps,” he said,
pointing to my arms. He was right. I smiled as I slid my arms into the sleeves,
still warm from Chad. “Sorry I didn’t realize you were cold before. I’d have
given it to you up on the trail?”

“I wasn’t cold when we
were moving,” I said. “Besides, you were occupied.”

“I hope you’re hungry
because I’m starving.”

“Me, too.”

“The lodge makes great
chicken stew. Let’s go get a bowl.”

Entering Multnomah Lodge
was like entering a medieval pub—wood beams, stone fireplace, and plaster
walls. Arched doorways led to a warm room with rustic wooden tables. The
waitress seated us by a tall window with an impressive view of the colorful
mountain.

The chicken stew was rich
and hearty and came with warm crusty rolls, butter, and local Marionberry jam. I
was spreading my second roll with butter when I noticed Chad was watching me, smiling.

“This is so good.” I held
up the roll.

“I’m glad you like it. It’s
one of my favorite meals,” Chad said. “Wait until you taste the blackberry pie
and ice cream. The crust has little sugar crystals baked onto it. It’s
delicious.”

“Mmm. I’d better save some
room,” I said.

He was right. The pie was
luscious.

“You would have made a
good paramedic,” I said between bites. “You were really good with her and you
didn’t panic at all when you saw her arm. I just about lost it when she took
her jacket off.”

“It looked pretty scary.”

“Have you ever seen a
break like that before?”

“Not in person.”

“Well, she was lucky you
were there.”

Maybe it was the food or
the cozy restaurant. Or maybe it was because Chad was so pleasant and
talkative. Whatever it was, I felt comfortable and happy.

This was a milestone for
me. Whether Janessa was letting me count it or not, this was three dates with
the same man. I’d never done that before. I’d always declined after one or two
dates. It wasn’t because I didn’t think I could have fun dating a variety of
guys. It was because I didn’t want to risk liking the wrong guy or worse,
having him like me. I didn’t want to be a girl who led guys on and since I was
holding out for a very specific man, it was better to keep things short and
sweet.

In spite of the day’s
crisis, I’d had a good time. I was glad if I was going to have to fulfill
Janessa’s silly, ten-date requirement, at least it was with a decent guy like Chad.

“Do you ever miss high
school?” Chad asked.

“Not at all,” I said.

“Oh, come on. You know you
miss all those good times.”

“Right. I miss the drama
and the homework and definitely the cliques. I miss those most of all.”

“I’ll bet you miss the
dances.”

“I didn’t go to very many
school dances. A Christmas dance my junior year and prom my senior year. Sorry.
I don’t miss those either.”

“You never went to a Sadie
Hawkins dance?” Chad had a mischievous smile on his face.

“No?” I said slowly.

“Well then, you’re in
luck.”

“Why am I feeling really
unlucky right now?” I asked.

Chad laughed. “I have to
chaperone the Sadie Hawkins dance next weekend. I can go alone if I have to,
but I think I’d have a lot more fun if you went with me.”

“
You
might have
more fun, but what about me?” I said.

“Come on. Are you saying
I’m not fun?” Chad asked.

“You’re not the problem
here. The problem is you’re inviting me to a high school dance. I might
hyperventilate just thinking about it.”

“I don’t want to be the
cause of any maladies, but you might actually have fun. This could be a good
opportunity to face your fears.”

I laughed. “I’m not afraid
of high school dances. Well, maybe a little.” I took a sip of water. “If you’re
taking me to a high school dance, aren’t you supposed to ask me in some
dramatic, over-the-top way?”

“Darn, I guess I dropped
the ball. I should have sent you on a scavenger hunt around Portland and had
you end up at the Paul Bunyan statue where you’d find a message taped to his
shoelace.”

“Did you really do that?”

“I did. I sent her all
over Portland.”

“Wow. How long did it take
you to set it up?”

“Hours and hours. No
wonder the girl wasn’t very interested. I probably cost her $25.00 in gas.”

I laughed. “How did she
answer?”

“She had her brother tie a
note that said ‘yes’ to my shoes during a swim meet.”

“After all your hard work,
that’s all she did?”

“Yep. She probably didn’t
want to spend any more time and money.”

“I guess I should be
thanking you for just asking me and sparing me the tour of Portland.”

“So? Will you go with me?”

I sighed. “I suppose. But
if it’s Sadie Hawkins, isn’t the girl supposed to ask.”

“Okay. Go ahead. Ask me.”
I rolled my eyes. “I promise I’ll say yes,” Chad said. His crooked smile was
way too cute.

“Chad, will you go with me
to Sadie Hawkins?”

“I’d love to. Thanks for
asking. By the way, where are you taking me to dinner?”