Wide Open Spaces

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Colt paused in his climb, blotting sweat from his brow as he swung free above a creek he could no longer hear babbling. He hadn’t climbed since his last trek out of the jungle, fifteen months ago. That terrain had been soft—nothing like this granite. His legs cramped and his arms felt weighted. At the same time, he was exhilarated as he surveyed the view this elevation afforded.

Flashes across the canyon momentarily blinded him. Sun reflecting off Summer’s binoculars. He remembered the concern in her voice when she called to him after he’d rappelled down the rocks. Was she still worried about him? He felt a ripple of something—was it pleasure? It’d been a long while since anyone, except the teammates from his former military unit, cared what happened to him.

For a few seconds, Colt savored the welcome thought. Then a cloud drifted across the sun, blanking out the flash from the other side. The shadow might as well have been a bucket of cold water; it had the same effect on Colt. Even if Summer Marsh was inclined to care for him, which was iffy, he had nothing to offer her in return. She’d soon have three million bucks in the bank. He didn’t have enough savings to buy even a hundred acres of this land.

Removing his cap, Colt stuffed it in his pocket. He untied his neckerchief and banded it around his forehead to stop the flow of sweat. Facing the crux, the most difficult pitch of any climb, he drove in another chock before creeping higher.