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‘To the bridge?’
‘Seriously?’
There was a moment when she almost felt sorry for him. ‘You underestimate me at your peril.’
Then there was no more talking.
They were evenly matched...at least, at first. She met him stride for stride and only when the path narrowed did she fall behind a little. All the better to get another view of those amazing muscles. He was either a climber, or he worked out. No one had that kind of upper-body strength just by lifting gurneys.
But when he sensed her close behind him he pulled sharply to the right to let her join him again. The bridge was in sight. She let him think she was going to let the friendly camaraderie continue, then, with fifty metres to go, she sprinted out. Hard. Fast.
He got there at the same time. Laughing, reaching for the stone wall to tag. ‘Well, you’re fast, that’s for sure.’
She decided not to tell him her reasons for running these days. Some things should be kept private. Besides, she could barely manage words. She hauled gulp after gulp of air as she bent over, hands on knees. ‘Ran for...Otago. Back...in...the day. School...cross-country champion.’
‘What? Like, last year?’
‘Over ten years ago.’ She pulled up, hands on hips. ‘I know, I know, everyone always says I look young...but I’m as old as Methuselah really. Twenty-nine. Believe me... I’ve lived a little.’
‘Ach, the wild child of Queenstown?’
Hardly. She’d been married at twenty-three. Felt ancient at twenty-five when she’d unexpectedly hit most of the ageing milestones far too soon—a married woman and then a widow. Sadly, the family bit had passed her by. ‘Not quite. Let’s just say, it’s been an interesting ride.’
Without discussing where they were headed they started to walk back towards Queenstown centre. Yes, she could easily have run, but she didn’t want to tire the poor thing out. ‘And you? A wild child of...?’
‘Duncraggen.’ He tipped his head back and laughed. ‘The only thing that’s wild up there is the weather. Oh, and the sheep.’
‘Where’s that? Dun...crabbing?’
‘The very tip of Loch Lomond, a tiny wee village near Inverarnan. Not a lot about it, really.’
‘So Queenstown must be the big scary metropolis, then?’
‘I did live in Edinburgh for a while. And I have travelled a fair bit...in my youth.’ He made a creaking sound. ‘But now, young whippersnapper, I’m over the hill.’
‘Oh, don’t be too hard on yourself.’ Where was this coming from? It felt natural to joke with him. ‘You don’t look a day over seventy.’
‘Cheeky.’ He threw her a sideways look and she could see laughter in his eyes. It was so nice to see that. A man who didn’t take himself too seriously.
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