Page 9 of Wild About the Mountain Guide (Maplewood Springs #2)

Peyton

I wake up feeling more rested than I have any right to after lying on a flimsy sleeping pad all night. For a moment, I’m disoriented. This isn’t my tent, and someone is breathing nearby. Then it all comes rushing back. The tent. Knox. The way I somehow ended up with my hand…

Oh, God. Did I reach for his hand in my sleep?

The memory is fuzzy, dreamlike, but I have this distinct feeling that at some point during the night, our fingers were touching.

My cheeks burn with embarrassment, but underneath that is something else entirely: a warm flutter of happiness that I can’t quite suppress.

Knox is already awake, quietly packing his gear. When he notices me stirring, he gives me a soft smile that makes my pulse skip.

“Morning,” he says, his voice still rough with sleep. “Sleep okay?”

“Yeah, actually. Really well.” I sit up, trying to finger-comb my hair into something resembling normal. “Thanks again for sharing your tent. I promise I’m not usually such a disaster.”

“Stop apologizing, Peyton. Besides, you weren’t a disaster at all.”

Something in his tone makes me wonder if he noticed that we held hands while sleeping, but before I can analyze it, he’s already ducking out of the tent. I follow a few minutes later, after attempting to make myself look presentable.

The morning air is crisp and clean, and the others are already moving around the campsite. Harmony takes one look at me as I emerge from Knox’s tent and raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing at her lips.

“Well, well,” she says, stirring something that smells like instant coffee over the camp stove. “How did you sleep with Knox right beside you? You certainly look happy.”

Heat floods my cheeks. “It was fine,” I say, glancing at Knox, who’s pretending to be very interested in the bark of a nearby tree. “Just fine.”

It was more than fine, but I need to play it cool.

“Mmm-hmm,” Harmony hums, clearly not buying my casual tone. “That’s not what your aura is telling me, babe.”

“My aura can’t be trusted.”

“An aura as strong as yours never lies,” she replies before focusing back on her coffee.

I busy myself with packing my gear, trying to ignore the way Knox keeps stealing glances at me, and how those glances make me feel all nervous and warm.

Christine joins us for breakfast, something called “mountain scramble” that’s surprisingly edible for dehydrated camping food, and the conversation moves to today’s route.

“We’ll be crossing Maple Creek this morning,” Knox explains, pulling out his map. “Water’s running pretty fast from the snowmelt, so we’ll need to be careful. Everyone stays roped together, and we take our time.”

Brandon looks up from his phone, frowning. “My GPS says there’s a bridge about half a mile upstream.”

Knox shakes his head. “That bridge washed out last season. Trust me, I know this trail better than any app.”

“But the satellite imagery—”

“Is probably outdated,” Knox says patiently. “This is why we don’t rely on technology out here. The mountains change faster than the maps can keep up with. And if I remember correctly, you were going to try and use less tech, right?”

Brandon nods and tucks his devices away. “You’re right. Force of habit.”

Alex and Alexandra, who’ve been sharing a single bowl of oatmeal and taking turns feeding each other, look up with matching worried expressions. Luckily, her sprained ankle seems to be in way better shape after a night of rest. The swelling has gone down, and she moves much more easily.

“Is it dangerous?” she asks.

“Not if we’re smart about it,” Knox assures them. “I’ll go first, test the current and the footing. Peyton, you’ll come right behind me.”

My stomach does a little flip at being singled out, but I nod. After last night, after whatever that was between us, I trust him completely.

An hour later, we’re standing at the edge of Maple Creek, and it’s more intimidating than I expected. The water is crystal clear but moving fast, probably knee-deep in the middle, with smooth rocks on the bottom that look as slippery as ice.

Knox is already gearing up, pulling on his waterproof boots and checking the rope system.

“Remember, if anyone loses their footing, don’t panic.

The rope will hold you, and I’ll get you to the other side.

And make sure to open your pack’s hip belt.

If you do fall, your pack could sweep you away.

It’s better to lose your gear than your life. ”

He steps into the water first, moving slowly and deliberately, testing each step before committing his full weight. Watching him work with such confidence has my stomach doing somersaults. When he reaches the middle of the creek, he turns back to us.

“Okay, Peyton. Your turn.”

My heart hammers as I step into the icy water, but I focus on Knox’s voice guiding me. “That’s it. Small steps. Feel for the solid spots before you commit.”

The current is stronger than I expected, and it tugs at my legs, but I keep my eyes on Knox and trust his instructions. When I slip slightly on a mossy rock, his hand is immediately there, steadying me.

“I’ve got you,” he says, and something in his voice makes me believe he’s talking about more than crossing this creek.

Once we’re all safely on the other side, Knox helps me wring out my socks, his fingers brushing against mine as he hands them back.

“You did great. You’re getting the hang of this.”

“I have a good teacher,” I reply, and the look he gives me makes my insides go all fluttery again.

Back on the trail, Harmony falls into step beside me. She’s been quiet this morning, which is unusual for her.

“You know, I’ve been doing some energy work while we walk,” she says.

“Energy work?”

“Chakra alignment, aura reading, that sort of thing.” She glances ahead at Knox.” And I have to say, your energy and Knox’s are starting to harmonize beautifully.”

I nearly trip over a root. “They’re what?”

“Harmonizing. Synchronizing. However you want to put it.” She smiles at me. “Your chakras are aligning, babe. I can practically see the golden threads connecting your heart centers.”

“Harmony, I don’t think—”

“Oh, I know it sounds woo-woo,” she interrupts cheerfully. “But I’ve been doing this for ten years, and I know what I’m seeing. You two have a real connection. Something genuine and beautiful.”

I look at Knox, who’s pointing out some kind of bird to Christine, his face animated as he explains something about migrating patterns.

“It’s complicated,” I say finally.

“The best things usually are.” Harmony reaches over and squeezes my arm. “But don’t let fear keep you from something real, okay? The universe doesn’t give us gifts like this very often. You should grab this opportunity with both hands.”

I want to tell her she’s being ridiculous, that Knox and I barely know each other, that he’s just being professional, and I’m reading way too much into every smile and casual touch.

But then I remember the feeling of his fingers against mine in the darkness, the way he looked at me this morning, and the gentle way he said “I’ve got you” at the creek.

Maybe Harmony’s right. Maybe our chakras are aligning, no matter how out there it sounds.

Knox drops back to check on the group, falling into step on my other side. “Everything okay back here?”

“Just enjoying the scenery,” I say, which isn’t entirely a lie. The mountain views are spectacular, but mostly I’m enjoying watching him and the way he seems to genuinely care about each of us.

As we continue up the trail, I find myself walking between Knox and Harmony, listening to their conversation about local wildlife and hiking trails.

Every so often, Knox points out something interesting like a hawk circling overhead, a patch of wildflowers that won’t bloom for another month, or the peak of Mount Hartley in the distance.

And every so often, our hands brush as we navigate a narrow section of trail, or he steadies me with a touch to my elbow, and I feel that same electric spark from last night.

Maybe Harmony’s chakra talk is nonsense, but she’s not wrong about one thing: something is happening between Knox and me.

The question is, what am I going to do about it?