He had just lighted the burner on his stove when he heard voices, and he stood up for a better view. Karen's group was coming over the edge of the rocky basin as they followed the trail up from Timberline Lake. They were moving slowly. Jeff appeared to be limping and his backpack was missing. Brian turned down the flame on his stove and made his way across the rocky terrain to meet the small group.
"Are you guys all right?" he called as he drew closer.
Karen started to answer, but Russ cut her off. "We're okay. Jeff twisted his ankle back at that last creek crossing and we stashed his pack so he could make it here. I'm going to go back to get it now that we're here."
"Do you need a hand?"
"Naw, it's not far." Russ waved him off.
"It's no problem," said Brian. "I'll get my pack and we'll split the weight."
"It's okay, I got it." There was a slight tone of scornful amusement in Russ' voice, as if to say, "Split the weight? Don't be ridiculous."
Jeff, his face lined with pain, slowly lowered himself onto a large rock next to the trail as they talked.
"You can help us get Jeff settled, Brian," Karen said.
"Okay." Brian's response came quickly and he glimpsed a fleeting look of consternation on Russ' face. He had to fight to keep from smiling. Gonna hafta exercise those brain muscles once in a while, big guy.
Russ lowered his pack to the ground and tipped it toward Brian. "Here, go ahead and take my pack. I'll be back in a little while." He looked directly at Brian when he spoke, putting a slight emphasis on the word "back".
"Yes, you will," said Karen as she put a hand on one of his thick shoulders and pushed him gently back in the direction they had come, "but only if you get going."
As Russ hurried away, Karen turned and gave the others an embarrassed shrug. "What can I say? He's a little cranky today. Must be the altitude."
They found places for two more tents some fifty yards from Brian's tent and began setting up the camp as Jeff supervised from a seat on a chunk of granite. Karen pulled a tent in its stuff sack from Russ's pack as Carla spread out a nylon ground sheet.
"Turn it so the door faces this way," Jeff said to the girls.
"I think you hurt your ankle on purpose so you wouldn't lose the tent pitching contest again," Carla said as she smoothed the ground sheet.
"That's me, all right. I'd sacrifice most any part of my body to save face."
"Tent pitching contest?" Brian glanced from Jeff to Carla.
"Yesterday we had a race to see who could get their tent set up first," Karen broke in. "The girls won by a pole."
"So--" A realization came to Brian as the blue dome began to take shape. A grin that he couldn't keep inside began to spread across his face. "Which tent is this?"
"This is mine and Russ's tent," Jeff said.
"And we could still probably set this one up faster than you guys," said Karen.
"So the boys sleep in this one . . . " Brian left the sentence go unfinished.
"Yeah, and the girls sleep in the other one," Karen said. "How did you think it worked? And what're you smiling about?"
"Nothing, nothing. Why don't you give me what bottles you have and I'll take them down and pump water."
Carla dug the bottles out of their packs along with the water filter and Brian gathered them into his arms and headed for the lake. After a few moments he heard Jeff make a low comment, followed by a bright laugh from Carla. Karen's voice raised in protest, "Shut up." Brian could hear the smile in her voice and he would've been willing to pump ten more bottles just to know what Jeff said.
He found a rock that let him sit close to the water without getting the seat of his shorts wet. Pumping was maddeningly tedious. The water just trickled into the bottles and he had to be careful to keep the suction inlet above the bottom of the lake to avoid pulling in muck that would clog the filter. At least he could watch the sky as the sun dropped behind a rugged shoulder of Red Spur, a 13,183-foot mountain to the west. He had the last bottle almost filled when he heard a light step on the rocks behind him. He glanced back over his shoulder.
"Hey," said Russ.
"Oh . . . hey." Brian was caught off guard. "Uh . . . guess you got Jeff's pack okay, huh?"
"Yeah." Russ sat down on a rock, his eyes locked on his hands that kept folding and unfolding as if his thick brown fingers were having some kind of argument. "Listen, I'm sorry I sort of gave you a hard time before. I don't know, I guess I get kind of weird about Karen sometimes."
"S'all right," Brian said, then he smiled. "Can't say I blame you."
"Yeah . . . well . . . no hard feelings?"
"No hard feelings. You want to give me hand with these bottles?"
"Sure." Russ stepped forward and picked up two of the full bottles. Brian finished with the last bottle and screwed the lid on tight before bagging the filter in its nylon mesh sack and getting stiffly to his feet. Sitting hunched in one position on a rock for twenty minutes after a thirteen-mile hike was not the best way to relax. He tucked the other two bottles under one arm and slung the mesh bag over his shoulder.
"So, what kind of writer do you want to be?" Russ asked as they walked back to camp.
"I enjoy historical fiction more than anything. I'm working on my teaching credential so I can eat while I try to get published."
"Karen says it's a tough business to break into."
"Yeah, she's right. The way she's doing it is probably smarter. She can work as a staff writer somewhere and hone her skills on the job instead of writing only when she can find time. It's a good move," Brian admitted.
They arrived back at the camp as dusk settled into the basin to find the second tent, a green and tan dome, already pitched and a stove waiting for a pot of water to be set to boil. Jeff and the two girls were busy with little camp chores; a little too busy in Brian's opinion. Karen had taken the braid out of her hair and it covered her scar as it had the first time he'd seen her. Brian set his bottles down next to Russ's two and put the filter on a nearby rock. From the corner of his eye he saw Karen favor Russ with a look like a proud mother. Russ gave her a small shrug and Brian guessed that she had put him up to the apology.
"Hey, Brian," said Jeff. "Since you pumped our water tonight, why don't you bring what ever freeze-dried concoction you had planned for your dinner and eat with us?"
"Yeah," Carla said. "You don't want to eat alone. You've probably had enough of that on this trip."
Brian stole a quick glance at Karen, who was halfway into the girl's tent on her hands and knees, arranging sleeping bags or something. Was there a slight pause in her movements at Jeff's invitation?
He turned to Russ, who gestured toward Brian's camp. "Go get it and come on," said Russ.
Brian had to admit the idea sounded better than eating alone. "Okay, you twisted my arm." He went to his camp and returned with package of turkey tetrazini. It was added to the fettucine Alfredo Jeff was cooking. The fluttering hiss of the stove was a pleasant sound in the stillness.
"It's funny," Jeff said as he used a tiny flashlight to watch the noodles cooking, "how when you're backpacking you come up with food ideas you'd never think of at home."
"I think it becomes an issue of quantity over quality," said Brian, "although variety has its strong points."
Russ knelt next to the stove and let the aromatic steam rise in his face.
"Mmmm, I vote for quantity."
"Here, here," Brian said as he raised his sierra cup. "To quantity." Jeff lifted the spoon he was stirring with and clinked it against Brian's cup. "To quantity," he echoed.
A brilliant flash and a burst of laughter made them turn their heads. Karen and Carla stood near their dome tent. Carla had a camera to her face that flashed again as the three young men turned.
"Thanks a lot!" Jeff said. "Nothing like having a big blue spot in front of your face for an hour or two."
"Did you ever notice," Karen said to Carla, "how in the city the boys always want the girls to cook, but in the mountains the boys won't let the girls near the food?"
"Survival of the fittest, baby," said Russ as turned his attention back to the bubbling pot. "I have to be strong enough to carry you out of here if the going gets too tough."
"Oooo," Carla, Jeff and Brian chorused.
"Carry me?" Karen's mouth dropped open and she blinked several times in the fading light. "Excuse me? If the going gets that tough, I'll send somebody back for you."
Russ snorted over his shoulder. "Yeah, right. Like that's going to happen."
Karen stepped forward with the odd, almost masculine swagger Brian had noticed two days before. "I--" she started to respond, and then her mouth snapped closed. Russ stood up, turning from the stove to face her. Brian felt a sudden shift in the tone of the banter. They looked like they were squaring off to fight.
"Hey, guys," said Jeff, "if anybody needs to be carried out it's going to be me. I don't know if I'm going to be able to walk on this--" he stuck his left foot out in front of him with a wince "--let alone carry a pack tomorrow."
"We'll work something out," Russ answered without taking his eyes off Karen.
The pot on the stove boiled over with a hiss and Karen brushed past him to kneel quickly as she reached for the valve on the fuel bottle. The side of her wrist brushed the hot stove and with a tiny "Ouch!", she jerked her hand back and put the burned spot in her mouth. Russ backed away a step or two, but offered no regrets at the accident.
"Oh, man, I'm sorry, I should've been watching that," said Jeff as he turned the flame down himself. "I'm sorry."
"No, it's not your fault," she said as she flashed an expressionless glance toward Russ, "I should've been more careful. It's okay."
"Here," Brian picked up one of the plastic bottles filled with icy lake water and handed it to her, "hold this on it."
"Thanks." She turned and sat down a small boulder.
Carla pointed the beam of Jeff's flashlight into the steaming pot. "Looks like dinner is about done." She took the bowls and cups offered by the others and held them as Jeff spooned the noodle mixture into each one. When Jeff filled Karen's plastic cup, Russ took it from him and wrapped a bandana around it, then carefully turned and handed it to Karen. Brian heard him murmur something that sounded like "I'm sorry" as he knelt beside her with the cup. Brian couldn't hear her response, but it must have been favorable because Russ reached out and touched her knee, and she smiled at him when he stood up.
Carla lit a candle lantern and set it on a rock in the middle of the group.
"Jeff's got a point," she said as they all began to eat. "What if his foot keeps him from hiking tomorrow?"
"I think we'll have to eat him," Brian said.
Jeff laughed. "Watch out, I might give you gas."
"You've got enough to go around," said Russ. "If we didn't stake our tent down every night, we'd float away like a balloon by morning."
"Eeewww!" Carla made a face as the others laughed. "And I thought all those noises were from you guys snoring!"
The candle flame in the lantern burned steady and bright. It gave an illusion of warmth to the night. Brian was always amazed at how much illumination one candle could give when there were no other light sources to compare it to. "Hey, Jeff, how'd you hurt your foot anyway?" he asked.
"Remember that last log across Whitney Creek? The real shaky one? I was almost across and I lost my balance, so I jumped for the bank. A rock turned under my foot when I landed and my ankle went 'crick'. I guess I forgot I had a thirty-pound pack on."
"You guys are still planning on spending the night on Whitney, right?" In the yellow light of the candle, Brian looked around at the others and then back to Jeff. "I'm only going up for the day and I'm leaving most of my stuff here in my tent, so I'd be glad to carry your pack up."
"Are you sure?" Jeff asked him. "Because that would be great. It might make the difference between staying here an extra day and getting out when we planned.
"You don't have to do that," said Russ. "We can split the weight between all of us."
"Yeah, you could, but why add weight to your packs? It makes more sense to let me carry it, don't you think?"
"Just out of personal selfishness, I say let Brian carry it," Carla said. "I have a feeling I'll have all I can handle with my own pack tomorrow." She looked over the heads of the group where the black mass of the mountain blotted out the stars to the east. "If I have any extra weight you might end up carrying me too."
"All right then," Brian said.
Karen finished her dinner and set her cup on the ground. "I'll clean the pot," she said. With her spoon she began scraping at the remnants of the tetrazini Alfredo that still clung to the inside of the cooled pot. "There's still a few spoonfuls in here. Anybody want seconds?"
"Pass," Brian said.
"Guys?" She looked to Russ and Jeff.
"Go for it," Jeff told Russ. Russ handed his bowl to Karen and she spooned the last of the noodle mix into it.
Watching her serve him, Brian suddenly felt the need to be alone. "Well, it's been a long day," he said, rising to his feet. "I'm going to take my cup and go home. Lemme know how your foot is in the morning," he told Jeff. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."
