Chapter Fourteen

The best lucky charm ever.

Yeah, for them possibly. For myself, not so much.

Now that we'd been through the whole reservation process, I needed to send a note to the in-flight magazine editors to let them know that they weren't completely correct about the wait time for the terrifying climb. They could inform their readers that a phone call apparently could result in a much-sooner experience.

"You talked to an actual person?" I didn't even know that was a thing anymore, but I didn't think AI was advanced enough to have the conversation Ansel just completed. He got someone to look over their schedule and find a spot for not just one person but three. If I didn't drop dead of fear the second I got a look at the actual location.

The pictures in the magazine were scary, but the people looked so happy and comfortable. They did not allow anyone under sixteen, and minors had to have a parent or guardian sign for them. But there were all ages above that, including one man who had to be someone's old, old grandpa. Okay, he looked way more fit than me, but he had to be at least seventy or more. And he was hanging by one arm.

I tried to put tomorrow's plan out of mind, hoping something would happen to cancel our trip. Maybe the person whose reservation we got really hadn't intended to back out and would ask for their spots back? Unlikely, but a girl could hope. Climbing the stairs to my room, I was wondering if there was any way I could sneak out of the house and grab an Uber to the airport.

Showering and dressing for bed, I put a plan together in my mind. I'd wait until the bears were asleep and then make my call and tiptoe downstairs. I could have the car pick me up down the street and… And a glance out the window showed me how unlikely that would be. We were a good distance from any other house; in fact, I couldn't see the next one, and there were no streetlights. For a city girl like me? Wandering out there with not just shifter bears but probably real ones or wolves or raccoons or coyotes or…

No, if I was going to make that break, it would have to be right in front of the house, so I could order the car after the bears were snoozing in their dens and then hope they didn't hear it arrive. I hated the idea of sneaking away like a coward but it was cowardice making me do it. If they saw me melt down at the climb tomorrow, they'd be so humiliated to be seen with me. I could afford an economy flight home. Barely.

It was for their benefit I was leaving before that happened. Picking up my phone, I sat on the side of the bed and opened the rideshare app. I entered the address and got a notice of no service. Downloading the other rideshare apps I could think of, one by one, I learned that this rural neighborhood outside the city limits was not served by any.

Defeated in my attempt, I had to admit to a measure of relief. Ansel and Edward would have to see me at my scaredy cat worst tomorrow, but I'd try not to make a scene. Flicking off the light, I crawled under the covers and snuggled down for what might be my only night in this house. I was afraid I'd be up all night, but my emotional uproar had worn me out, and my eyes closed.

Sleep was deep and filled with images of all the people I disappointed before and would likely in the near future. I stood at the base of a mountain covered with that birthday cake sprinkle frosting with a staircase that ran right up the side. It was also covered with the slippery frosting and I was being urged to climb. All the people stood around insisting that I do it, and when asked about the harness or carabiners I'd read about, they all laughed and taunted me. I had no way out but to do what they all demanded of me.

But at every step, my feet slipped out from under me, and I got nowhere while my mother and brothers and sisters-in-law called me names and shouted at me to hurry up. Nobody else seemed inclined to climb, only me, and although I hadn't made any progress that I could identify, I was suddenly thousands of feet in the air, the stairs suspended away from the mountain but still covered with frosting. I gripped the slippery railing and cried out as it swayed. A gale whipped up, and the stairs were suddenly no longer connected at the bottom so it swung and spun. Although I clung as tightly as I could, fingernails scraping through the sticky, sprinkle-infested goo, it didn't even slow me down. I plummeted, falling backward, arms and legs flailing. I screamed my throat raw. Then suddenly, I couldn't move my arms and legs. I'd broken them all. I was paralyzed…maybe dead!

"Monroe, sweetheart." The voice cut into my screams. "Female, wake up."

Slowly I came back to realize where I was and what was keeping me from moving. Not the bare-chested men on either side of me, looking down with concern. I was tangled in bedding and had thrashed my way into immobility.

Hell. Looked like I didn't have to wait until morning to make an embarrassment of myself.