Ghosts of July (Shamans of the Divide, Book 1)

Chapter Sixteen

We walked slowly among the small trees and thick bushes and he didn't say anything. More than anything I wanted to break the silence. But I always broke the silence and for once I wanted Renn to say something that wasn't prodded, poked, or forced from him. I wanted him to tell me what was going on.

I kept my eyes forward on the loose gravel path but tried to sneak glances at him as we walked. His eyes were forward and more than once, he ran his fingers through his hair.

"This is crazy, July," he finally said. "This is so damn crazy that if I were you, I'd turn around, get in that car of yours and drive all the way to Denver. Stop in Shades long enough to grab your grandmother and then get the hell out, no looking back until you got back to your old life."

He seemed sort of sad. I could hear it in his voice. A few months ago, that'd be all I ever wanted out of life—my old life back. The table my friends sat at every day for lunch for two and a half years, the same parties I'd gone to since I was a freshman, the college I'd planned to go to with Taylor, near three of my close friends. None of that was there anymore.

"I wouldn't have anything to go back to anyway."

Renn's eyes were on me. My cheeks warmed under the intensity of his gaze and I finally turned to face him when he stopped walking.

"When we first met, I wasn't sure if you were brave or just really stupid," he said. I frowned and considered a reply. But he went on. "But I knew right away you weren't stupid. You're really, really brave and you might be everything we're looking for. Everything I'm looking for. But I wish you were just a stupid girl playing games."

"You've said that already, Renn." I was getting sick of him dropping stupid girl more than once in front of me.

"I know. I'm sorry."

His hand pulled me along and we started walking again. The undergrowth grew thicker and greener and it wasn't long until we reached a wide creek.

"Yellowbelly River?" I asked as I dug my heels in. I wasn't moving forward until he could promise me there'd be no snakes.

"A very narrow portion," he said and dragged me forward a few inches before my feet started moving on their own again. "And there might come a day when you miss the fact that your biggest fear was a venom-less snake."

We got close to the fast-moving water and found a seat on a truck-sized flat rock. I jumped up, happy to be as far off the ground as possible, and Renn followed. I wrapped my arms around my knees and watched the bubbling water flow by.

I listened to him breathing. Despite the sound of rushing water, I could hear him drawing breath in and blowing it out slowly.

"I'm going to talk," he finally said. "And I know you're going to have questions before I finish my first sentence."

I couldn't argue that, so I shrugged and gave him a nod.

"But you need to let me just get this out, as crazy as it's going to sound," he said. "And then you can slap me or jump in that creek and swim your way home, or you can jump in your car and drive away as fast as you can and never talk to me again. But I need you to hear me out first. Okay?"

I nodded, unsure of what I was getting myself into and really nervous about what he was going to say.

He started talking then. His eyes were out on the water watching the same creek drift by, but he seemed thousands of miles away. He stayed like that the entire time he talked, never turning to gauge my reaction.

"Have you ever heard of the Continental Divide?"

I nodded. I'd hiked it with my mom the summer after sixth grade. I was pretty sure my souvenir t-shirt was at the bottom of my closet at Nana's house still.