Beck made a face. “Pine needle tea?”
Reed shrugged, undaunted, undimmed. “I understand it’s not too bad. We might even like it.”
“He’s not going to make us eat b-bugs and worms, is he?”
Reed wouldn’t give up that playful smile. “Mm, you might like those too.”
She drew a breath to make a snide comment—
“We’d better get going.” He folded up the map and tucked it away in one of his backpack’s many zippered compartments, then hefted the pack to his shoulders and put his arms through the straps.
She followed his cue, and Reed held the pack aloft as she wrestled and squirmed her way into the straps. The thing wasn’t as heavy as it looked—and then again, maybe it was.
Reed led the way across the gravel parking lot to the trailhead. Beck followed, looking back once to be sure she hadn’t left anything behind, besides her sanity. The SUV sat there all by itself, like a faithful dog sitting in the driveway watching his masters leave.
“You’re gonna roast in that jacket,” Reed observed.
Beck regarded her fringed buckskin jacket, a gift from her father— he was an outdoors nut too. She never wore it, but for this outing, it seemed appropriate. “S-so I want to be Daniel B-boone, all right?”
“You’ll be carrying it.”
“Just look out for yourself, Mr. Know-It-All.”
Reed kept walking, a spring in his step despite the load on his back. He was so pleased Beck was sure he had a screw loose. “Yeah, this is just what we need.”
What I need, you mean! Part of her could have, peradventure, at a better time, admitted he was right, but right now she wasn’t in the mood to admit anything.
The moment came. Feeling like a Neil Armstrong, Beck followed her adventurous husband and took that One Small Step out of the parking lot and onto the trail. Other steps came after that, and she looked back twice before the deepening forest hid the familiar world from view.
Then, looking back no more, she pressed on, leaving one world for another.
Frank E. Peretti, The Oath
(Series: # )
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