Megs Hill, a climbing legend, was the founder of the Team. Kenzie had always thought of her as a bit of a hardass, but the kindness she’d shown Harrison during his recovery from the Everest disaster had proven to Kenzie that Megs had a soft side—one she kept well hidden.
Winona picked up the phone. “I’m going to call Brandon back and make sure he knows about Camp Mato Sapa. It’s up there, too, not too far from Ski Scarlet. My brother and Naomi are up there with forty kids. That’s a lot of people to evacuate in an emergency.”
“Good idea.”
Win dialed the number, stood with the phone to her ear, her face slowly folding into a frown. “No answer. I guess they’re busy.”
Gabe tiedthe top rope into his harness and climbed the ladder. Today’s lesson was about trust and teamwork. His job was to provide a little humor relief and to prove to the kids that they wouldn’t get hurt if they fell. If he impressed his wife in the meantime, so much the better. She would reward him in the bedroom.
Katwaswatching. She sat on a blanket beneath a nearby pine, Noelle playing beside her, the two older kids running about near the tipi.
On the ground, Chaska was on belay and had taken up Gabe’s slack. Gabe started across the high rope, twenty-five feet off the ground, using the guide ropes to steady himself, his blade prosthetic not intended for this. But he’d done his share of slacklining, and this was easier.
“See how he holds onto the guide ropes to steady himself?” Chaska looked up at him. “You know what would happen if he fell?”
That was Gabe’s cue.
He pitched forward, letting himself fall—and jerked to a stop in mid-air.
Kids gasped, stared up at him, eyes wide.
Old Man Belcourt—Chaska’s grandfather—chuckled.
“Nothing happened. See how the rope goes through that pulley and then down to me? I’m on belay, and that means that I’ll stop him from falling. He couldn’t get to the ground now if he wanted to.”
Gabe stretched for the ground, flailed his arms and legs. “Let me down!”
Now the children were laughing, too.
Chaska lowered Gabe to the ground. “I know this is new and different from anything you’ve done before, but that’s what this camp is all about, isn’t it? Who wants to be the first to cross the high rope?”
One of the younger girls stepped forward, a shy smile on her face, hand raised.
“Way to go, Mona. Let’s get you ready.”
One of the counselors got little Mona into a child’s harness.
Gabe untied himself from the rope and knelt to tie Mona in. “You don’t have to worry. We won’t let you get hurt. You’re going to have fun.”
Fearless, Mona climbed up the ladder as Gabe had done, followed by the camp counselor who stood on the platform behind her, encouraging her.
Mona took hold of the guide ropes, hesitating for a moment. The other kids watched in amazed silence as she took one step and then another. She froze out in the middle, looking down at the ground as if realizing for the first time how far away it was.
Chaska coached her through it. “Don’t look down if it scares you. Look at your feet and the rope beneath them. You’re doing great.”
Mona shook off her nerves and moved carefully to the other side, a big smile of triumph on her face as she set foot on the platform.
“Well done, Mona!” Chaska called up to her.
The man was going to make a great dad.
Old Man Belcourt was waiting for Mona at the bottom of the ladder. “You showed courage going first, but are you sure one of your ancestors isn’t Iktomi? Spider Girl. That’s what I’m gonna call you from now on.”
Gabe knew a lot more about Navajo—or Diné—culture than he did Lakota culture, thanks to Kat and years of traveling back and forth between Denver and the Diné reservation. Still, he was pretty sure that Iktomi was a spider trickster spirit. Old Man Belcourt had complimented Mona.
The little girl looked delighted.
“Who’s next?” Chaska called.