Screw him.

Okay, maybe she hadn’t gotten rid of all her frustrations yet, but after three days she’d built up a fine head of steam, and it was going to take a bit to let this go.

The climb was steep enough that she could push thinking out of her head. Concentrate on the trail. On the blood pumping through her veins. In her ears, a rhythm pulsated—her feet like drumbeats, her pulse a living accompaniment. Each intake of breath timed to settle between the thumps.

When she reached the first lookout she slowed to a walk, sucking in air and pacing slowly to settle her breathing. She wondered if Marcus would come after her.

She wondered if she’d be able to resist kicking him if he did.

Becki grabbed onto the railing and stretched, looking over the valley. The pine forests of the foothills created a carpet of green to contrast with the gray and black of the towering Rockies, snow still clinging to their peaks. The thin line of the Bow River cut through the distance, a sliver of shining silver winding back and forth like a ribbon. She couldn’t see the falls or the main parts of the town site. Far enough up and far enough away to feel as if she were alone in the bush.

The wilderness closing in around her.

A shiver of fear whispered over her skin that annoyed her far more than Marcus’s desertion over the past days.

She was not going to be defeated. And if Marcus couldn’t be trusted to come through and help her train, she’d find someone who could. Climbing had been such an important part of her life—yeah, she’d told Marcus she was trying to find new ways to be happy, but that was partly a lie.

She wanted to do new things, but she didn’t want to give up the old. Having everything she was renowned for torn from her grasp hurt. Everything that had meant something in her life—her position, her future . . .

Dane.

Another flash of pain struck her, and she actually hissed, twisting away from the railing and preparing to run the next section of trail. Ready to run to escape the hurt.

Marcus crested the hill and slowed to a walk, approaching cautiously. His gaze fixed on her, his face blank.

At least he didn’t look ready to commit murder anymore, as he had in the change room.

She stood her ground as she waited for him. He came all the way to a stop directly in front of her. Her arms crossed involuntarily. A barrier between them less formidable than their recent emotional confrontation.

Marcus looked her over, his chest moving heavily as he caught his breath. He’d left the prosthesis off, his long-sleeved shirt dampened with sweat in spite of the cooler temperatures. His hair had gone wild from the wind, or more probably from him dragging his hand through it as she’d seen him do a number of times.

There were dark shadows under his eyes, a thick layer of scruff on his chin and upper lip, and no matter how upset she was, she couldn’t help wonder what really had happened over the past days. David had been noncommittal other than giving assurances that Marcus was fine.

“You climbed out the window,” Marcus noted blandly.

“You were being a jerk,” she rejoined.

He snorted. “Yah, well, there’s nothing new in that. Not sure why you were surprised.”

“Because it was new,” she snapped, her concern flickering and ready to die away. “That’s not the man I signed up to spend time with. So if there’s a change in situation, let me know.”

She planned to turn, to hit the trail, when he caught her arm. “Becki. I’m sorry.”

Becki wavered. Part of her didn’t want to be generous and listen. “If I call bullshit right now, I suppose I’m not being very forgiving. But you want to tell me a little more specifically what you’re sorry for?”

“I shouldn’t have shouted at you,” he admitted. “I’m still mad, and we need to talk, because I get you’re upset as well. But I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

She nodded slowly, fighting to resist sharing the internal dry commentary that noted the shouting was the least offensive part of the entire situation. Still, he was a man. That “sorry” would have cost him. She caved a little—the only area she was willing to accept he had a smidgen of a right to bitch about. “I wasn’t being careless with your team’s safety. I clearly went over the parameters of how and where they were allowed to move. And climbing a building is illegal only if you do it without permission.”

His lips twitched. “Or if it’s a world heritage site.”

“You’re never going to let me forget that incident, are you?”

His gaze heated, the staid, controlled man melting away as if memories of their nights of passion snapped to his mind as quickly as they did to hers.

Good grief. Maybe she should haul him back to her dorm room and get this out between them. The urge to strip naked was as bad as it had been seven years earlier, a pile of kindling ready to burst into an inferno.

Then thoughts of what she’d lost intruded, and the far more bitter memories of fear and terror wiped away all sexual lusts.

Dane was dead. Her memory was gone—except for the haunting dreams that had begun the night after she’d frozen on the wall. Nightmares that made her want to start running again and not stop until she was exhausted.

“Why are you looking like that?” Marcus asked, his fingers soft on her shoulder. “Becki? Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath, focusing on the ridge of clouds sneaking over the mountain range. The answer to that question was far too big a topic to break open on the side of a trail. “We should finish our workout before the weather changes.”

He withdrew his touch, staring at her silently. Becki twisted away under the guise of stretching to avoid having to meet his too-perceptive gaze any longer.

At least they weren’t ready to strangle each other anymore.

“Come on.” Becki tilted her head toward the trail. “Let’s burn off the rest of the gunk in our brains.”

Without a word, Marcus joined her.

Sharing the hard physical pain of a demanding workout was far easier than sharing the emotional turmoil inside.

* * *

He knew he should say something. Explain where he’d been, why he’d blown off training the past three days, but by the end of the run he was hurting so badly he could barely think. The entire time-delayed backlash from his episode hit at once, and he stumbled into the gym after Becki, all his concentration on putting one foot in front of the other.

Stars floated in front of his eyes as he lurched for the mats, hoping to get to them before he collapsed on the hard wooden flooring.

A cool cloth pressed against his face. Something rigid into his palm.

“Marcus. Drink.” Becki’s voice prodded him. She didn’t sound pissed anymore. That was good. He didn’t want her pissed at him.

The cool water slipped down his throat, easing the pain. Loosening the numbness until he could blink and glance around the room.

Becki squatted beside him, one hand resting on his shoulder. “You with me?”

Damn. “We taking turns blacking out now?”

“I don’t think you went anywhere, but you were a touch dazed.” She squeezed her fingers. “Now I’m the one who needs to apologize. I exploded like a crazy woman and assumed you blew off training for no good reason. That was wrong of me.”

He struggled to get the words out. He’d held them for so long it was difficult to actually come out and let someone other than David know. And why the urgent need to say anything now, to Becki, drove him, he wasn’t sure.

But he had to say something. “I have these . . . episodes every now and then. No warning, no idea how long they will last. They’re getting less frequent, though. That much is good.”

Her eyes widened. “Damn.”

Marcus shrugged. He took another few swallows before he cleared his throat. “So much for my superpowers.”

She settled back, stretching her legs in front of her. “Yeah, well. Looks like neither of us is quite who we used to be.”

He hadn’t been for a long, long time.

Marcus glanced over. There were shadows under her eyes and faint lines at the corners, but the signs of her sheer enthusiasm were also unmistakable. Her hopes of getting back into the world that had been torn from her. He couldn’t destroy that hope. Even though he’d discovered for himself there were some things you never recovered from, that didn’t mean she never could. And as long as there was hope, he would goddamn not let himself become a barrier to her dreams.

He deliberately pushed aside his personal frustrations and reached out with every bit of acting skill he had. “You’ll get there. We’ll train you. Get you back into the swing of it. You’re good, Becki. Good with the team.” Good for me. “Thanks for stepping in when I bailed.”

She nodded. “They were—something positive to focus on.”

“Were they tough days? Not just the filling-in-for-me part.”

She stared at the ceiling, biting her lip. When she turned to face him, the corners of her mouth had turned down. “Nightmares. Since I froze on the wall, I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

His skin crawled, but he kept his response to himself. “The accident?”

Becki sighed. “Yeah, but you don’t need me dumping on you.”

He caught her by the wrist when she stood. “It’s not dumping. Sounds as if you’ve been dealing with fallout from the accident for a while, and maybe the whole wall thing will finally let you move past it.”

“Still don’t need to take it out on you.”

“You want the name of a good shrink here in town?”

She pulled a face. “I’d prefer to dump on you.”