A Match Made in Montana

He opened the wrapper of his bar with his teeth. “Did you see the movie 127 Hours?”

“Uh-uh...” She wished she had time for movies, but she didn’t.

“It was about a rock climber who had to cut off his own arm.”

“Oh!” She nodded. “I remember that—the guy in Utah, right?”

“As a rock climber, first, it kind of scared the crap out of me, to be honest. But second, it reminded me that I have to be prepared because, if a freak accident like that could happen to that guy, a freak accident could happen to me.”

Then he asked, “Feeling better?”

“Much.” After eating the protein bar and taking a moment to rest, the light-headed feeling had passed.

“Ready to get back to it?”

Josephine nodded. “Sure.”

Logan stood up and offered her his hand, which she accepted.

“Thank you for talking me into taking a break—and feeding me.”

“Anytime.” He hoisted the heavy backpack onto his shoulders.

She had enjoyed it, as well. Sitting with Logan on that boulder, without another soul in sight, had been perfectly comfortable. It had taken her months to feel comfortable around Brice; he had always made her feel so nervous because he was so brilliant with the law. If she were to be honest with herself, sometimes Brice still made her feel a little anxious whenever they got into a conversation about California statutes or federal law. But with Logan, she was at total ease—not a single nerve in sight.

What did that mean?

Josephine forced her brain to stop trying to unravel meaningless life riddles, and refocus on finishing her trek up the steep hill. She leaned slightly forward, bent her knees, ignored the burning in her thighs and lungs, and willed her body to finish the last half of the hill quickly. At the top of the hill, Josephine threw back her head and let out a loud whoop to celebrate her accomplishment.

“I made it!” she exclaimed happily.

Logan joined her at the top of the final hill. She was glad to see that he was finally winded, too.

“Now, that felt good...” He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his forearm. He smiled at her. “You’re a maniac.”

Pleased, she asked, “I am?” No one had ever called her that before. Cautious and tenacious, yes. Maniac? Never.

“I nearly had to sprint up that hill just to keep up with you.” He was impressed with her. “I’d really love to take you rock climbing one day.”

For a moment, they both considered what he had just said. It sounded like he had asked her out on a date.

Knowing that she had a serious boyfriend, Logan added, “You and Brice...”

“I think I can safely say that it would be a definite ‘no’ for Brice.” Brice was an avid sportsman. And he was very skilled at many things: fencing, sailing, golfing. But rock climbing? That wouldn’t turn out well for anyone involved.

“It’s not for everyone,” he agreed, walking beside her through a small clearing to the edge of a patch of trees and overgrown brush.

“There it is!” Josephine pushed some branches out of her path and stepped over a fallen log. “See?”

“That is too cool.” Logan looked through the branches of the trees and spotted the old chapel, tucked away in the hillside.

He pulled a small machete out of his rucksack. “Let me get in front of you so I can cut a path for us.”

She shook her head, an amused smile on her face. “Really? You brought a machete?”

“Like I told you, I need to be prepared. I never know when I might have to perform an emergency amputation.” He stepped in front of her and started whacking away at the branches.

“We’ll have none of that, sir.” She hung back, far away from the sharp blade.

Logan seemed to relish clearing a path for them, and in no time at all, they were standing in front of the chapel. They stood together, silently and reverently, in front of the structure that her ancestor had built a hundred years before. It was a small building—much smaller than she remembered. But, she supposed, everything looked smaller when you looked at it again as an adult. And yet, it was just as magical as she remembered.

“It looks like a little hobbit house, doesn’t it?” She asked him quietly. She didn’t know why she was whispering—it just felt right.

Logan put away the machete. “The construction is incredible. It still looks solid as a rock.”

The chapel was the size of a modern day one-car garage, with a steeple roof, stone foundation, and a curved, heavy wooden door. The shallow stone steps leading up to the chapel door were covered in moss, decomposing leaves, and twigs.

Josephine ran her hand over the pitted wood of the chapel door. “I always loved this door—I can’t really believe that it’s still here...still on its hinges.”

Logan checked the hinges. “They’re rusted through. If you want to go inside, it’s going to take some brute force.”

“I’m going in.” There wasn’t any scenario in the equation that didn’t include her going inside the chapel.

Together, they used their body weight and strength to force the door open. Logan slammed the side of his body into the wood, while she used her hands to push. Finally, after several attempts of prying the hinges free, there was a loud sound and the door cracked open.

“Keep pushing!” Logan leaned harder into the door, using his feet to brace himself in place.

The top door hinge broke under the pressure, popped off, and flew over her shoulder.

“Whoa!” She ducked to the side. “That was close!”

“You all right?”

“Yeah...it just missed me. Can we get in?”

“Almost.” He gave the door one last hard shove with his body and pushed it open wide enough for them to squeeze through.

Logan stepped inside the dusty, cobweb-laden chapel first. It was dirty, and there were signs that animals had been inside of the structure, but it appeared to be safe.

When she stepped inside of the chapel, it was like stepping back in time. Her heart felt it...her brain felt it...for just a split-second, she was transported to her childhood. This was the enchanted place where she had played and dreamed with her twin. They would spend from sunrise to sunset up on this mountain, perfectly content acting out every fantasy they could imagine.

“Look—only one of the stained glass windows broke.” Josephine slowly walked along the narrow aisle that led up to a pulpit hand-carved by her father’s grandfather.

On either side of the aisle, roughly hewn benches were tipped onto their sides. Originally, there had been four benches on either side of the aisle. Now, there were only five benches left. Birds had flown through the broken window and had made nests up in the rafters. Much like the chapel itself, the nests seemed to have been abandoned long ago.

“What do you think?” she asked him.

“I love this place,” Logan said immediately. His eyes were taking inventory. He’d spent a lot of time on jobs with his uncle and he had been personally involved with moving older structures.