Dante stood out, waving his arms in encouragement. She gulped. Swung over the other leg. Looked down. Froze.
Was she supposed to jump?
Another participant handed her a rope. “Use this to get down.”
Breaking out of her scared stupor, she grabbed the muddy rope like a lifeline. Pushed herself off and tried to rappel down. Only her hands slipped—ouch, rope burn—and her feet slid down the wet wood. Next thing she knew she was sitting butt down in the mud, recovering from the jolt to her tailbone as people dashed around her.
“C’mon, Eloise, you can finish.”
She looked over to see Dante. He’d moved up the line to get a clear view of her sitting there. She’d done pretty good through the other obstacles. Why did he have to witness her ungainly fall now?
“Get up. You’re almost finished.”
She’d show Mr. Hotshot Matthews. With a sudden burst of energy, she rose, stumbled, then took off as fast as her shaky legs would carry her. Loud cries and applause greeted her at the end of the line.
She bent over once she knew she’d crossed, hands on her knees, heaving in great big gulps of air. Her heart beat overtime, her head hurt and her knees were red and skinned.
And what, exactly, did people find invigorating about this race?
A hand slapped her on her back. She rose, meeting Dante’s amused gaze.
“You survived.”
The heck with survived. “Did we hold on to the record?”
His grin dimmed a fraction. “Off a couple seconds. No big deal.”
Her stomach sank. She’d cost them the victory? “I’m sorry. I...I could have—”
Dante cut her off. “Stop.”
She blinked back the stinging tears blurring her eyes.
“You did great for your first time. The Sandy Beach PD signed up a ringer, so we were outmanned, anyway.”
She ran a dirty finger under her nose, then grimaced.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
She’d blown it. For the team. Could she feel any worse?
Brandy and the rest of her fellow officers circled her, giving her praise and joking with each other. All Eloise could muster up was disappointment in herself.
“Hey,” Dante said with a low voice as he leaned in close. Gripped her elbow. “You okay?”
No.
“Sure,” she said, pulling her arm from his grasp. She didn’t need his sympathy.
Brandy hooked her arm through Eloise’s. “Let’s get our complimentary T-shirt, clean up and have lunch. That barbecue smells good and I’m starving.”
She limped along with her friend. In the public restroom, she took one look in the mirror and nearly burst out in tears.
“Oh. My. Gosh.”
Brandy giggled. “Yeah. This race takes a toll.”
Eloise’s gaze slipped to her friend, as Brandy patted only a bit of mud from her fresh face, and she nearly growled.
Reluctantly returning to the mirror, she cringed. Her hair stuck out, mostly frizz pulled from the ponytail. Her glasses hung haphazardly, caked with gunk. Her shirt was stained and her legs were spotted with mud.
“Please tell me you have a brush,” Eloise nearly whimpered.
“Not on me.” Brandy laughed. “Don’t worry. You’re in the same condition as the other runners.”
“If that was meant to make me feel better, it didn’t work.”
Brandy handed her the clean shirt. “Put this on. It’ll help your disposition.”
Really? At this point, nothing could make her feel...anything.
They finished up, but after stepping outside, Eloise told her friend, “I’m going to my car. I’ll be back.”
Brandy narrowed her eyes. “You aren’t running off, are you?”
“No. I need to fix my hair before I join the team.”
“Okay, but if you aren’t back in ten minutes I’m going to send a search party for you.”
Dragging in a long sigh, she retrieved her pack and keys and marched to her car. She tossed her ruined shirt on the back floor, quickly grabbed a brush she’d placed in the console and went to work on the tangles catching in her shoulder-blade-length hair. Then she grabbed a towel she’d thrown in the back seat and wiped off her legs and arms. Changed sneakers. Feeling marginally human again, she turned to see Dante walking her way, a water bottle in each hand. Great. Add messy insult to injury.
He handed her a bottle covered in condensation when he reached her. “I noticed you didn’t stop at any of the water stations along the course. Figured you’d be thirsty.”
She didn’t realize how much until the cold, clear water slid down her parched throat. She chugged half the bottle before asking, “How long were you watching?”
“Just after you cleared the hay bales.”
Great. Only the entire course. She forced herself to meet his blue-eyed gaze. “Sorry I cost you the best time.”
He waved off her concern. “Don’t worry. It’s more for bragging rights. Trash talk, really.”
She shook her head. “I just don’t get it.”
“Get what? Having fun?”
“No. This whole team mentality. I mean, I understand from a work perspective. We need to work together to put bad guys away. But sports...”
“I take it you weren’t on any sports teams in school?”
“Do I look like I’m athletic?”
He took a long, leisurely sweep from her head to her toes and back. She shuddered under his perusal.
“Right now? I guess not. How about other teams? Intellectual pursuits?” He grinned. “I could see you on the debate team.”
She wished. If she’d had the nerve to join back then, she would have loved to debate. Fear had taken precedence.
“I wasn’t really involved in many team endeavors. Mostly stayed to myself.”
“Why?”
She took another sip to stall. Why indeed? Lacked confidence, she supposed. Without parents or anyone to encourage her, it was hard to work up the nerve to join in.
“I didn’t really have a lot of support. My parents are college professors. Really busy.”
He tilted his head, but thankfully didn’t say a word.
“I suppose now that I’ve run the course, next time I’ll know what to expect.”
“Next time?”
She cringed. Had she overstepped? “That is, if the team will have me?”
“Are you kidding? We’ll take any soul willing to run through muck and then hoist back a beer.” He frowned. “You will have a celebratory beer, won’t you?”
Would she? She didn’t drink. Never saw the appeal. “I suppose.”
“That’s the spirit. Let’s go get some food.” Dante turned and started toward the smoking grills and clusters of chatting people.
Her