Wander and Roam (Wander #1) (9 page)

Sage hands me the dinner bag. “I’ll be up in a few minutes. I just need to talk with Susan for a moment.”

I silently approve the plan when I accept the food bag without complaint. The entire hike up to our yurt is spent contemplating what my decision means. Tomorrow, I’ll spend the day with Sage. The
entire
day. We won’t be picking vegetables, shoveling mulch, or doing any other distracting farm chores.

We’ll spend the day riding the ferries, seeing the sights, and enjoying one another. Almost like a date. That one thought sours everything. Tonight, I will write away my guilt and tuck it inside one of the remaining purple envelopes.

W
HEN
I wake up Saturday, Sage is nowhere to be seen. Odd. I fill my backpack with the essentials then head to the dining area. Susan waits with a small paper bag.

She tucks the bag into my backpack then pulls the zipper securely. “You’ll find raspberry scones for breakfast. You can nibble on them while on the ferry.”

“Where is Sage? Have you seen him?”

“Oh, he took the first boat over as soon as the sun rose. He said to meet him at Cuppa’s.” Zachary leans to the side of his wrap. His smiling face peeks from behind Susan’s back. “It’s just a block from the ferry docks.”

“Why—?”

“You’d have to ask Sage. I don’t want to spoil all his surprises,” Susan says. “You might want to pack a change of clothes in your backpack.”

“Why? I’ll be back tonight.” I had
better
return this evening. I spent the entire night preparing myself to spend the day with Sage. I could make it twelve hours, but my willpower’s never going to last all night long.

“Better safe than sorry.” She shoos me onto the trail. “You never know when the ferry schedule’s going to run wonky.”

When I get back to the yurt, I throw some extra clothes in my backpack then hurry to the bathroom to grab my toiletries. The water taxi must be waiting for me by now.

As I hike down to the water’s edge, I can’t help but wonder about Sage’s absence.
Since we were both visiting Sydney, why not catch a ride together?

An hour later, I pull open the door to Cuppa’s. The aromatic smell of roasted coffee beans fills the air. As soon as I place my latte order, I spot Sage at a corner table.

“Why did you ditch me?” I settle across from him in the cozy booth.

“Ditch you? I left at the crack of dawn to get everything ready.” He sips his steaming drink.

What kind of things need to be prepared for a day trip into the city?
While part of me wants to question him more, the other part just wants to enjoy the day. If Sage needs to take charge, that’s fine. I don’t even know what Sydney has to offer.

“No wonder you wanted to meet at a coffee house…” I pause when the barista brings me my latte. “You must need a four-shot java boost if you woke that early.”

“I don’t touch that crap… anymore.” Sage pushes his cup toward me. It’s full of pale green liquid. “I only drink green tea.”

I’ve wondered about it each morning, but I haven’t found a polite way to ask. I guess I’ll just be blunt. “Why tea?”

He doesn’t seem offended by my probing questions. “It’s filled with antioxidants and loads of other good stuff.”

“Oh, so this is more of your health nut thing.” I take a long gulp of coffee. I’ll take loads of caffeine and sugar any day.

Sage flinches. “Hey, we need to catch our ferry in fifteen minutes. We’d better head to the docks.”

We finish our drinks, pull on our backpacks, and head out the door. We reach the docks in less than five minutes. Only a few storefronts dot the tiny town, and the streets are nearly empty. The ferry’s bell tolls as soon as we sit on a nearby bench. Within minutes, the boat docks and a line of passengers slowly steps aboard. After we show our weekend passes, Sage leads me up the ramp and to the side of the boat. I glance at the windows behind me. Most of the ferry-goers have gathered inside.

“Trust me, you’ll love the view when we approach Sydney.” He sits down first and pats the bench next to him.

I place my backpack between my feet and settle next to Sage as the ferry takes off. The sun already blazes in the sky, but the breeze takes the heat’s edge away. After pulling a bottle of sunscreen from my bag, I rub it into my arms, legs, and face. Sage ignores the passing scenery and focuses his attention entirely on me.

“What? I left Susan’s too early to finish my morning routine.” A white sunscreen glob slowly slides down my back, but no matter which way I stretch, I cannot reach it.

“Let me.” Sage turns me until I’m half-sitting on the narrow bench and half-supporting myself with my right foot. His warm hands press against my back, above my sundress. They stretch and pull my skin, rubbing until the sunscreen is completely absorbed. Yet he doesn’t stop. His thumbs rub my taut upper back muscles while his fingers stroke from my neck to my shoulders. I can’t remember the last time someone focused entirely on my comfort. Maybe never.

I’m not saying Robbie wasn’t kind and thoughtful, but he had too much of his own stuff going on. I close my eyes and relax into Sage’s touch.

“Look at the view,” he whispers into my ear. I open my eyes to spot the ferry gliding past the Sydney skyline.

I stand alongside the boat’s railing, away from Sage’s magic hands, and point to the iconic white building featured on nearly every picture of Sydney. “That’s the Opera House, right?”

“You guessed it—Sydney’s famous Opera House. Check this out…” Sage digs through his backpack until he finds a postcard and holds it up. The Opera House, the bridge, the boats, all match up perfectly.

The ferry’s speaker crackles. “Next stop, Circular Quay. Everyone must depart.”

We let the hurried passengers disembark before we approach the ramp. After all, we have the entire day in the city with absolutely nothing planned. After following the last stragglers off the boat, Sage and I walk around the busy waterfront. A street performer rolls a glass orb up and down his body. He rolls the clear ball in impossible directions and appears to levitate it at times.

“So, what do you want to do?” Sage guides me away from the performer.

I shrug. “I have no idea. I don’t know anything about Sydney.”

“You really flew all the way Down Under without even reading about it?”

“Silly, huh?”

Sage pulls a guidebook from his backpack. “I have a few things I want to do in the evening. Why don’t you pick how we’ll spend our day?”

The guidebook has to be at least a thousand pages long. I don’t want to waste our time reading the entire thing. To be honest, I’m overwhelmed just looking at it. WWOOFing seemed like the perfect choice because I didn’t need to make many decisions. I just show up at the farm and follow orders.

I flip open the book, which focuses on Sydney. The page reads, “Darling Harbour: Sydney’s primo destination for leisure and entertainment”
.
The guidebook goes on to detail the fancy shops, fine dining, and array of tourist activities the harbor has to offer. We can spend the day shopping, eating, and doing the tourist thing.

One time, Robbie joined us on our family vacation. After two months of relentless asking, my parents caved. Robbie could come, with the stipulation he slept in a different room, with my brothers, and I could vacation plan my heart out. Robbie loved country music, so I chose Nashville. I found an enormous hotel near the Grand Ole Opry, with dozens of restaurants, even more stores, and acres of inside gardens. Everything worked out perfectly. We went to a different restaurant each night, listened to loads of music, and didn’t have to walk much, which helped Robbie.

“I can’t wait to see what you choose,” Sage says softly. “A person’s vacation choices tell a lot about them.”

His voice snaps me back to my surroundings.
What am I thinking, planning the same exact activities as my last trip—my only trip—with Robbie?
No, I need to think of something completely different, something with no reminders or memories. Something I could never do with Robbie.

I close the book and look around. A massive bridge rises above the other buildings in the distance. Tiny objects appear to move up the bridge’s pylons. When I squint, the objects transform into people.
People.
People climb that enormous bridge.

The metal bridge spans the entire harbor. Climbing the monster must involve a whole bunch of daring and athleticism. I would never be able to climb like that with Robbie.

Perfect.

“Well?” Sage paces restlessly. “Are you ready to surprise me?”

“That.” I point to the bridge. “I want to do that.”

“Walk across the bridge?” Sage glances at his map then leads me toward the bridge. “There’s a walkway right along the road. We should get some great pictures from the bridge.”

The corners of my mouth turn up. “Um, walking sounds a little boring. Wouldn’t the photos be even better from higher up?”

The look on his face is priceless. I wish I had a camera to capture how his jaw drops and his eyes widen. “You want to do the
climb
?” he asks incredulously.

“That’s what I was hoping—”

“I never pegged you for an adventure sports kind of girl.” Sage increases the pace. “Climbing the bridge was one of my top three picks for Sydney, but I figured I’d stop back on my own to complete it.”

My radical deviation from normal vacation activities is paying off. Sage is happy, and I’m going to be too scared and distracted even to think about someone else. “What were your other top picks?”

“You’ll find out this evening. We’re doing both of them.” Sage turns to me, places his hands around my waist, and spins me. “We’re going to climb the Harbour Bridge!”

We race hand-in-hand to the bridge’s climbing office. I barely notice the renovated stores and hotels that surround the enormous bridge. It’s really,
really
tall. And Sage was wrong. I’m not an adventure-sport type girl. The looming bridge terrifies me.

But it’ll help me forget. It isn’t too much to ask for one day of peace. For the guilt and the memories and the weight to be lifted for twenty-hour hours. Please, let me enjoy Sydney.

A
N HOUR
later, I’m squeezing the skinny rails of a frail-looking catwalk. One step at a time. That’s what I’ve been telling myself for the last thirty minutes as we moved up, up, up. Though we’re nearing the apex of the bridge, we still haven’t reached it.