The View from Half Dome: A Novel by Jill Caugherty

Author:Jill Caugherty [Caugherty, Jill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Published: 2023-04-19T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Oh, your fair skin!” Enid said, studying Isabel. “Best wear this hat with the wide brim. It’s a steep climb to Mount Watkins.” They had risen at first light to fill canteens, lace shoes, and pack a rucksack with cheese, bread, chocolate and berries. “It’s hard for Charles to have to stay back.” Enid heaved a sigh.

Isabel murmured agreement. Surely Dad hadn’t had an inkling of his own cardiac troubles; he had never spoken of chest pain or shortness of breath before that fatal day on the docks. Or if he had experienced symptoms, he had stoically kept them to himself, perhaps believing them a byproduct of his job.

The Adams pulled up to the post office in a dusty Dodge. Isabel guessed they were in their early thirties, a good twenty years younger than the Michaels. Virginia’s honey-colored hair was twisted into a chignon, and she wore a thin pair of spectacles. Her husband, Ansel, in a Stetson hat and jeans, had dark hair and eyes, a trimmed beard, and a delicate, slightly crooked nose. He called out a lively greeting from the driver’s seat.

Isabel climbed after Enid into the back of the automobile. A bulky bag sprawled on the floorboard, which Enid whispered they must be careful not to disturb, as it contained Mr. Adams’ camera equipment.

“This is our young guest for the summer, Isabel Dickinson,” she told the Adams. “She’ll be taking Charlie’s place on the hike.”

Virginia turned to them, her eyes widening in surprise. “First I’ve heard you have a guest. You’re relations, I imagine? How did...”

“It’s a long story. Isabel will earn her room and board by helping me with errands and several important things.”

A puzzled look swept over Virginia’s face as she extended a hand to Isabel. No doubt she had more questions and would seize the first opportunity to corner Enid in private so she could ask them. Self-conscious, Isabel stared down at her lap.

“You’ve got some big shoes to fill for Charles,” Ansel joked. “Sheer mountain cliffs to scale, to boot. Are you game?”

Knowing he was gaining fame for his photography, Isabel blushed. “I’m ready for hiking, not sure about scaling.”

Virginia scolded, “Stop, you. She’s young and looks strong, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she outpaces us all.” She caught Isabel’s eyes. “Don’t let him scare you. We won’t be scaling any cliffs.”

“Virginia has lived at Yosemite her whole life,” Enid put in. “She knows a thing or two about climbing.”

“And if she’s in the right mood, she might sing along the way,” Ansel said, steering lightly with his left hand.

“Ah yes! Tell Isabel the story of how you two met.”

“Funny to say, classical music brought us together. Before Ansel caught the photography bug, he’d planned to become a concert pianist.” Virginia gave her husband an affectionate glance. “One year he spent a summer at Yosemite and wanted to practice. After he heard my father kept a Chickering in our rooms above the studio, Ansel called on us, and Papa invited him to come over to play whenever he liked.

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