Several of the hikers pointed their cameras at her. He took her elbow and guided her to the trail. “Not lost,” she said, forcing good nature into her voice. Nellie sighed and went to meet him, quick and sure-footed. Move along, but the guide left the trail, his compact but muscular legs surging energetically over the rocky ground. The consternation on his face bordered on comical.Ī delicious cold burst of wind swirled around them and, without intending to, she stepped back into it and skidded in the gravel. He did a funny wobble with his body, as if taking a few unsteady steps on a tightrope, then gestured her toward him. The steep slope under her feet was loose gray rock, treacherous for amateurs perhaps, but she’d been wandering terrain like this almost forever. His group, tourists with brimmed hats and walking sticks, stopped and stared with dull curiosity. He called out in Italian first, then English. Nellie kept moving, expecting to blend into the ridgeline, but the hiking guide spotted her.
