by K. K. Allen
“We’ll go to the hilltop?”
He nodded, and my world righted once more.
At three o’clock on the dot, we met again. Ridge was already there when I arrived, and he had changed into a white shirt and jeans, while I still wore my red dress that he had complimented earlier. I couldn’t keep the smile from my face as I approached. Several times over the last few hours, I’d questioned whether I would actually see him.
We walked toward the center of the bridge. I had always viewed our meeting spot as a symbolic representation of what Ridge and I could be—the end of our families’ lifelong feud, as a connection rather than the divide that had always stood between us. Maybe that day would come sooner than I’d imagined.
I hugged him just as tightly as when I’d first spotted him earlier, and his warmth thawed me from what had felt like an endless winter. Everything was good and right. I chose to ignore the fact that Ridge couldn’t give me a solid answer on how long he would stay. Instead, I chose to cling to the present as hard as I possibly could.
Peering up at him, I smiled. “First one to the tree is the winner?”
Ridge narrowed his eyelids at my challenge. “You’re on.”
I laughed as I zoomed past him, his arms slipping from around me as I went. He took off behind me and quickly closed the distance, which made me giggle even harder. When we got to the cornfield, I flew down one row, while he went down another. All I could see around me were bright-green stalks and the soft brown soil. Who knew one could find heaven in a cornfield?
By the time I reached the end, Ridge was already running through the weeds up ahead. I followed, my calves burning as I tried to keep up, but he was so fast that when I got to the bottom of the hill, he’d completely vanished from sight. He’d already made it to the top, and I was exhausted.
I slowed my pace, trying to regain my breath before reaching the top, but when I got there, Ridge was still nowhere to be seen. Swiveling around in a circle, I searched for him, my heartbeat beginning to quicken with panic. I found the edge of the hilltop where I knew Ridge liked to sit after it got dark.
“Ridge!” I called as I raced forward.
I’d barely reached the bristlecone pine when arms shot out from the other side of the tree and pulled me in. I slammed against a hard body and looked up to find Ridge laughing.
With adrenaline still racing through my body and my fears of something happening to him quickly dissolving, I smacked his chest while glaring up at him. “You scared me.”
The corners of his mouth tilted up as he gripped me firmly at my waist, then he moved me so that my back was pressed against the tree. He stepped into my space and leaned in, touching his forehead to mine. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispered. “I just wanted to do this.”
When he opened his eyes again, his gaze fell to my mouth. Energy buzzed between us as I anticipated the feel of his lips. I’d memorized them three months ago and longed for them every moment since. Then he brushed his lips to mine so softly that I questioned once more whether I was just dreaming.
I rested my hands on his chest, reacclimating myself to the firmness of his body, while he gently pressed his mouth to mine. With my senses heightened, I could feel everything physical and emotional between us—everything lost, everything found, and how perfectly right it felt to be back in his arms.
Our kiss made me remember everything that had been sweet and innocent about our first, but our mutual intensity was growing by the second. The desperation in our hearts was rising to the surface with each sacred moment as the acceptance of our shared passion was finally exposed between us.
With every subtle move I made, he made one too. I clutched the fabric of his shirt, and he deepened the kiss. When I slid my tongue along his bottom lip, and he bit down on it gently. I ran my hands up and through his hair, and he parted my lips with his. When I gripped his hair and tugged just slightly, he groaned and pulled my body closer.
As time ticked on, our bodies molded into one as the heat burned between us with an intensity I hadn’t known existed. We were finally speaking our truth, and our friendship was exploding into so much more. Our tangled tongues, our exploring hands, and our heated bodies were all part of a distinct language only Ridge and I understood. It conveyed feelings that had rooted into our souls when we were just kids.
Just like the unwieldy vines that I’d been busy pruning all day and the corn stalks in need of detasseling, Ridge and I were an unkempt field that had been shaded for too long, giving us zero chance to grow. The time had finally come to let the sunshine in.
25
The Hunter
At the familiar sound of her laughter, the Hunter’s focus snapped up from the creek where he had been resting. He was far enough away from the bridge for anyone to spot him, but with his binoculars he could see them far too clearly. Not even the quickly mounting fury in his chest could blur the charade taking place before him.
The Cross boy was back, and him and Camila were off to frolic through the damn cornfields and up to the hillside just like old times.
The hunter cursed out his disgrace. It had been nearly two years since he’d spotted the girl in territory that felt more like his today than ever before. He thought she’d learned her lesson the last time the arrow whizzed straight past her head, aimed perfectly to frighten her in a warning to stay away. He had even watched as a spooked Camila ran straight into the arms of the Cross boy, leading to a fight. He’d hoped it was Camila’s demise when Harold charged toward her in his tractor.
It had all played out better than he could have ever imagined. The hunter’s problems would have been solved right then and there if the old man had stuck to his drunk guns and ran the girl over. Even then, the outcome of that night had still worked out in his favor. Ridge had left town and Camila had no reason to venture back into the woods.
Well, apparently until now.
The hunter reached for his bow, squeezing the grip while deciding on his next move. He could track the two friends through the woods. He could get rid of the problem with two shots through the heart and kill them both like he’d always wanted to. But he knew that was too risky. Having them both go missing would certainly lead to too many eyes poking around the hunter’s land. He couldn’t have that.
If the hunter was going to get rid of the problem, then he would have to wait. Timing was everything and getting Camila alone in the woods was key. He released the grip of the bow and let his binoculars hang around his neck before cupping his dirty hands through the creek water and then drinking from it in one slow slurp.
26
Ridge
I leaned over the fabric bench seat of my truck and tugged the latch to open the passenger door. “You get the goods?”
Camila beamed and held up a cloth bag from the market she’d just walked out of. “Sandwiches, salads, waters, and fruit. Did I forget anything?”
“Nope. That’s perfect.” I took the bag from her and set it on the floor as she started to pull herself into my truck.
I’d already taken a good look at her once I spotted her rounding the side of the store, but I was gawking like a fool now. She leaned over to shut the door, and my gaze immediately fell to where the fabric of her dress rode up her thigh. The golden-yellow V-neck sundress was shorter than the ones she liked to wear on the farm. A thick ruffle wrapped around the bottom of her skirt, matching the pair of ruffles that went around each of her shoulders. Three thick brown buttons trailed down to her waist, where the material gathered and was tied by a thin string bow.
She looked at me as she started to fasten her seat belt, and I felt a kick of guilt in my chest for the way I’d been staring at her. I focused on her bright eyes and flushed expression. Camila always got exhilarated by our sneaking around, but today, we were taking our adventures to a whole new level.
We’d met at the market nearest to our homes, where she would leave her car for the day. Since we couldn’t go inside together, she’d grabbed lunch for us and
met me at the side lot to sneak into my truck.
Summer had already ended, and the weather pattern was becoming more unpredictable as the days went on. The darkening nights were becoming colder, and the mountain peaks in the distance were beginning to fill with snow. Camila had already started her senior year of school, and our time together had shortened significantly, especially with her working extra hours in the vineyard to keep up with the season’s demand.
Before school had started, we managed to see each other every day, even just for a quick meetup at the bridge. But today, I had something extra special planned. At least, I hoped Camila would think it was extra special.
“You ready to go?”
Her green eyes shone back at me. “Yes. Where to?”
I shook my head. “I told you. It’s a surprise.” Frowning, I looked toward the busy parking lot. “You might want to duck until we get onto the main road.”
Without question, she lay down sideways and rested her head in my lap. For a second, I was hypnotized by her pretty gaze of bold green and swirls of gold. After breaking away from her stare, I put the truck in drive and turned right out of the parking lot.
For the most part, we tried not to dwell on the things we couldn’t control. We knew what we were getting ourselves into by sneaking around, but that didn’t make it easier. If anything, each day felt like it was getting harder to keep up the charade. It seemed like we were living parallel lives, hers in the vineyard, mine in the cornfield, and our only connection was the bridge that was meant to separate us. In a way, it still did.
Camila had her friends, school, church, and her dreams to one day run the vineyard. I had my father, who barely spoke to me, a job that felt like it had no end, and my only friend back in Ouray, cursing me out for leaving him in a bind. But the moment Camila and I were together, it felt like we were lifted above the clouds, and all that mattered was us.
“Okay,” I said when I was finally on the mountain road, leading toward our surprise destination. “You can sit up now.”
She righted herself and looked around. “Can I at least have a clue as to where you’re taking me?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
Camila didn’t argue. She liked surprises, and the fact that I’d planned an entire day for her made her happy enough. It didn’t matter where we were headed, just that we were together.
“Have you talked to Jason at all recently?”
“Not lately. I keep thinking about how I left him the way I did. Maybe I should have stayed long enough to help him find a better replacement for me. He’s already got that big ranch to worry about.”
She frowned. “You’re still feeling bad about that?”
“Well, yeah. This was his dream, but we never talked about me working for him forever. He understands. Still, I’d feel better knowing he had someone permanent that he can rely on. Someone other than his brother.”
“Jason has a brother?”
“Yeah, Dave Lachey. Owns a plot of land near Jason’s camp. They inherited the livestock ranch together, but the guy’s not all there. I never met him, but Jason told me that he got into some trouble a while back for poaching, so Jason does most of the heavy lifting.”
“Damn.”
Damn was right. I had given Jason a few months’ warning to replace me, but finding a hiking guide he could trust had turned out to be a harder mission than we’d thought. Between the camp and the ranch, he had to be drowning.
“I thought he found someone to help.”
“Didn’t last. Jason’s kind of an old grump. No patience. He found someone else since then, but the time it takes away for him to train them is cutting into his profits.” A beat later, I blurted out what I’d been hesitant to tell her. “I was thinking about splitting my time between here and Ouray to help him out.” My eyes were on the winding mountain road, but I could feel the heat of her stare with the silence that followed.
“You want to leave again?”
My chest tightened at the hurt in her tone. “No, Camila. It would just be temporary. Just for the winter season until he’s able to find someone he can trust.” I rested my hand on her knee and gently squeezed. “I told you. I’m not going anywhere, but you know I don’t have much going on in Telluride during the winter.”
She frowned. “I know, but—”
“I haven’t worked out the details yet. I haven’t even talked to Jason about it yet. But I figure Harold doesn’t need me after the harvest is over, anyway. Maybe I could spend a few days at the camp then come back here to see you.”
She let out a sigh, and I could tell she was slowly accepting the idea. “You really hate that cornfield, don’t you?”
I chuckled. “I don’t hate it. But I don’t like staying still for too long, not with all that’s out there. Life on the tractor isn’t my dream.”
Camila shifted to get a better look at me. “What is your dream, Ridge? You know all about my dreams, but we never talk about yours.”
She’d asked that question before, and every time she did, I felt closer to knowing the answer. “I’m not sure, but working at the camp with Jason has given me a few ideas. I loved those hiking tours, but there are all sorts of activities around here that could use a guide. I just need some certifications. All I know is that whatever I end up doing will be based on preserving the land. That’s important to me. Who knows—maybe Harold will make good on his promise, and the farm will be mine one day. If it is, I’d rather give access to others who can enjoy it rather than dedicating my life to a failing crop.”
“That’s harsh.”
I shrugged. “It is, but it’s also true. Climate change is killing us. We’re already seeing the effects, with the hotter summers and early winters. In forty years, our land will be nothing but a wasteland if I don’t do something about it early on.” I paused as I went through a roundabout to continue on the road toward Ridgway. “I used to be so against this town because of what it stood for, but that was before I really started to see what Jason did with his land. My people fought against land development and unnecessary digging. When they lost every battle, they clung to the only land that the government allowed them to have.”
I felt excited just talking about everything I’d been thinking lately. “When I think about the farm, I think of the unique opportunity I have to take back stolen land and do something to make my people proud.”
“Wow.” It was a simple word but enough for me to know that Camila was on board with my line of thinking. “That’s huge, Ridge. I mean, talk about acknowledging history and rewriting the future.”
“Exactly.”
Camila and I had had a million discussions regarding where I’d come from, what we stood for, and the stereotypes that still existed. She knew how important it was for me to find my own way and make a home for myself when no other existed, at least not in my heart.
I was happy when the conversation transitioned to her day at the vineyard where she’d been in charge of labeling the new shipment of vintage bottles. And she was happy to tell me all about it until ten minutes later, when she started to realize where we were.
She gasped. “No way.”
Pride filled my chest. “Last Dollar Road. You said you’ve never been. Surprised?”
Her mouth gaped, and her eyes were bright. “Yes! Why didn’t you tell me? I would have brought my good camera.”
“Ah, I’m sorry. I wanted it to be a surprise. We can come back, and you can bring your camera then.”
She grinned. “Look at you, being so thoughtful about our date.”
I shook my head, fighting the blush I could feel creeping up my cheeks. A date was something I couldn’t take Camila on, and she knew it. Not unless we were to go somewhere hours away from home. Even then, a quick stop at a fast food joint would be all I could afford after the gas money it would take to get there. “It’s a ride in my truck into the middle of nowhere, but if you want to call it a date, go for it.”
She hummed. “You did make me b
uy picnic food. If you have a blanket in the back of your truck, I’m going to have to rule this a date.”
I squeezed her leg and pulled my hand back to the steering wheel to focus on the bumpy drive ahead. “All right, you win, then. It’s a date.” I nodded to the stereo, which I’d recently added a CD player to. “I made us something for the drive. Can you get it?”
She shuffled through my plastic folder of the short selection of CDs I owned until she got to one marked Last Dollar Road and pushed it into the slot just as I turned onto the main gravel road that marked the beginning of the thirteen-mile scenic drive through the San Juan Mountains. Tom Petty’s “You Don’t Know How It Feels” started up, and a smile bloomed on her face. Instantly, a different sort of energy—calm, peaceful freedom—entered the cabin as the music enveloped us.
While we always enjoyed our time together, no matter where we were, an underlying line of tension always seemed to radiate between us while we were in our hometown. The anxiety of possibly getting caught and knowing it would be enough to end whatever it was we’d yet to define was enough to lose sleep over.
As we started down the off-road, we passed open pastures and numerous caution signs warning us of mud, rocks, and fallen trees. Historic farmland was marked off by rotted fence posts that surrounded us, and mountain bikers zoomed by us on their way back from where we were headed. Every now and then, I stopped the truck to force us both to breathe and take our time on our way across the mountain.
Beauty enveloped us as we passed by enchanting aspen groves and open wildflower meadows by the plenty. We made our way through the curvy drive slowly and with care. Steep drop-offs met us at every turn while beautiful valleys stretched for miles below us. Open sky and mountain peaks met us at every turn. And once we reached a higher elevation and farmland was still stretching around us, we stopped to watch a herd of sheep slowly walking across the land.
