Chet

The more time passes, the more I find myself thinking back on that night and the way things unfolded. I’ve reached for my phone a hundred times to check on her, to make certain Mark stayed gone—and to apologize again for that kiss. Everything about it felt right, but it wasn’t. I remind myself she’s in a relationship but then get caught up wondering if that’s still true. He left after all. My heart races when I think of us together. My head is busy questioning every scenario. I need to talk to her. I need to know what she’s thinking. What about the chemistry between us? Does she feel it too?

When I snap back to reality I consider that if things between Christy and Mark got as bad as I imagine, the last thing she needs now is another man in the way. Truth be told, the last thing I need now is a relationship, much less to get caught in the spider’s web of one gone sideways. There’s more than enough work around this place to keep my attention for the next ten years, like it has for the last ten, I just have to get my priorities straightened back out.

Just when I finally make the decision to let go of the what ifs and get back to the work piling up around me, I look up from the tractor to see a familiar Ford pickup coming up the driveway.

I tip my hat when she opens the door and “hot damn” slips off my tongue. She was a sight to behold the first time I laid eyes on her, but today? Today, she has outdone herself. She’s wearing a short little dress that seems a bit premature for the temperature, but mercy is she wearing it well. She steps down and turns her back to me while she reaches in the cab for something and I’m left wondering if she means to show off her assets or if she’s unaware how much of her thighs are exposed with her stretched over her seat like she is.

She turns back to me with a basket in her hands, but not before I’ve etched the image in my memory.

“Everything alright? I wasn’t aware we had called for you to come out.”

“This visit is personal.” She holds out the basket. “I’m here with a peace offering, of sorts.”

“Peace offering? I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

She sighs, letting the basket drop to her side. “The other night...” A blush warms her cheeks and she drops her eyes. “Before you left...”

My cheeks warm in recognition of her words. “Yeah—about that. Again, I’m sorry.”

“If you’re sorry because you think it wasn’t welcome, you shouldn’t be. I wanted to tell you that night, but you hardly gave me the chance before disappearing,” she says. “So, I brought gifts. I hoped maybe some fresh goat’s milk and cheese might be a decent place to start.”

“Well, I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“I have goats, they make milk, it was really no trouble. But—in case that’s not enough, my trump card is a homemade cherry pie. Just don’t ask too many questions about how homemade it really is, okay?” Christy smiles.

“I wanted to call ... to talk to you,” I say as I climb down from the tractor. “But it didn’t seem like my place. If Mark came back, if you two worked it out, I didn’t want to interfere.” Standing directly across from her, I lower my head to block out the sun with the brim of my hat. Our eyes meet as I take the basket from her. When my fingers graze her hand, electricity shoots up my arm and I wonder if she felt it too.

“I was hoping you might be able to sneak away. Maybe give me a tour of your farm, so we could talk a little?” She rocks back on her heels and stares up at me, looking hopeful.

“I think that could be arranged. Let me get these inside so they don’t spoil. We can take the four-wheeler—unless—I don’t suppose you rode a lot of horses back in Pennsylvania?”

“Maybe not in Pennsylvania, but I’ve logged my share of time on the back of a horse with Uncle Julius.”

“Fair enough. Why don’t you go on into the barn and start saddling up Henrietta, she’s in the second stall on the left. She’s gentle that one, ought to be patient—in case you’re a bit rusty. I’ll take Midnight—he’s the black colt in the stall next door. He still has a wild streak if the mood strikes him.” I take a step toward the house when it hits me. “Uh, Doc. What about your dress, isn’t that going to be a problem?”

“Not if you keep your eyes up here, mister.”

I can feel the heat in my cheeks. “I didn’t mean…”

“Joking. Only joking. I think I can make it work, but it might be better if I could borrow a blanket to put over my lap.”

“No problem. I think it’ll just be us out there anyway. Unless you count the cows.” I smile.

* * *

This woman continues to surprise me. She saddled, mounted, and took the reins of that old mare as good as anyone. I start us off walking the fence to give her time to find a rhythm, but not only does she have no trouble keeping up, she gallops past me and stops twenty yards or so ahead, tapping on her wrist like she’s waiting on me to catch up.

“Seems like you’re doing fine. There’s a place I’d like to show you, but the ride can be a little tricky.”

“Lead the way Mr. Wilde.” Christy runs a hand through her hair. “But can we pick up the pace a bit?” She laughs, her eyes dancing with humor as she trots around me.

“Careful now Doc, unless you want to see that wild side of his,” I say, pulling back on Midnight’s reins to settle him before he can get too spun up.

I lead us out into the heart of the ranch, crossing through a small creek and climbing up a path that gets narrow in a spot or two, but Christy and Henrietta make their way just fine. When we crest the last hill, I point down towards an old, twisted up limber pine standing alone on the sloping hillside of the meadow. We dismount and tie the horses to a low hanging branch.

“What d’ya think?” I ask.

“It’s … I’m speechless,” she says, looking out over the land.

“No one comes this far out unless we’ve got cattle grazing the meadow. I like to ride out here when I need to clear my head. There’s something about the mountains. I know they’re always there, but isolated from the rest of the world like this—the magnitude is ... awesome.”

“Awesome is an understatement.” She takes a long breath and lets it out, smiling as she looks over the view. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”

I pull a blanket from my saddle bag and stretch it out under the pine and then take her hand. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she replies, almost automatically.

“Are you? A lot happened the other night. If I crossed a line, you have every right to be angry. If I had it to do over again…” I pause.

“Please don’t apologize for anything that happened to Mark. He deserved everything he got. And if you’re talking about the kiss, well, I’m the one who kissed you. If apologies are necessary, then it’s on me, not you.”

“Maybe so, but I kissed you back, and in my head, I know that was wrong. I make no excuse for it, but … my heart is having a tougher time.”

“How so?” she asks, looking deep into my eyes as if she’s peering through to my soul, searching for the answer there. The late afternoon sun has moved toward the ridgeline and in this light, her hair is pure gold and there’s a sparkle to her blue eyes a man could get lost in.

“Since the day we met, I’ve had a feeling about you, Christy. I don’t know how to explain it, but I don’t believe you’ve been out of my head for more than a minute since.” I clear my throat. “Even now, sitting here with you—the ranch—my responsibilities, it all seems a thousand miles away. This feels like the place I’m supposed to be. Right now, in this place, here with you.”

Christy smiles. “I feel it too. I should be worrying about so many things that just don’t matter right now.”

“See the thing is, for as long as I can remember, my family’s ranch is the only thing I’ve had time for. I guess I don’t know any better way to explain it, but there’s something different about you,” I say, drawing my hand along her cheek.

Sitting here with her, the connection I feel for her is stronger than ever. My body is begging me to kiss her again. I don’t know how much longer I can fight this feeling.