We traveled west, toward Mount Evans. The city receded; flat land gave way to foothills. Sometimes Marion talked up a listing as she drove, but she said nothing about the Corral Creek place. Maybe she hadn’t familiarized herself with it.
We turned onto a dirt road and Hannah glanced back at me.
I frowned and shrugged. No idea.
“Here we are,” Marion said. We pulled through an open gate. The road extended into a meadow toward pine-covered hills. Lodgepole fencing followed the curve of the land as far as I could see. Where was the house?
Spruce and aspen were interspersed through the meadow. The sun was going down, showing the land to great effect. Long shadows and golden light. Fringes of prairie grass shining like torch heads.
I have always had a weakness for meadow landscapes, and I felt my soul expanding to let in that place.
“As you can see,” Marion said, “the property is extremely private and secluded, but just a thirty-minute drive to the amenities of Denver. The ranch covers two hundred and ninety acres and one-fourth mile of Corral Creek, which—”
“Ranch?” I blurted. “Two … what?”
“Yes, this tract was originally a gentleman’s ranch and summer home for the—”
“Ah, could we”—I touched Hannah’s shoulder—“step out briefly?”
“Sure, of course.” Marion parked and remained in the car while Hannah and I stumbled around to one another. Cool, pine-scented air and stillness surrounded us.
I snagged her hand and pulled her into the meadow.
Several yards from the Prius, we stopped.
“Is she out of her mind?” I laughed. “Have we finally driven her crazy?”
“Maybe she took us out here to shoot us.” Hannah giggled.
“Right? I mean, Jesus.” I stared at the vista. “Did you hear that shit? A creek? Almost three hundred acres? Hannah, that’s more land than … I even know what to do with. I’m sorry, I”—I wrung my hands—“we’ll have to be clearer with her.”
“Yeah, for sure.” She glanced at me and then at the meadow and mountains. “I mean, it’s definitely beautiful.”
“Oh, very. Too bad it’s so, ah…”
“Crazy?” she offered.
“Yeah, ridiculous.”
I cleared my throat and we stood there in silence, surveying the land.
In retrospect, I realize we were feeling one another out. The house itself didn’t matter. Nothing could be said against that land and its absolute beauty. Thick groves of trees stood in the distance, filled with mystery, and forest carpeted the mountainside. I wanted to be there when night fell. How powerful that night would be, and the wind and the stars.
I wanted to own it. I had never conceived of owning so much land, and maybe part of the allure was the insanity of it.
And now, I thought, you have to say good-bye to it. Hannah would never— “Let’s see the house,” she said.
“What?”
“Just for fun.” She toed the earth. “We came all this way.”
I led her back to the car, the phrase “just for fun” digging at me. See the property of your dreams, just for fun! Rub salt in your wounds, just for fun!
“Honestly, I’m not sure I want to see it,” I said.
“Well, I do.”
I frowned as we got back in the car.
“Stunning, right?” Marion smiled uncertainly at us. I glared out the window. Fuck all this house-shopping, and so much for my rejuvenated mood.
“It really is,” Hannah said. “Can we see the house?”
“Just for fun,” I muttered. No one heard me.
“Of course!” Marion stepped on the gas and we rolled deeper into that gorgeous world. It closed around us and filled me with longing. I must have looked like a little boy staring out the window. Can I have it, please?
Marion pointed out “improvements” as she drove: a paddock, a horse barn, another, smaller barn and a cabin.
I refused to look at Hannah, who was probably snickering.
The house stood on the northwestern side of the property, at the base of a large rock outcropping. It was, quite simply, the killing blow to my hope—a chateau-style refurbished lodge with a white stone exterior and a giant, solid joke of a front door.
A joke, yes. This house and land were a practical joke at my expense.