We wound our way through some trees and piles of rock, steadily moving uphill towards a near mountain range. Sitting high up on the tall horse, I could see everything normally blocked to me when on foot, the vista spreading out before us like an impressionistic painting done entirely in nature’s most beautiful shades of green, brown, and blue.
Neither of us spoke, making it easier for the sounds of the wild West to trickle in and take over my normally busy-with-words mind: a hawk screeching; wind blowing through branches; leather squeaking and creaking on the saddle; the horses’ footsteps over rocks and crunchy plant debris … swish, clop, swish, swish, clockle, crack … swish, clop, clop, crack. A bark announced the arrival of one of the ranch dogs, who raced past us and took the lead on the path.
Maeve’s words came back to me, how she liked to let the men drive so she could enjoy the scenery … how Baker City was one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I’d argued with her then in my mind, but right now I wasn’t, and I knew I never would again. It was wild here and untamed for sure, but its savage beauty was something I’d never seen before in real life, living in cities and their suburbs. Majestic was a word that came to mind as I scanned the landscape around me. A spiritual place. It made sense that Native Americans had chosen to settle in this area of the country. I felt really connected to the Earth for some reason.
It was crazy to be feeling this way when I was a city-girl at heart, but denying it would do me no good. The irrational, emotional part of my brain might be claiming that I’d suffered a nervous breakdown over my destroyed wedding plans or the fallout that awaited me back home, but the fully functioning rational brain inside me and my heart too were both telling me the truth: that this place isn’t just a city on a map. It’s a home - a place where a person could be herself, and surround herself with people who loved her and respected her and laughed with her.
With that realization came the understanding that sometimes you can’t appreciate the true beauty of a thing until you’ve experienced it for yourself; no amount of words or pictures will do the trick. And no amount of planning could make it happen. Sometimes, we just have to go where the wind takes us and see where we end up.
I sighed with both happiness and melancholy. The wind had blown me to Baker City, Oregon and by being here I’d found a place in the world where I could very possibly discover peace, for the first time in my life. But this Eden was inhabited by one of the biggest mistakes I’d ever made in my life, and because of that, I would have to leave.
There was just too much negativity wrapped up in the situation to consider staying: a drunken, blacked out marriage that was neglected for two whole years; a girlfriend waitress who maybe wasn’t a girlfriend but she sure seemed to think she was; an angry younger brother who may or may not blame me or Mack for his failed wedding plans; and the fact that I’d poured my heart out to this stranger and shared pieces of me that I’d been trying to lose for over ten years. It was hopeless.
Chapter Thirty-Three
“YOU’RE BEING AWFULLY QUIET BACK there. What’re you thinking about?”
Mack’s question startled me out of my reverie and reminded me I was sitting up way too high off the earth. My body tensed for a few seconds before I could get a grip on myself again. “Nothing.” Better to just let it lie, right? Sometimes the truth just needs to stay in darkness. The problem was that it felt like if I hid the truth from everyone, I’d be hiding myself there too, and I wasn’t a fan of the dark.
“I don’t believe that for a second. I get the feeling you’re always thinking about something.”
“What are you thinking?” I asked, trying to turn the tables over to safer topics.
He glanced back at me. “About how bad I want to see you naked again.”
My face pinked up. “Be serious.”
“I am being serious.” He turned to face front so I was looking at his broad back once more. “That’s not all I’m thinking, but it’s high on the list.”
I sighed, sad because I wanted to see him naked again too, and in the light of day for a change, but that would be stupid. Sex would only complicate things more. “We’re not going to do that again, okay? The two times we’ve done it were both mistakes.”
“Two times? Boy, you’re not very good with math, are you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, according to my math, it’s more like five or six. Not that I was counting or anything.”
“What? You’re crazy.” I wondered what else I’d forgotten from that night, other than the wedded-by-Elvis part.
“Believe me, I don’t forget things like that.”
I snorted. “Right. How many women have you been with?”
He twisted around and grinned. “You jealous?”
“No.” Maybe. Yes.
He shrugged. “Not many. I’m picky.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
He stopped his horse. My horse kept going until it was next to his.
“It’s true,” he said in a more serious tone. “I don’t just sleep with any girl.”
“You slept with Hannah.” It was a total shot in the dark, but I waited breathlessly for his response.