“Come in,” Cami sang.
Her bedroom door swung open and Henry walked in
Cami and I were stomach down on her bed, sharing one pair of ear buds plugged into her computer.
“We’re leaving for fireworks in ten,” he said.
Cami sat up. “Are we going up to the hill? Did you grab the blankets from the shed?” she asked as she slid to a mirror, fingering her hair into a ponytail.
“Everything’s downstairs. Spring, it cools off at night here. You might need this.” He was trying not to grin as he handed me a purple Los Angeles Lakers sweatshirt.
I was about to tie it around my waist but Cami grabbed it. “You’re being a Neanderthal again,” she said, then took my arm. “Don’t worry about his gorilla-ness. You’ll sit with me.”
“Okay,” I replied cheerfully, even though sitting next to Cami, sweet as she was, was not the way I envisioned the evening.
The rest of the gang was congregated in front of the house. Fourth of July celebrations were in full swing—kids were running around swirling sparklers, and there were designated areas where groups were setting off pinwheels and fountains. Our troop set out to claim a spot to watch the main show.
Dart and Lilah led the pack as we cut through a field. Cami and I trudged behind them, her arm linked through mine. Henry and Mel brought up the rear.
“Dart?” Henry called, suddenly right behind us.
“Yup?”
“Will you give Cami a hand?” Henry gave her a brotherly wink. “This is a steep hill, and look at your shoes. I can’t take you anywhere.”
“Bite me,” she snapped, but then examined her flimsy flip-flops covered in dust.
Henry said something quietly to her in what sounded like German. She immediately dropped my arm and latched onto Dart. That’s also when I noticed that Mel had passed us and was walking beside Lilah. Henry and I were behind the rest, alone, for the first time since seeing each other that morning.
The flood of emotions that hit me was almost paralyzing. The first thing I honed in on was the last time I’d seen him, storming out of that study room after Alex called my cell.
My footing stumbled.
“You okay? Slow down,” Henry said, catching my arm then letting go. “We have plenty of time.” His steps immediately slowed, setting the pace. After a few minutes, the other four were well ahead of us. No one stopped to wait or even turn around. Mel must have had Lilah handcuffed.
“I’m sorry that we didn’t get a chance to ride this afternoon,” Henry said as he strolled beside me, hands in his pockets. “We’ve got some nice horses and…” He trailed off and stopped walking.
The sun hadn’t totally set yet and when I turned to him, he was silhouetted in orange and gold, just like on the back of that brochure. My heart ached.
“Want to check out the stables?” he asked.
I gazed up the hill at our friends who were almost out of sight.
“We’ll catch up with them later.” He was already walking back the way we’d just come.
Henry pleasantly greeted several people as we passed them. They all knew him as Trip. I wondered if they worked at the ranch or if they were folks from town he’d known his whole life.
“Cami’s very sweet,” I said as we cut through a different field, nearing a big red barn.
“She likes you. When I ran up to the house to change this morning, I told her you were here.” He kicked a rock. “I’ve never seen her so excited.”
“She’s different than what I expected.” Henry glanced at me with a puzzled expression. “But good different, and…your house is really beautiful,” I quickly added, observing the soft yellow glow coming from its porch light.
Small talk, Spring? You coward.
“It’s not really my house,” he said, “but thank you.” He unlatched and opened the gate of a wooden fence, allowing me to walk through first. “My great-grandfather would be happy to hear it. He did the renovation—”
“After the storm of twenty-four. I know all about that.”
He pulled back a slow smile. “I heard you took a tour this morning. Susanne likes to think of her museum as the nucleus of town. Whatever happens there directly affects the rest of the world. She’s a little protective.”
We stood under the branch of a tree. Henry was methodically fingering a low hanging branch over his head while I wrapped my hands around a fence post.
A soft evening breeze was blowing, fluttering the leaves. I took the time to breathe in and out, noticing that the unpleasant odors from earlier in the day were gone. Instead, the thin mountain air smelled of earth and grass and life. I took in another breath, letting it hang in my lungs like I was sampling the bouquet of a fine wine.
“You love it here, don’t you?” I said. “So peaceful.”
“It’s my favorite place in all the world, and I’m so glad…”
“What?” I asked when he didn’t finish.
He ran a hand through his hair. “I just can’t believe you’re here.”
My heart was pounding again, whooshing waves of blood behind my ears. I gripped tighter at the post. Henry was leaning against the fence, his unreadable gaze moving back and forth from the ground to the dark mountains.
I knew very well by what happened in his floury kitchen and beside that campfire at Beacon Rock campground that Henry was a man of action and didn’t ask permission first. Which made me wonder why he hadn’t grabbed me for a kiss yet. Was it because we hadn’t been alone? Or was that no longer what he wanted?
That’s when I realized if anything important was going to be said or done, I would be the one who had to bring it up, and stick to it until the matter was settled to my satisfaction. The very notion set loose a different swarm of butterflies in my stomach.
“So, what’s this about showing me your horses?” I asked.
He was still gazing at the mountains. “That was my red herring.” His mouth moved to smile, but the rest of his face stayed smooth. “I didn’t want to take the chance of not being alone with you, at least for a few minutes.” He took a step back and nudged a fence post with his foot. “I honestly thought after everything that happened, I would never see you again.”
“I got your letter,” I blurted before I chickened out. “And I want you to know…” I lowered my eyes, concocting the most magnificent and sincere apology the world had ever beheld. Unfortunately, knowing me, my words were also bound to be ensconced in embarrassing, nervous humor, just to break the tension. Typical cynical Spring.
After one more breath, I forced time and my own heart to slow down, then I opened my mouth and simply said, “Henry, I’m so sorry.”
I suppose I should’ve kept going, but the words were stuck in my throat, shame and guilt choking me mute. Then tears welled—I didn’t expect that. Every bone in my body longed for him to forgive me for being blind and judgmental, as well as for being a complete imbecile about my own feelings.
In my heart, I’d forgiven him a million times over.
“No, you were right.” He pressed his lips together, his expression growing gloomy. “I still cringe when I remember how I behaved that last day in Vancouver. All those things I said and assumed.” He forced his mouth into a smile. “I did actually believe you would come with me, no questions asked. I was horrible, and I apologize.”
I laughed softly. “You already did, and I was wrong too.”
He held the back of his neck, an air of frustration about him. “I should’ve asked you about Julia before I did anything,” he said. “And I should’ve told you everything about Parks at the very beginning.” He kicked the fence post. “But I didn’t want it to come out if it didn’t have to.”
When he looked up at the sky, I noticed how the bottoms of his eyes were a little shiny. I knew his thoughts had flown to his sister. With that simple realization, the feelings in my heart morphed from guilt and shame into compassion and complete adoration for this weekend cowboy bathed in moonlight.
It was not temporary lust or emotions-run-wild that I was feeling as the booms and sparks of the Twenty-Second Annual Kingston Fireworks Spectacular shot off above our heads. It was calming and grounding and safe, yet I couldn’t keep still a second longer.
I inhaled, blocking out everything around me but him, and took a step forward. “Knightly,” I whispered. “Every time I think I know what I’m doing, I get knocked sideways.”
“Ditto,” he said without even the hint of a smile. His forehead was striped with lines of worry and much more gloom than I’d expected. Seeing this, and knowing his stress was my doing, made my heart ache anew. I was prepared to do anything to take that away from him.
So I reached out and took his face. The touch made a wave of uncontrollable longing crash over my head, which normally would have made me want to run away. But not this time. There were no words I could offer. Words seemed to get me in trouble anyway. Actions were called for now, so I held onto him with everything I had and pushed myself forward, finally ready to face the unknown.
“Yes?” he whispered, looking surprised.
I grinned. “Yeah.”
The most magnificent feeling in the world was Henry’s sweet mouth crashing over mine until neither of us could breathe. His arms wound around me, then slid to the small of my back, pulling me closer. I heard nothing but his breathing—as erratic as mine—and my own heart pounding behind my ears.
“Spring,” he whispered, looking into my eyes, making my knees shake. “You’re all I’ve thought about for months.”
I slid my fingers into his hair. “This is all I’ve thought about…” As I crushed my body against his, he exhaled a little groan of shock. I was about to back him up when he spun us around. The next thing I knew, I was atop the split-log railing, looking down at his angel face. After my own quiet gasp, I wrapped my legs around his waist, feeling his strong arms encircle me. The spicy, heady scent coming from the top of his head made me dizzy, and I was thankful his grip was tight enough that I could simply let go.
Letting myself go with Henry was surprisingly effortless.
He only had to tilt his chin up for me to kiss him. I tasted the tangy, phantom hint of cranberries on his tongue, and chocolate and sweetness and love. When I gasped for air, he pressed his mouth to my neck, causing my legs around him to tighten. Spaceships and sky rockets and nuclear explosions shot off inside my head. Henry pulled me off the fence, suspending me against him with his own strength, and I had the sensation of floating on air.
As we kissed and touched and breathed, I was partially aware that my soul had left my body and was hovering somewhere above our heads. Sometime afterward, I realized I’d been in the throes of what Julia described as that very elusive second kind of kiss.
“What is that lip gloss, if I may be so bold?”
By then, the moon was high in the midnight sky as we sat on a small bench behind the stables. The barn blocked our view of the fireworks, but we were shooting off sparks of our own.
“Was it the same you were wearing…before?” He pulled his face back an inch from mine, leaving my lips vibrating.
“I don’t remember,” I replied, draping my legs across his lap.
“I do,” he whispered, butting his forehead against mine. “Pineapple. I haven’t been able to eat one since March. Maybe that’s what made me want to take you to Tahiti.” He chomped his teeth together before coming back to me, one finger tracing over my face, down my neck, then gathering up my hair. “I was partial to the braids. Why the change?”
“That’s what girls do. We can’t grow a goatee, so we cut our hair.”
“No, really.” He knew my answer was flippant and, even by the light of the moon, I could see he wanted the truth.
I squirmed a bit before answering. “I’m done pretending,” I stated, needing to be honest with him. He seemed content, understanding the meaning of this simple answer, and he kissed the tip of my nose, making me feel as if I were glowing on the inside. “I tried to text you,” I said.
“When?”
“After I got yours about meeting at the library. I sort of destroyed my phone so I didn’t get the message for three days.”
Henry lifted his eyes as if realizing something for the first time. “Oh.”
“My text bounced back.”
He nodded. “I’ve been unplugged for a while,” he explained. “Shut everything off. I have an old emergency cell that my parents and sister use when they need to reach me and I’m not around a landline.”
“Why did you unplug?” I asked.
“I was checking my damn phone every two seconds, hoping to hear from you. After a few days of nothing, I figured I had my answer, and I couldn’t stand it.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, touching his face. “I wanted to call you. I guess we’re pretty pathetic at the whole communication thing.”
“Not anymore,” he said. “First thing tomorrow, I’ll give you a list of every number and address I have.”
“Your first gift to me,” I said with a smile. “I’ll cherish it always.”
Henry laughed softly then gazed off toward the mountains. “Did you know this is the first?” He paused, as if he didn’t like the way that sounded. “What I mean is, I’ve never had a woman here with me, not since I moved away to college. You’re my first.”
“I’m honored,” I said, nuzzling the side of his neck. He pulled me onto his lap so my legs were straddling him. He stared into my eyes and kissed me deeply, causing heat to build in my stomach then spread up my body, honing my focus. Instinctively, I tugged at his shirt, needing it out of my way.
“Spring,” he whispered, pulling back an inch. “We’re outside.” He glanced over his shoulder then back at me. “It’s not…ideal for us tonight.”
“I know,” I agreed, trying to slow the blood flow racing through my veins.
Henry sighed and ran a hand through my hair, resting it on the side of my neck, probably feeling my jumping pulse. “Just kiss me,” he requested, so softly. I did. “Again.” As I did, his hands slid up the back of my shirt. I shuddered with joy and dissolved…
“Did you know,” I said, pressing my mouth to his neck, “instead of coming here, Mel wanted to take me on vacation this summer?”
His hands stopped moving, then his arms wrapped all the way around me, holding me extra tightly against him. I knew exactly what he was thinking. Yes, we’d come dangerously close to messing everything up forever.
Timing…
“Why did she invite you?” he asked.
I hooked my chin over his shoulder and ran a hand through the back of his hair. “I wasn’t doing very well without you,” I admitted. It was easier to say this while not looking at him. “She knew I needed to get away.”
“Where”—he was back to sounding glum again—“was she taking you?”
“Mexico.” When I felt him shudder, I sat back. “You don’t like Mexico?”
He was displaying his clenched teeth in a parted-lip grimace. I slid off his lap so I could sit next to him. “My concern isn’t so much with the country as it is with the lawless order and behavior in government,” he explained. “I fear being kidnapped in a foreign place and ending up in a Mexican prison. The amount of testosterone is not conducive with my polished manners and rugged good looks.”
I smiled at his formal cadence. Even in mid-embrace, Henry couldn’t help talking like a bourgeois. “It’s so tough being you.” I ran my fingers down his face. “Have you been there?”
He nodded stiffly.
“Bad experience?”
He thought for a moment then laughed. “The last time I was there, my father and I went hiking in a rainstorm and got lost. Cami called the local Federales to pull us out. Humiliating.”
“You’re close to your family,” I observed. This wasn’t a question, because I already knew the answer. When his smile broadened, I sighed, missing my brothers, my mother, even my father a little—which was strange. Maybe I missed the idea of family more than anything. Maybe it was time I did something about that.
“You’re not?” Henry asked, sensing my mood shift.
We were alone under the stars, wrapped around each other, and I was feeling things I never knew were possible for someone like me. We should be enjoying the reunion, making up for lost time, confessing our feelings, and not talking about my family.
But Henry was watching me with that expression I knew so well. He pulled me onto his lap again, making me feel safe and warm, part of something important.
“My parents,” I began, rubbing a hand over my forehead. “They never really meshed, even through six years of marriage. I haven’t spoken to my father in person for a long time. He had issues; we had issues.”
“How long?” Henry asked, taking my hand and pressing it to his chest.
“Years.” Too long, I almost added.
Henry nodded, then pulled me forward, hugging me, his hand moving up and down my hair, then burrowing in to hold the nape of my neck. Revealing this part of my personal history was new to me—I wasn’t used to opening up. But being with Henry, his arms like a blanket, his body my pillow, made me want to share.
“My mom,” I continued, my face still buried in his chest, “she never cooked for us, but she did manage to put together a sack lunch for me when I was a kid. Each of the sandwiches she made…” I trailed off, heavy emotions coming out of nowhere. “She always took a tiny bite out of the corner before wrapping it.” I smiled to myself. “That was her way of telling me she loved me, I guess.”
He didn’t say anything at first, then he dipped his chin to touch his nose to my cheek. “I hope you realize,” he whispered, his soft breath brushing my skin.
“Realize what?”
He gathered me to him, even tighter. “I hope you realize”—he kissed me lightly—“that’s one powerful love story.”
His words gave me that lighter-than-air sensation again, drowsy and dreamy and safe.
Loved.
“Thank you,” I whispered, holding his cheek.
“Will you tell me more?”
