Page 62 of Wildflowers & Whiskey

“We are going over there,” I point to a lone tree, the only place near this side of the lake that has some shade. Just like in my childhood, I decide that we will set up there. Tying the horses on a long rope so they also get to enjoy themselves.

Riding side by side in silence, Maeve’s heads whips in all directions, taking in her surroundings, but my eyes are firmly on her. Even when laying a large blanket down and setting out the small little picnic I had packed, I cannot pull my eyes away—especially when she strips down into the world's tiniest bikini, diving straight into the lake without a second thought.

I don’t join her, even though I really, really want to. But given how hard I am right now, the last thing I want to do is stand in my thin swimming shorts, exposing my feelings for her before I even have a chance to tell her myself. So, I just sit on the blanket, shuffling out of my jeans, praying that by the time she comes to join me, I have gained some composure.

We spend a solid hour just chilling in the sun. Meave flitters between swimming, reading, and eating. I end up getting in the lake for a short while, not wanting to waste the opportunity for a good swim. When I come back to the blanket, grabbing the bottle of water I had packed for myself, Maeve lets out a sigh, flinging herself on her back and looking up at the sky.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nothing, really. This is just perfect!” She says, almost in a daze. “Don’t have anything like this in London, and I just know that somewhere like this is where I am meant to be. No big skyscrapers and air pollution. Just sun, wildlife, and fresh air. At least when we are away from the barn, because that shit stinks over there.” I laugh; she isn’t wrong.

“Why go back to London then?”

“I suppose it is all the logistics of it. After the scheme finishes, my visa runs out, and I would need to go back to the drawing board. But this,” her arms come up and she places them behind her head. “This is perfect. I think I have found out that I am a country girl at heart. Just need to start working out the logistics and find somewhere where I can put down roots.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” I say, casually adding myself. “I am sure there will always be a place in Wildbrook Hollow for you. Everyone who has met you has loved you. Kinda hard not to.”

She lifts herself up on her elbows, giving me a small smile.

“Tell me about this place.”

“What you mean?”

“You look lighter here, hard not to notice but this is the most relaxed I have ever seen you,” she says. I rock ever so slightly, so much so that it is probably undetectable to her, but the back-and-forth motions soothe my nerves. I do feel at peace here, because it is one of the few places on the ranch that has not been tainted with the dramas of my childhood.

“I used to come here with my parents when things were good.” I look at her, but she says nothing. I continue, “It’s the only place I have only pure good memories of them both. Where I was loved by both.”

Silence hangs in the air.

“Of course, then mom left. We stopped coming here. Wade just… became a loner. Not wanting to come back here despite the times I asked as a child. He just wanted to be by himself and has done for the past twenty years. Just working and sitting alone on that porch. Even gave up bull riding, which, if you ask me, is a little too late. Should have left when she was still here, maybe she would have stayed.”

“Well, it’s good that you have this place. It’s beautiful, Colt.”

There she goes, always seeing the good in everything I say. Ignoring how I always seem to put a negative twist on things. A part of my fucked-up brain that I clearly need to work more on.

I build up the courage, leaning over to hold her hand, “You’re beautiful, Maeve.” I say softly.

The words have been sitting in my chest for weeks.

Maeve pulls back gently, sitting up fully now. “Colt…”

Panic floods me. Fuck. The way she says my name tells me everything before the rest of the words even come. What have I done?

I rock back and forth slightly.

“I thought…” My voice trails off, not really sure how to finish. I don’t even know what I thought.

I thought you felt it too.

I thought maybe this could be something.

I thought I'd got it right for once.

Maeve shifts closer, not further away, and somehow that makes it worse.

“Colt,” she says softly. “I care about you. So much.” Her voice is careful. Gentle. Like she’s handing something fragile.

Me.