Page 63 of Creeping Beautiful

It was dark. There was no moon that night. And he was not taking me to the fort we built when we were younger. He took me over to the duck lake, but not so that McKay could see us if he was looking through the cutaway trees. We went off a little ways, to a part of the woods we didn’t spend a lot of time in before because it was thick with underbrush and overgrown trees.

At least together we didn’t spend a lot of time out here. But it was becoming very clear that Nathan St. James was living a double, hidden life behind my back. Because there was a path I wasn’t aware of.

“Take your shoes off,” he said.

“I thought you hated when I walk barefoot through the woods.”

“I made a deal with the snakes tonight. They won’t be bothering us.”

Which I thought was cute. Because I had made that same deal with the water snakes when I first arrived at Old Home.

So I did take off my shoes and the dirt had been raked so that it was soft, and deep, and cool between my toes.

The air in this part of the woods was cool as well. Not sticky and humid like it was by the water.

Soon we were in the middle of a clearing. Everything was dark and felt like a secret. Then he turned and said, “Close your eyes, Indie.”

I thought for sure this was it. He was gonna kiss me. So I smiled and closed my eyes. He wrapped a handkerchief around my head and covered my eyes so I could not peek.

My stomach flipped and fluttered as he did this. He was standing behind me and I could feel his soft jeans brushing up against the back of my knees.

“Now, don’t you move,” he cautioned me.

“I won’t.” I practically giggled.

And then he walked away.

I almost looked. It took every bit of self-control that McKay had taught me over the years not to peek.

But he called out to me every few seconds to let me know he was still there. Doing things. I could hear him doing things. Nathan St. James can walk softly in a forest. Like a deer. So quiet you could not hear him or know he was coming until he was upon you.

But he didn’t walk soft. He made noise so I would know I wasn’t alone.

Not that I was scared of the woods. I wasn’t. And he knew this.

He just wanted me to understand that he was there.

I was patient.

Then he said, “Take off the blindfold, Indie.”

I drew in a very deep breath and let it out before I took off the blindfold. Because I knew he had done something special. Just for me.

And when I slipped that blindfold down my face and let it hang around my neck, I could not even understand the beauty all around me. It was just that gorgeous.

Nathan St. James had turned the darkness into something lovely and sweet.

There was a treehouse cradled deep in the body of an old, thick pecan tree. But when I looked closer, I could see that it was really three trees, all wound up together and leaning off in different directions.

I knew these trees. Had been by here once or twice in our wanderings. But that treehouse had not been there.

It was just a platform with no walls. But it didn’t need walls because there was a canopy frame over top of it, and hanging from that canopy frame were long curtains of mosquito netting.

And the reason I could see all this was because there was light up there. Flickering, soft, gold light.

“Come on,” Nate whispered, and he took my hand again. “Let’s go up. There’s more.”

I think I held my breath as we climbed up to the platform. And then I let it all out in a rush when he held up the netting so I could crawl under it.