Page 32 of She's My Kind Of Rain

I look down at my feet, stepping on the scattered rocks that end this trail, and when I glance up, I’m in awe. Placed before us is a small lake, and, nestled off to the far corner in some grass, is a doe and her fawn. He pulls me to a crouching position, and we watch as the mother guides her baby out of the grass and to the water’s edge to get a drink. The sight is breathtaking, and Sawyer squeezes my hand as we both take in the scene. I squeeze back, then turn and kiss him on the cheek as the deer make their way back toward the tall grass and disappear into the woods.

“I can’t believe we just saw that,” I say, returning Sawyer’s gaze as we both rise to a standing position.

“Besides the ranch, this trail is my favorite place. My Pops actually showed me it. I had a school project once where I had to collect a bunch of very specific leaves and seeds. I told him about it when he got me from school that day, and he brought me straight here.”

He surveys the space around us, but my eyes stay locked on him. He seems so genuine in his actions and shares little pieces of himself with me that I feel he wouldn’t share with just anyone on the street.

“After we found about half of the leaves and nuts on the assignment sheet, we went and relaxed under that tree over there.” He gestures towards a large Maple tree. “We chatted about the trees to start, but our conversation quickly shifted to music when my grandpa said that this little lake was a place worth singing about.” His stare returns from the tree back to me, a smile not only on his face, but also in his eyes. An expression that only real love could form.

“I like your grandpa, well, I mean, I think I would have really liked him. His love for music sounds similar to my dad, and the more I’m with you the more I think that. There’s something about you, Sawyer—” I take a breath and bite my lip. “I just, I can’t get you out of my head. It’s like that lake over there, I think you’re something worth singing about.” I release a soft laugh at how silly that sounded out loud, but his smile doesn’t waver, in fact, it only deepens.

He pulls me into him and wraps his arms around my waist, kissing me on top of the head. Releasing me, he guides me toward yet another barely visible trail.

This time, we ascend up a much steeper hill, scattered with disheveled buildings. I watch my feet, taking careful steps so as to not trip. Unfortunately my flip flop gets stuck with my nextstep. I plummet forward, only to be met with two large arms quite literally catching me before I fall.

“Are you okay?” Concern washes over Sawyer and my heart melts at the same time. I may not have dreamed of fairy tales growing up, but this entire day has felt like one.

“Yes, flip-flops probably weren’t my best guess on footwear for the day.” I let out a laugh, looking down at my foot as I rotate my ankle once, then slide my shoe back on.

“We’re almost to the top, I promise. But, let’s walk a bit slower.” He grabs me and pulls me in closer for a hug, gliding his hand down my curves. My nerves zing to life with the simple touch, making my heart race and making me want him in more ways than one.

We depart and hold hands, strolling up the rest of the way, passing through the overhead brush and beautiful green trees surrounding us. Each step cracking branches beneath us until we reach an opening to a ridge. Displayed before us is another eye-catching view of the lake we were just at, but also something that puzzles me—an old floor made of marble. My brows scrunch together, trying to figure out what exactly I’m looking at.

“What is this place?” I spin toward Sawyer after taking in the view.

“This is my Pop’s love story.” He runs a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck. Such a simple gesture, and yet, I think it’s quite easily turning into one of my favorite sights.

“What do you mean by his love story?” I smile, scrunching my nose. This place is nothing more than rubble. A ruin. And yet my curiosity about its past is more than piqued as I survey the space again.

“So, this place used to be called Hidden Lake Resort. Back in the thirties, a family bought this entire property and brought in sand down by the lake. All those buildings we went past used to house the people who came to stay here. Before WWII started,my Pops and his family stayed here, and this is where he met Nan.” Wonder fills his eyes like a child who had seen fireworks for the first time.

He grabs me yet again, leading me away from the lake view and back on to the dance floor. Positioning his hands around my hips after pulling mine around his neck, we start to dance. And instead of bothering to question it, I follow his steps. He slowly moves us around the dance floor and continues his story—part of my earlier hesitation melting away just as my heart melts at the effort he’s gone through for today.

“I never knew Nan. She got into an accident when my mom was little and Pops never spoke about anything besides their love, so I don’t know too much about it. But this is where they met. This very dance floor.” A happy expression permeates his eyes and he continues as we glide seamlessly around the floor. “Pops said he saw her when they were down by the lake. He’d tried all day to get her to notice him. There used to be a slide, apparently, and most of the women stayed down on the beach, relaxing while the kids and men swam or went down the slide. Once he got to the top, he spotted her and claimed that very moment was the moment he fell in love.”

“I thoughtthiswas where they fell in love though?” I question.

He laughs. “Yeah, so he spent all afternoon showing off by that lake, and at night, the resort hosted these large dinners filled with music and fancy dining. She’d been standing close to the look out over there.” He removes his hand from my waist, pointing to the spot where we just stood, and I can’t ignore the pang in my chest at the absence of his touch—even if it is for just a moment. “Apparently, he waited for her parents to not be close by because he didn’t want her father to get pissed that some boy was interested in his daughter, especially one he didn’t know.Well, anyways, he waltzed over there the moment he got the chance and, sure enough, he tripped.”

“Stop, he did not trip.”I gasp. That can’t be how the story goes. It just can’t. He has to be playing some game or this has to be a joke or something.

Another chuckle escapes his lips. “Kid you not. So, he falls right in front of this girl and, luckily for him, she sees it and rushes to his aid. He apparently did his best to save face, I guess he was normally way more smooth with the ladies—kinda like Rhett,” he adds with a laugh. “Anyways, he asked her to dance. And apparently Nan said yes.”

He spins me in a circle then pulls me back in again, kissing me with passion this time when our lips meet. Our tongues trace one another’s, and I feel lighter than air, as if the butterflies he gives me might very well make me soar away.

I pull back from him. “That can’t be it, that can’t be the end of the story.”

The grin on his face deepens. “Well, no, that definitely wasn’t the end or I wouldn’t be here.” He chuckles. “So, anyways, they danced and then later that night they snuck out to see one another. He said that night had been the most beautiful night he’d ever seen, but it had nothing to do with the stars.”

“And now I can seeexactlyhow he resembles Rhett.” I scrunch my nose and laugh at the realization. “That is so beautiful. It sounds like they had something really special.”

“Yeah, they had the love that most write about.” Our dance halts and he captures my lips in a kiss once more. “The entire place burned down during the war. Pops said that Nan wrote to him about it, and that the letter had been stained with tears. Once he made it home safe, he brought her back here with his Gibson so he could sing to her, and they danced under the stars.”

I lean into him holding him close, and though this all feels a bit too perfect, I realize Sawyer isn’t showering me with giftsor hiding me from the world like I’m one of his many dirty little secrets, he’s baring his soul and sharing pieces of those he loves. And as that realization settles in my heart, so does the worry that he is too good to be true.

The sun sets as we make our descent back down the trail toward the parking lot.

“Thanks for such a lovely day. I hadn’t expected that we would do all of this.” I gesture into the open space as if that sums up today’s events.

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