Page 55 of Major Love

Even though I was freakinglividwhen I first realised that he knew about Casey’s bar, the more time that I’ve mulled it over the more I realise that it isn’t any of my business. Just because I’ve lowkey been Casey’s accountant since he enlisted, it doesn’t mean that he has to tell me every little thing that he does. Especially when my life hasn’t been in our hometown for over a decade.

And I’d be lying if I said that no-one in Nashville has been trying to reach me while I’m here. Firstly to remind me about the gigantic offer that I’ve been propositioned, suggesting that maybe I come see the bar for myself next month. And secondly Riley, one of my closest Nashville buddies, who clearly feels somewhat responsible for my being slandered as country-boy arm-candy.

He offered to come meet me if I tell him where I’m staying, although I quickly emailed back to say that totally won’t be necessary. I want his album to do well and I don’t want anyone catching wind of our ‘secret relationship’ rekindling, even though that’s still so insane to me when I’ve only ever thought of him as a friend.

And in a place like Nashville, where everyone is putting blood, sweat and tears into securing their dreams? A totally genuine friend can be really hard to find.

I pick up my phone to text Haven that I’ve arrived at Alpine Trail, and my heart stumbles in my chest when I see that I have two unread messages.

I snuggle down into my scarf and open up the texts from Jason, letting me know that he’s at Casey’s cabin and that he wishes he could be with us today.

I bite nervously into my lower lip and then decide to tap out a quick text before I can stop myself – telling him where I am,how long I plan to be here, and that I wish he was here too. Although I miss out the fact that Haven and Tuck aren’t here with me because I don’t want him distracted from the heavy-duty construction work that he’s doing this morning.

I send a similar text to Haven even though my phone has no service, because I’m sure that I’ll pick up a random signal somewhere along the trail, and then the messages will get delivered while I’m not even aware of it.

I slip on my backpack, my thermal mittens, and then, after giving my ear-muffs a quick readjustment in Casey’s mirror, I hop out of the truck, hitting a soft pile of snow with a muted thump.

I lock up and start walking, my boots gripping securely in the snow, not worried for a single second about anyone recognising me here.

Because even if anyone in Phoenix Fallsdidrecognise me from the country music articles, I’m fairly certain that they would be totally fine about it all.

In a small town like this people can smell bullshit from a mile away. Stories like the one in theObserverprobably get no more than an eyeroll from the people here.

I take a snowy photo of the trailhead so that I can show it to Tucker when he’s recovered from his cold and then, after checking to see if my cell signal is still out, I pocket my phone and begin walking the snowy path.

It’s peaceful and beautiful, the snow sparkling as I tip my head back to look at the trees, and I keep close to a group of two families as they trudge gently up the terrain.

And even when a teenage girl at the back of their pack peeks over at me a few more times than would be considered usual, she still offers me a small smile even though Iknowthat she recognises me.

I’m kind of relieved to have ripped the Band-Aid on my fear of being noticed and I give her a small smile in return, which makes her eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning.

Which, I can’t deny, is really adorable, and it helps calm my nerves about the Nashville situation.

I mean, maybe a different kind of woman would be able to run with the press’s attention, but all I’ve ever wanted is a quiet life, like what my mom had with Cash.

The kind of life that Icouldhave if I stayed in a place like Phoenix Falls.

I drop my eyes back to my snow-boots, blonde curls spilling out from under my scarf, enjoying the crunch of the ground beneath me as occasional snowflakes drift softly by.

It’s so calm and peaceful that I walk all the way to the top of the lowest incline, and I stare down at the sparkling pines from the frost-coated pass.

By around half eleven I decide to make my way back to the parking lot so that I can keep my promise to Haven about returning before the change of weather.

Although, not wanting to get caught in a storm isn’t the only reason why I’m sticking to the schedule.

And maybe it has something to do with the former soldier currently waiting for me at the cabin.

I swallow down my excited nerves, locking the doors as soon as I jump up into Casey’s truck.

It starts steaming the second that I’m inside, the weather beneath the frosted trees clearly way colder than my distracted mind was comprehending.

I kick off my snow-boots and swap them for drier footwear, pulling on a clean pair of thermal socks and my trusty brown cowgirl boots. I toss the shoes, ear muffs, and mittens in the back, before unscrewing the lid on my flask and slowly drinking my warm cocoa.

I settle back in my seat, flicking on the heating to clear up the windshield, and I watch in intrigued silence as the two families return to their vehicles.

I finish drinking my cocoa and check my cell which is still unconnected, making me doubt if my texts from earlier made it to their recipients. But I decide that it doesn’t matter, seeing as I’m about to head back now anyway.

I gently ease the truck to life and make my way slowly out of the trail’s parking lot, keeping my boot off the gas so that the tires don’t slip on the frosty blacktop.

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