Page 52 of Saddle and Bound

"Slept wonderfully," Rosie responds with a smile, moving closer to the fire. "I didn't think you could sleep so well outdoors."

I watch her as she sits beside me, wrapped in my jacket. My heart does a somersault in my chest at the sight, but I try to stay calm."It's the fresh mountain air. Works wonders," I respond, trying to keep a light tone.

Rosie nods, looking around with eyes full of wonder. "It's all so quiet and peaceful here."

"Do you miss the city?" I ask cautiously, not wanting to pressure her.

She turns to me, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Actually... not as much as I thought I would. I mean, I miss some things, sure. But here... I don't know, I feel more like myself."

Her words give me a spark of hope, but I try not to get carried away. I know how complicated her situation is.

"Well, you're always welcome here," I say, trying to be supportive without forcing the issue.

Rosie remains silent for a moment, watching the fire. When she speaks again, her voice is low, almost a whisper:

"Thank you, Alex. That means a lot to me."

I wish I could tell her how much I want her to stay, but I know it has to be her decision.

"So, what's on the schedule for today, cowboy?" she asks with a smile, clearly trying to change the subject.

I decide to follow her lead and not push. "I thought I'd take you hiking. There's a special place I want to show you."

Her eyes light up with excitement. "Sounds perfect!"

Chapter 28

Alex

I can’t stop thinking. My mind churns with doubts and unspoken desires as we walk among the trees. Rosie is here, her hand in mine, yet she feels so far away. We’ve been holding hands since I helped her over the log. Has she noticed? Does it mean something to her?

There’s so much I want to say, so much I want to ask. But every time I open my mouth, the words fail me. I want to tell her I’m falling for her. That her presence has brought a light into my life I didn’t know I needed. That the thought of losing her terrifies me. But how do I say all this without ruining everything?

I glance at her as we walk. Her expression is calm, but there’s something in her eyes—a flicker of uncertainty. Is she confused? Hesitant? I wish I could read her mind, understand what she’s truly thinking. Would she regret leaving this place for her life in Los Angeles? Or would she regret staying here and changing everything?

The thought that she might be as torn as I am fills me with a strange, protective urgency.

"So cowboy, do you often bring girls to this special place?" Rosie suddenly asks, interrupting my stream of consciousness. I clear my throat... and decide to answer honestly. I can't expect her to be comfortable and open up to me if I don't do it first.

"I've never brought anyone here actually... it was a place my father used to take me." She looks at me, surprised but attentive. Her bright eyes encourage me to continue. "After he died... I only came here alone. To be honest, initially I didn't even come alone. Then I started coming to feel close to him... at some point I stopped completely. I haven't been here in years."

I feel Rosie's hand gently squeeze mine, a silent gesture of comfort that gives me the strength to continue. And it also makes me realize that she too is aware we're still holding hands.

"How old were you when you lost your father?" she asks. She seems a bit hesitant, but I can hear her despite the faint tone.

"Fourteen. But I was lucky... I was adopted by Chris's family. We've been friends forever and when I was left alone, his parents helped me and showered me with love."

"They did a beautiful thing... they must be really good people," she responds with a tender smile while squeezing my hand once again. A gesture that means more to me than a thousand words.

"Yes, they are. And so is Rory. And Chris. I've never known anyone kinder or more pure than him. He's my brother... all the guys are."

?

We’ve been walking for a while now. The silence between us has settled into something easy, interrupted only by Rosie’s curious questions about the trees or the animals we pass, or by my quiet explanations.

The rhythmic crunch of our footsteps on the soft forest floor mingles with the gentle trills of birdsong. Rosie’s hand remains in mine, and with every step, I become more aware of it. There’s a warmth there, steady and grounding, that I don’t want to let go of.

“The ranch, the animals, the wilderness... being here, surrounded by it all, makes me feel like I’m part of something bigger than myself,” I admit.

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