Page 69 of I Knew You
“No, I thought I might spend some time with my wife instead.” I nudged my leg against hers. She smiled, and I popped a couple of fries in my mouth through my smile beforecontinuing, “How is your back? On a scale from one to ten, one being the worst?”
She thought a moment. “I’m probably at a five right now,” she said, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin.
“Do you think you feel like going for a little walk in the woods?”
“In the woods? Trees, Lakey, all that?”
I swallowed hard. “Yeah. I thought it would be nice to be outside.”
She bit her lip. “Is it uphill?”
I shook my head. “No. We’ll drive the side-by-side up and walk around at the top of the ridge. I’m not taking any chances with your back.”
She thought for a moment. “I’m not opposed. I’ve never been outdoorsy, so it could be annoying if I’m clumsy or slow?—”
“You could never be annoying,” I reassured her, rubbing her arm lightly for a few seconds. “If you want to go, we will. If you don’t, or you’re hesitant, we won’t.”
“I do like the fall weather,” she mused, tapping her finger against her lips as if in careful thought.
“And the temperature and sun are perfect. We can go as slow and careful as you want.”
“Okay. You’ve got me. I’m convinced.” She laughed, her reaction making me smile. “You’re going to make me an outdoors girl if it kills me, aren’t you?”
“An outdoorswife.” I winked at her. “Words matter, sweets.”
Still grinning, she averted her gaze, her token blush spreading again across her cheeks.
I would never get tired of that blush.
An hour later,leaves crunched under my boots and her sneakers as we walked through the woods. We’d driven up the mountain on the all-terrain vehicle and then taken the path in the flatter areas. I’d cleared out a lot of undergrowth a few months prior, so the way through the area was easy to explore. After spending so much time wandering the woods, I was familiar with them. I didn’t need the marks on the trees I’d painted anymore, but I pointed them out to Julianna anyway so she would be aware.
“How resourceful,” she said, letting her fingers run over the marks on the tree bark. “It’s like you know a thing or two about traversing a forest.” The sarcasm in her voice was not lost on me.
“Yeah. A thing or two.”
“What made you want to be a forest ranger?” she asked. “You and Whit used to do a lot of outdoorsy stuff, but I thought it was mostly getting drunk by the lake and driving around in the mud.”
I chuckled. “That’s fair. But after my football dreams died, I knew I wanted to do something outside. Being in an office sounded like hell, and nature has always felt worthy of my respect. It’s amazing how it’s always changing but still stays present. It’s always there.” I looked up into the tops of the trees, and her gaze followed. “And there’s a freedom out here you can’t experience anywhere else. A type of peace.”
“I’m glad you found something you loved to make a career of,” she replied, petting Lakey’s head as we walked along. “There are so many paths we can take in life, and I’m glad you didn’t settle for something you didn’t care for.”
“My dad wanted me to be his protégé, and I would rather set myself on fire.”
She laughed for a moment, then fell silent. We were moving more slowly than usual, but I didn’t mind. I would stay outside with her all day at any pace she set.
“Do you ever think about football? Those old dreams?”
I looked at her, slightly puzzled, but she continued, “I thought maybe you would coach or something? You were so good at playing. And you were always teaching Whit things. Without you, I don’t think he’d be as good as he is.”
I stumbled a smidge over a thick stick on the ground. I hadn’t expected her to say that, but I grasped the opportunity to share with her.
“You remember Coach Mayfield?” I asked, and she nodded. “He’s still at the high school, but he’s been on me for years to help him coach, and I never would. I didn’t feel like I could. Now, he’s retiring at the end of this year and wants me to take over. I don’t know how I feel about it. Sometimes, secretly, I think I’d like it.”
I’d never said those words aloud to anyone.
Her brow creased. “Why secretly? Football was a huge part of your life. Do you think you’re not allowed to love it anymore?”
I sighed. “It seems like something that should be in the past. And it reminds me of a lot I don’t want to remember. Things I think I’m over sometimes, but maybe I never will be. Stuff like the injury, our wreck, my parents, losing Grams, leaving you behind…” I trailed off. “I’ve never said that to anyone. I think about football a lot, but I never mention it. Not even with Whit.”
