Page 49 of A Cowboy's Twinkling Lights Lasso
“Thanks again.”
Thorn waits for me outside.
“That was interesting.”
“Just another day at the local bars.” He drapes an arm over my shoulder, holding the picnic basket in his other hand. “Wanna go for a walk?”
“Sure.”
I’m acutely aware of Thorn’s body against mine as we veer off Main Street. The December night air is crisp and clear, with a breeze that cuts through the material of my dress. But it’s worth it. Anytime with Thorn is worth it.
The excitement of my job radiates inside me while the thought of leaving Thorn presses down heavy on my heart. Heavier than I expected, considering we don’t know what is happening between us.
“You’re quiet.” His low rumble is soothing, and I lean further against him, feeling safe and warm.
“I was just thinking.”
“About your job?”
I pause before I say yes.
“Why the delay?” He guides us down another street.
“You know why. You and me, and how complicated we are.”
“When was it ever not complicated?”
I chuckle.
“Listen”—he sets down the picnic basket and grasps my shoulder—“don’t take our complicated, whatever this is, and let it ruin what you’ve worked for. You got the job.”
I smile.
“Say it.”
“I got the job.”
He shakes his head. “Say it like you mean in.”
“I got the job!”
“You got the job!”
“I got the job!” My shriek pierced the stillness of the night.
We both laugh.
“Now, tell me about this job.” He pulls me close to him, and we continue walking.
I explain how I’ll travel to exotic locations and capture each place’s essence through my images. I describe the unique challenges, the long hours, and the time away from home—which I don’t admit is my most significant setback. He listens like he always has, invested in me the way I was always invested in him.
Before I know it, we’ve arrived at our destination, and I can’t help but feel the laughter pouring out of me. He makes me feel so alive again.
The old Victorian Underwood Schoolhouse was built in the early 20th century. Its once red brick is now faded to a ghostly hue. The arched windows are boarded up, and ivy snakes up the walls.
I wonder if kids still sneak in to catch a glimpse of the little girl who roams the halls.
I tilt my head at Thorn. “Are you sneaking me in the Underwood Schoolhouse to get lucky?”
