“I think I should’ve signed a waiver,” Trish mumbled. “Yes, romance novels. I’m sure you read them by the boat load.”
Wade chuckled at that poor attempt at a joke. Her grip tightened each time she had to step over a tree root or navigate a sharp turn. Trish was much too close to him. His heart threatened to break through his chest.
If Grams offered this tour again, Wade would be smarter. He’d certainly rule out this trail. He could imagine one of the other writers fawning all over him and purposely falling against him, trying out that whole damsel-in-distress thing. At least Trish was trying to take it all on her own, only accepting help when necessary. He admired her independence.
“Can’t say I’ve ever picked one up.”
“Do you read?” Trish asked, her breath seemed heavier from the difficult path. “Books, that is?”
“Not much.” Working long hours on both the ranch and his cabin, well, it didn’t leave much leisure time. When he did have it, he preferred to sit in silence. Revel in it.
“You’re missing out.”
“How’s that?” This talking was good. A distraction from the heat of her touch.
“They’re an escape from reality.”
“I like my reality.”
Trish stopped, yanking him back a step as she did. He muttered under his breath when he nearly slipped on a stray branch. “You’ve never wantedanythingdifferent? Or even wondered?”
They should keep walking, but she looked so beautiful in the moon’s glow. He couldn’t deny that, no matter how much he wanted to. It seemed to paralyze him; it took a moment to answer. “What’s to want? I have my family close by. My ranch. My land. My peace and quiet. A simple, uncomplicated life.” He left out the small detail that Bill was trying to sell the one piece of it that Wade treasured most.
“Hmm.”
Something about her drawn brows prompted him to pry, even though he shouldn’t. “You don’t like your reality?”
Trish nodded forward so they’d keep walking. They weren’t far from the clearing now. “I don’t have some ritzy, glamorous life.” She waved her hand. “I work in a cubicle with gray walls and no window. Each morning I have to remind myself I need to pay my rent in order to get out of bed to go.”
“That sounds miserable.”
“When I went to college, I thought it was important to be practical. Get a degree that would guarantee me a job. Creative writing was only an elective back then. My best friend tried to talk me into changing my major to English lit, but I was too afraid, I guess.” There was sadness in her tone. Defeat. His heart pulled at the pain he heard there.
“Afraid of what?”
“I’m all I’ve got. If I mess that up . . .”
“No family?”
“Uh . . .no.” Her answer seemed hesitant, as though the topic might strike a chord she didn’t want to hear. “I wish I had a family like yours. They seem really wonderful.”
“We’re a little dysfunctional,” Wade replied with a light laugh. “But I wouldn’t change them for the world.” Well, except Uncle Bill’s constant draw, trying to earn a quick buck off a ranch he’d never really appreciated. “You write to escape?”
Trish shrugged. “Yeah.”
“Watch your step.” One large tree root blocked the path that marked the entry to the clearing. Once on flat ground, bathed in moonlight, he dropped Trish’s hand and busied himself pulling one of the two blankets Grams had packed, and spread it on the ground.
“It’s so beautiful out here.” It wasn’t until Trish settled onto the blanket, long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles, that Wade noticed how small it was. Had Grams done this on purpose? “I know I keep saying that, but I really mean it. I’ve never been anywhere quite like this.”
He unfolded the second blanket, about to spread it next to the first one. But a shiver hit Trish so violently that her whole body shook. “Here.” He offered the second one to her.
“Surely someone’s excited about your writing?” He guessed it wasn’t that Howie fellow.
“My best friend, Mindy.” A gentle smile fell across the lips all too prominent in the moonlight. “She’s the one who threw me the I-finished-a-book party back at home. And actually, she gifted me this retreat as a congratulatory present.”
“Generous friend.”
“She’s like a sister.”
