We walk on, and every now and then I pause dramatically to point out another “clue,” and every time she meets me with pure, unfiltered sarcasm.
Honestly? She is goals.
Following the winding trail, she teases me with every step. I of course pretend to take this mission deadly serious.
I stop again, holding up a hand like a park ranger. “Shhh.”
“Oh God—whatnow?”
I point to a low-hanging branch that looks freshly bent. “New break.”
Lucy gives me a shove as we move along the trail. “You’re such a goofball.”
When we make it to a little clearing that Monty McNair—owner of the hardware store—told me about, I set the tackle box down on a stump with great ceremony.
“Time to bait the legend!” I announce, pulling out a handful of M&M’s and sprinkling them dramatically in the grass.
“Is this considered littering?” She glances around nervously, as if waiting for the actual park ranger to jump out of the woods. “I don’t think we’re supposed to feed the animals.”
I pop one in my mouth and roar, “I am the animal!”
Lucy groans, but she’s smiling, that kind of smile that crinkles her nose and makes me want to kiss her senseless.
Before I can make another ridiculous proclamation, there’s rustling in the underbrush.
Her eyes go wide. “What was that?”
I halt, holding the bag of M&M’s midair. More rustling.
Lucy freezes. “If this is one of your teammates in a gorilla suit, I swear to God I’m slashing your tires.”
More rustling. I square my shoulders, ready to take on a mythical beast.
Out strolls . . .
A deer.
Trepidatiously. Tentatively. It blinks at us curiously, one foot in front of the other, walking toward my carefully placed M&M offerings. It steps forward, daintily sniffs the candy—and promptly starts eating.
“Holy shit. I almost crapped my pants.” Lucy has her hand on her heart and is breathing heavy. “I thought we were about to die.”
Honestly? Same.
The deer flicks its tail.
Lucy collapses onto the grass, still laughing. Her hair spills around her, fanning out and framing her face like a halo. “I cannot believe you dragged me out here for this.”
I flop down beside her. “You love it.”
“I do,” she says, turning her head toward me, nose crinkled, eyes shining. “You’re ridiculous. It’s perfect.”
She takes my hand as we gaze up through the clearing in the trees. The sky is streaked with shades of pink and orange, the last light of the day filtering through the evergreens like something out of a postcard.
The breeze rustles the branches above us, and somewhere off in the distance, an owl hoots. “I feel like we’re in a nature documentary,” she whispers.
“Have you ever done this before?”
“Bigfoot hunting? No.”
