“You don’t even know where we’re going yet,” he says, amusement still lingering in his tone.
“No,” I agree. “But like you said, all of this is what matters. I’ve had a real damn good life with you, Oak. Even when… Even when we were just friends. I don’t regret any of the time I’ve shared with you. And I guess I’m realizing I have a whole lot more to look forward to, don’t I?”
He eases out a careful breath. “Yeah, Law.”
“You got a little something in your eye?”
“Yeah. I do,” he huffs. “It’s my emotions, all right? You make me emotional.”
“All right.”
He huffs again, shaking his head. “You’re such a snarky little shit.”
This time, Oakley puts Clover into a trot before I can swat his leg. I chuckle, nudging my heel against Prairie to follow after him.
We slow before long, the entrance point of the trails up ahead. Oakley doesn’t head back in the direction of the horse barn. Instead, we walk along the edge of the woods, past the petting farm. When Oakley steers us toward the river that cuts through the ranch land, I look his way. He’s biting his lip, and my pulse ratchets.
Oakley slows once we reach the river’s edge. He hops fluidly down off Clover’s back and waves for me to do the same. “C’mon.”
I dismount, smoothing a hand over Prairie’s neck before flipping the reins to the front of her. Oakley leads me toward an old fence line that’s sturdy enough to tie the horses to. Their tails swish in the shade, Clover nudging the grasses with his nose in search of something good to eat.
We walk a little ways along the river, the water shallow here. We used to play in this spot, the current nearly nonexistent, so our parents didn’t mind. I can almost see a shipwreck in the broken log stuck along the river’s edge, white sails blowing gently in the breeze.
I smile at the image in my head, Oakley’s footsteps leaving a trail ahead of me. A crack of a twig. The imprint of his boot in the mud.
It’s no surprise when he stops outside our willow tree. It’s a little more gnarled than it used to be. Some of the branches are barer, and one side of it broke off years ago in a bad storm. It never quite recovered, but new branches started to grow in the scars of the old. Oakley takes a breath before setting his hat on the ground and stepping forward.
The green branches sway behind him, hiding him from view. Following his lead, I set my hat down beside his and walk into our safe little cove.
My breath catches the moment I’m through the curtain of leaves. Oakley is standing near the big trunk of the tree, the expression on his face a mixture of anticipation and…I’m not even sure what. Nerves?
But it’s the hundreds of acorns lying scattered around our feet that have my eyes pooling real fast.
“Told you I’d give you another,” Oakley says, his voice rougher than usual.
It takes me a second to speak. “This is a lot more than ‘another.’”
His laugh is just as rough as his voice. “One didn’t seem like enough. Not for the number of promises I wanna give you.”
“When did you do this?” I ask, bending down to pick up one of the acorns. It’s tiny in the palm of my hand. A token that’s worth so much more than its weight.
“Spent some time collecting them the past couple days while you were packing,” he says. “Maybe it doesn’t replace the one you lost, but I figured it was a start.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “What’s this one for?”
Oakley’s lips twist. “I promise I’ll kiss you every night before bed.”
I add another to my palm. “And this one?”
“Promise I’ll make beef stew anytime you want it.”
My chest squeezes tight. “This one?” I ask, picking up another acorn. The cap is rough against my skin.
“I promise I’ll love you even when you feed my cow snacks you know she shouldn’t have.”
The crinkle beside Oakley’s eyes belies his amusement. I try to hide my own.
I hold up another, and he says, “I promise I’ll worship you, Law. Any way you’ll let me.”
