Luke’s truck engine rumbles as we weave between the long rows of trees, the tires crunching over dirt and fallen leaves. The sun is sinking fast, spilling orange light across the orchard and stretching long shadows between the rows. The windows are all rolled down, cool fall air rushing inside the cab.
We shout Ashton’s name as we go, our voices echoing in the vast, open air.
My stomach sinks when I picture him out here somewhere—alone.
It’ll be dark soon.
And with over a hundred acres to cover, it would probably be easier to find a needle in a haystack.
We swing by the old barn first, but it’s empty. I search every inch of the place before finally admitting it’s a lost cause. He’s not here, but the fresh tire tracks from his ATV are a promising sign of life.
At least we know hewashere.
I try calling his phone over and over as we drive. I’m sitting in the passenger seat, knee bouncing frantically, foot tapping against thefloor. When the call goes to voicemail again, something inside me cracks.
“Ash,” I choke out, lowering my voice as I turn my face toward the window. “Wherever you are… please be okay.” My voice breaks. “I—I can’t lose you.”
My eyes burn as I stare ahead at the orchard, the yellow glow of Luke’s headlights cutting through the maze of dark trees.
I suck in a shaky breath. “Baby,” I whisper, barely audible over the roar of the truck. “I love you.”
I sniffle, blinking the tears from my eyes as I hang up and slide my phone back into my pocket. My gaze lingers along the side of the truck as we drive, searching for movement or any pop of color that doesn’t belong.
I try to remember what he was wearing this morning, but it’s all a blur. I was too focused on his beautiful face to pay attention to his clothes.
I squint through the fading daylight. The sun has almost vanished now, a fading purple haze stretching across the sky.
Panic claws at my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs.
“Luke,” I mutter, turning to face him. “I think we should call for help. It’s getting late… and cold.”
He shoots me a glare. “No. We’ll find him.”
“Luke—”
“We’ll find him,” he growls. “Ash is fine. He’s okay. I know he is.”
I swallow hard, hoping he’s right.
We keep driving through the trees, following a narrow path that’s been worn into the ground over time, dirt tire tracks barely visible through the tall grass. I have no idea where we are anymore. We’ve taken so many turns, driven so far that Luke’s gas gauge is creeping toward empty.
I can barely see anything.
I stare helplessly through the darkness, calling Ashton’s name over and over until my voice turns hoarse.
Then I hear the most glorious sound I’ve ever heard in my life.
Ashton’s voice.
“Here.”
It’s weak. Faint. Barely carried over the wind. But I hear it.
My fist knocks into Luke’s bicep, and he slams on the brakes, the truck screeching to a halt.
“He’s over here!” I shout, already hopping out.
I run through the trees, using the flashlight on my phone to guide me. My shoes soak through instantly, wet with dew and coated in dirt as I crash through the underbrush. Twigs snap beneath my feet, rotten cherries squishing under my soles.
