I slip out of the Jeep without another word. When his boots hit the ground next to me, he holds out his hand, and I take it.
The air is crisper up here, a reminder that everything is about to change. Fall in Wyoming is short, and winter will be here, cold and bitter, before we know it. There’s only a few weeks left before it all turns, and if that’s not a metaphor for life as I know it, I don’t know what is.
Unwilling to drop Emmett’s hand, I suppress a shiver at the breeze whipping up my hair.
To the northeast, rock and timber plunge down the mountainside. Remnants of an avalanche or landslide leave Coyote Creek rugged and raw. Trees along the valley floor are already dusted in amber. Fall has unpacked her bags here.
On the contrary, the high slopes of Timberline Peak are green, clinging to summer. Two worlds, split by the ridgeline westand on—one appears to be thriving, one scarred to the casual observer.
Emmett stops at the rickety wooden rail like he’s bracing himself against the view instead of enjoying it.
“It’s beautiful,” I say.
Lifting his gaze from the valley below and all it holds, he finds me. I’ve never felt so seen by anyone with a single look.
His thumb drags over my cheekbone, rough and warm against skin chilled by the mountain air. Still holding my hand, he lifts my knuckles to his lips.
“The most beautiful.”
Those words pull me in deeper yet. By the end of the day, I fear I’ll be so buried in my feelings for this man that I’ll be the one in need of rescue.
“You okay?” I ask quietly instead.
It’s a small question, but his laugh catches like something frayed.
“Honestly?” His eyes drift back toward the valley. “I don’t know what I am anymore.”
I let that simmer. “Try not to get caught up dissecting it.”
“The only thing I know with certainty is that I’m glad you’re here with me. Whatever happens on the other side, knowing I’ve got you is keeping me going.”
My fucking heart hears that and takes off at a gallop.
Instead of saying something I’m not sure either of us ready for, I lean into his chest, taking shelter from the cool breeze kicking up the ridge and swirling around us. Like he always has, Emmett wraps me up in the safety of his arms, doing everything he can to protect me from the elements, myself, and maybe even him—for now.
There’s a bigger conversation waiting for us somewhere down the mountain. One about what this is becoming and what happens when he has to leave.
But Emmett’s handed me so much of himself in such a short amount of time that I can give him a moment to breathe before I ask for things he once swore he couldn’t give me.
“Shall we?” I ask, eager to keep moving, because staring down at the landscape below with my brain on a mission to undermine my heart feels like jumping from an airplane with no parachute.
He gives a small tug on my arm toward the Jeep, his grip clammy. I follow, wrapping myself around his arm because I think he needs the extra comfort as much as I do.
CHAPTER
THIRTY-NINE
EMMETT
Wind tugs at Aspen’s hair the same way it has since we left Timberline Peak. I keep one hand on the wheel, the other resting against her thigh like that alone can keep me steady.
The roads unwind in front of us, each curve dragging us closer to the biggest risk I’ve taken in a long-ass time.
I trust Connie. She’d text me if there was a major change in my grandma’s lucidity.
That’s what’s tightening my chest—not knowing what version of my grandma waits for us. And wanting Aspen to meet the woman who raised me instead of the disease that’s slowly stealing her away.
I check my phone at the stop sign. No message.
