Slowly, we made our way deeper into the thick of the trees. Every which way you looked, all you saw was a sea of black oaks with little cracks of blue sky sneaking through. Further in and I knew he’d hear it. The gush of the eighty-foot waterfall that was tucked away, hidden from the rest of the world.
“Is that—” His deep voice halted abruptly as the trail widened and the trees cleared. “Holy shit.”
“A waterfall?” I asked, peering in his direction, desperate to see the look on his face.
His eyes glinted as the water’s reflection bounced off them. He flipped his hat backward; I assumed to get a better view of what stood in front of us. He flung his leg over his saddle, sliding off his horse and stepping to the edge of the water.
I followed shortly after him, stepping to his left side. He stuck his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his brown Carhartt jacket breaking up the monochromatic outfit. “Damn. This is better than anything I could’ve imagined. Even the smell of this place is therapeutic.”
He wasn’t wrong. The way the fresh water mixed with the natural soil and mud made the earth smell like it did after a heavy rain.
“And that”—his head dropped back as he gazed up—“is incredible. Imagine the view at night. The stars on full display. Kind of gives you a different perspective, doesn’t it?”
“Why do you think I’ve never brought anyone here? It’s too perfect to share with the world. Right now, it’s still untouched, unscathed from all the shit that’s out there,” I said, motioning back to where we came from. “This place, in a sense, saved me. It provided the quietness I needed when things got too loud. It provided the calmness when things spun out of control, and it provided the hope when everything felt hopeless,” I admitted, once again getting dangerously close to sharing too much.
My mind flashed back to all those years ago, when seventeen-year-old me felt like her entire world was going up in flames. I subtly shook my head, doing my best to keep those memories planted firmly on the shelf.
“I don’t know what you were dealing with back then, but what I do know is that I will cherish this spot. I hope you know how much it means to me that you shared this with me. I promise, it’ll be our little secret, because trust me, I don’t want anyone to know about it either.” The beauty of what stood in front of us was enough to make him smile.
My smile mirrored his. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I asked, glancing back at the base of the waterfall where the water plunged into the pond. The sound was so rhythmic, I didn’t even realize the lack of response coming from Stetson.
Rocks of all shapes and sizes outlined the perimeter of the pond—some were shades of brown while others were covered in a blanket of fuzzy green moss. Varieties of different greenery and vegetation hung low, making it feel cozy and secluded. Little spurts of color had begun to pop up in the form of wildflowers, and in just a couple of weeks, this place would be blooming with them.
“It really is,” he said, and his voice sounded closer than it did before, tempting me to shift my eyes to him.
He wasn’t looking at the waterfall anymore; instead, his waterfall-like eyes had grabbed my gaze, making it almost impossible to look away. He shuffled closer just as the sun went into hiding, leaving the air chillier than before. The mist off the waterfall could be felt even from where we were standing, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Here. Take this.” He offered his jacket, hanging it over my shoulders as he stood only a few inches from me. It was large enough that it fit right over my jacket, providing just the right amount of warmth.
“Are you sure? Aren’t you going to be cold?” I asked.
“Even if I was, I’d still give it to you,” he said, running his hands up and down my arms, the friction producing even more heat, both on my arms and in the depths of my belly. “You’re truly unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Just when I think I have you figured out, you go and surprise me again. You inspire me, even when you’re not trying to. And the best part is, you do it just because you want to help. Not because you want something from me, or because you think it might get you somewhere, but simply because you care. And that alone is worth its weight in gold.” His words were filled with so much conviction, I couldn’t help but smile. He paused, pushing a wild strand of hair behind my ear. I leaned into his touch, desperate for more.
“I just want to show you that you are capable of doing the hard shit. The shit that scares you. The shit that keeps you awake at night. You’re stronger than even you give yourself credit for. We all are. Sometimes it just takes someone else showing us to make us see it for ourselves.”
His finger brushed against my lower lip, lighting tiny fires all over my body.
This was it. I wanted this. I was ready for it. I was finally going to let him kiss me—and actually let myself enjoy it.
I closed my eyes, anticipating the feel of his soft lips on mine, but instead, the warmth of his breath two-stepped across my lips.
“I want to share something with you.” He inhaled, his chest growing the deeper he went. “The real reason why I’m in Quincey Falls.”
My eyes slowly regained focus, his face still only inches away from mine.
“The real reason?” I questioned.
“Thirteen years ago, I made a promise to Jackson. One I never imagined I’d have to keep, but life has a funny way of proving you wrong, doesn’t it?”
I nodded, because wasn’t that the damn truth.
“Ruby, Jackson’s daughter, was adopted.” He paused, his voice full of sadness as he swayed his focus to the waterfall in front of us.
The wordadoptedwas like a thief, stealing my breath straight from my lungs.
“Jackson and Rebecca desperately wanted children, but unfortunately, due to circumstances out of their control, it wasn’t in their cards, so they knew adoption was always going to be a part of their story. They adopted her immediately after she was born, waiting for hours at the hospital, ready to call her theirs as soon as they could.”
My pulse was racing and my throat felt like an elevator door, slowly closing despite my frantic attempt to keep it open. I was grateful the waterfall had caught Stetson’s attention, because had it not, this conversation might have gone differently.
