I let her have it. Hell, she can have the whole plate if she wants.
After lunch we carry everything to the sink together. She washes while I dry, and when everything is put away, I lean back against the counter.
“So.”
“So?”
“You’ve had the wood-chopping lesson.”
“I survived.”
“Barely.”
She laughs. “What happens in mountain school next?”
I consider her question. “We could hike up to the overlook.”
“I’d love that.”
“Or I could show you the creek.”
“I definitely want to see the creek.”
“I’ve got an old rope swing down there.”
Her eyes light up. “You have a rope swing?”
“I built it years ago.”
“We’re absolutely doing that.”
I can’t help smiling. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“I want all of it, Barrett.”
“All of what?”
“The mountain. The trails. The creek. Every place that’s important to you.”
For one reckless second, I have the insane urge to drop to one knee.
She kisses me once, soft and unhurried. “I’m going to get ready. Be back in a few.” Then she disappears down the hallway, humming to herself.
I remain standing alone in my kitchen after she’s gone.
I should be careful.
I know that.
Rosalyn talks about home as if it’s waiting for her. She talks about going back, and maybe she should. Maybe it’s what’s best for her.
But if she leaves, this cabin is going to feel empty in a way it never has before.
And that’s going to fucking wreck me.
6
ROSALYN
