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“That wasn’t my impression.” Maeve’s eyes twinkled.
“We dated a while back, but we’ve gone our separate ways.” No need for details. He drew a cleansing breath before nibbling the sausage.
“Maybe…”
“Maybe what?” He washed down the food with coffee.
“Maybe you’ve gone your way, but Bea hasn’t.” She dipped her fork into the pico de gallo.
“What makes you say that?”
“Subtle details”—she chuckled—“like her death-grip on your arm or her blocking my exit or glaring through the window when you helped me into the truck.”
“Didn’t realize she was that obvious.” He wolfed down the refried beans with a toasted tortilla. “I only mentioned this topic because…” His mouth went dry. “She’ll be at my aunt’s tomorrow for supper.”
“Isn’t tomorrow’s supper a family gathering?”
“Yeah.”
“Then why’s she coming?” She squinted. “If Bea’s not your ‘friend,’ is she another cousin?”
“No.” He laughed at the notion. “But for some reason, Aunt Rosie always includes her—considers her family.” He shrugged, wanting to end the topic. “We’d better eat before the eggs get cold.” He shoveled a forkful into his mouth, then remembered his plans. “After breakfast, how’d you like to drive to the park and see Marianna’s old homestead?”
“I’d love it.” Her green eyes lit up, then dimmed. “But I don’t want to keep you from whatever you’d planned.”
“This is the slow season. Besides, with the snow, I can’t work in the vineyard, anyway.” Enjoying her company, he looked forward to the day’s plans. “The park’s only two hours from here. We’ll be back before dark.”
“I’d really like to connect with Grandma’s stories—walk in my ancestors’ footsteps, touch something they handled.” Her shoulders hunching, she chewed her lip. “But what if the insurance company calls?”
“Smitty will take care of it.” Is she stalling? “Or maybe you’d rather not go…?”
“No, I just don’t want to step on”—she winced—“anyone’s toes.”
Is that all? “Trust me. You’re not stepping on Bea’s toes.” The morning brightening, he dug into his chilaquiles with renewed gusto. Yesterday brought Maeve. What’ll today bring?
****
We pulled into Big Bend National Park just as the sun climbed above the mountains. The sky was cobalt blue, and the snow capping the peaks contrasted against the flame-colored rocks. Despite the frosty temperatures, the mountains’ rugged beauty was inviting.
“Want to go for a hike?” Confined to the passenger’s seat for two hours, I jumped at the opportunity to stretch my legs. “This path’s calling me.” I gestured toward the trailhead with my thumb.
“You sure you’re up for a three-mile hike through creosote and cat’s claw?”
I took in the austere beauty, then laughed. “Three miles is just a warmup.”
Luke parked near a narrow caliche path. “The morning is still chilly, but when the sun’s overhead, it can take its toll. I’ll bring water just in case.”
“I’m not new to desert conditions.” I met his gaze. “Don’t forget I spent time in Afghanistan.”
“I did forget.” He dipped his chin while he fished two water bottles from the back seat. “Ready?”
As I stepped from the warm cab, the icy mountain morning jolted me awake. My senses reeled from the bracing freshness, and the cobwebs cleared. For the second time since my discharge, I sensed a purpose—a mission. What it is, I haven’t a clue, but I’m not adrift.
The frosty air filling my lungs, I closed my eyes and tilted my face to the sun, letting its warm rays penetrate every thought and cell. A sense of place permeated me, and I wrapped my arms across my chest, hugging myself. I’ve come home.
When I opened my eyes, I caught Luke watching and gave a sheepish laugh. “I love the high desert.”
“Apparently.”
