The sun starts to disappear as the land starts to change again, setting behind snow-capped mountains in the distance. They call to me, the mountains. Heading toward them feels like heading home. Snow begins to fall, landing in heavy drops on my windshield the closer I get to Larkspur.
The ranch where Jack is staying isn’t quite in town. When I turn onto the road, I stop in front of the entrance. A huge wooden archway sits ahead, illuminated by my truck’s headlights. A rusted, metal lasso containing three stars hangs above it, and above that are the wordsLucky Stars Ranch.
Relief pours through me at the sight of it. It’s dark, the stars above the only illumination. Jack was right, the sky here is so much bigger. I want to sit beneath it, listening to him tell me stories about the stars, his arms around me.
Adrenaline spikes through my veins as I press the gas, not entirely sure where I’m going. It’s late, and pitch black, and I hadn’t realized howbigthe ranch would be. Finding Jack seems like more of a task than I had expected.
The road comes to a fork, and I peer into the darkness, looking for a sign pointing me in the right direction, but there are none. My truck idles as I try to determine which way to go. At home, my parents’ house is to the left, and the farm is to the right, so that’s how I decide.
My tires crunch on a mix of snow and dirt as I drive right, hoping to find cabins popping up along the road, Jack’s Jeep parked in front of one of them. Instead, after what has to be almost half a mile, the road comes to an end in front of a wide, two-story home. It’s covered in weathered, wooden siding, and wrapped by a porch covered with rocking chairs.
The house isn’t what catches my attention, though, it’s the group of people standing outside, chatting beside several trucks. They all turn when I pull in, eyeing me warily. Embarrassment claws up my throat, but I force myself to put the truck in park and get out, knowing I can’t just turn around after driving up on what is obviously the ranch owner’s home.
When I climb out of the truck, I wave at the group and call out, “Hey, I think I’m a bit lost.”
I stuff my hands in the pockets of my jeans as I move toward them, snow crackling beneath my boots. A woman with long, blonde hair, and a baby on her hip, smiles at me.
“What are you looking for?”
The man standing beside her is tall, with dark hair and a mustache. Behind him, is a man who looks enough like him to be related. There are a few other adults, a little girl, and two small boys hanging off the legs of another man. On the porch are a middle-aged couple who look sun-weathered beneath the porch lights. They’re all a bit wilder, rougher around the edges than my family and friends back home, but they look enough like them that I feel more at ease than I did when I pulled up.
“I’m looking for someone staying in one of the cabins,” I tell no one in particular, looking around at each of them.
The man on the porch yells, “Who ya lookin’ for?”
“Jack Sullivan,” I answer. “He’s my…”
I trail off, unsure how to finish the sentence, how to encapsulate all that he is to me. Heat creeps into my cheeks as they watch me, like I’ve spent too much time in the sun.
“It’s complicated?” The blonde woman fills in, and I nod eagerly, thankfully.
“He’s staying in the cabin on the south edge of the main horse pasture,” the older man says, directing his statement at the younger generation standing in the yard. “Coop, you want to direct her over there since it’s closest to your place?”
One of the men nods, moving away from the group. He bends to kiss the forehead of a little girl. I think I hear him tell her to be good for her grandparents before he turns to face me. He nods in the direction of my truck.
“Hop in, I’ll lead you there.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, and then turn back to the group. “Sorry to bother you.”
“Don’t worry about it,” the older man says. “Welcome to Lucky Stars.”
I climb in my truck and carefully maneuver the Airstream back onto the dirt road, following the truck in front of me. His headlights slice over the hills as we make several turns. I never would have been able to find the place on my own.
Up ahead, I catch a glimpse of a cabin, standing a ways away from a fence that’s stretched on for yards and yards. When I pulled onto the property, I had no idea how large it was. It makes my parents’ farm seem small.
My heart races as we close the distance to the cabin, and when the truck ahead of me stops in front of it, he rolls down his window and waves me forward. I pull up beside him and roll down my passenger window.
“That’s the cabin,” he says with a tip of his chin. “He know you’re coming?”
I chew on my lip as I look past him at the cabin. There’s a light on inside, although I can’t see anything beyond the curtained windows. “Not exactly,” I say, returning my attention to the man in front of me. He’s handsome, probably my age.
He lifts a brow. “You’re not going to, like, murder him or anything, right?”
A laugh breaks through my nerves. “No.” My eyes connect with his. “I’m going to tell him I love him.”
His eyes blow wide, and a smirk lifts the corners of his mouth. “Well, good luck…” he trails off, waiting on me to fill in my name.
“Stevie.”
