Juniper nodded her head and turned back forward.
Rowan took her seat and started up the engine. She went slowly at first until the boat puttered several yards from the shoreline to be safe enough to pick up speed. Juniper held onto the gunwales of the boat and turned her head back to flash a bright smile at Rowan as the blues, greens, and browns of the water and land whirred together. Rowan had never seen anything more beautiful, more captivating, than the womanin front of her.
After they made their way down the coast and into the alcove, they checked out the oyster colony structure from the boat before Rowan skillfully guided it towards the sandy beach. The gentle lapping of the water against the hull transformed into a soft whisper as the boat's bow gently kissed the shoreline. Rowan slowly trimmed the engine, allowing the propeller to lift clear of the shallows, and she beached the boat so they could get out.
She soon found out it didn’t matter whether they were in the water or on land, the view of Juniper getting in or out of the boat produced the same results in her. She chewed at the inside of her lip as Juniper’s second leg flipped high over the edge of the boat.
“These fucking shorts, Junie,” she whispered.
Juniper’s lips quirked, clearly having heard that comment, and she turned back to offer a hand to Rowan.
“M’lady,” she joked.
“Absolutely not.”
“No?” Juniper giggled.
“Not now. Not ever. I draw the line at the flowers.”
Rowan couldn’t help but push her hands into the back pockets of Juniper’s jean shorts as she walked Juniper backwards across the beach. She squeezed two handfuls as Juniper laughed into her neck. The brush of warm breath tickled her skin and sent shivers of anticipation racing down her spine.
“Okay, we saw the oyster stuff. Now where are you taking me?”
“Ah. Got distracted.”
“I know.”
“Follow me.”
She grabbed Juniper’s hand and led her across the beach. The networked stems of the tall saltmarsh cordgrass thrashed at their shins until they made it to the shorter, fluffier salt marsh hay that crunched underfoot. Once they were a couplehundred yards away from the coastline, the soil firmed up and opened into drier land.
“The oyster midden is that way,” Rowan indicated with a head nod to her left, “but I wanted to show you this first.”
They approached two very distinctly different trees that looked to be growing out of the same spot on the ground. Rowan let Juniper’s hand drift out of hers as she approached the trees in wonder. She stayed back to watch Juniper in the same way.
“What’s happening here?” Juniper asked while turning her head slightly back, a curious expression playing across her face.
“I thought you might like this. It’s a red cedar growing intertwined with a loblolly pine.”
Then Juniper turned fully back around to face Rowan with the brightest smile.
“You know what a red cedar is also called, right?”
“Of course. It’s a juniper.”
“Yes, she is.” She smiled back. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” she added.
“Me either. I couldn’t wait to show it to you.”
???
Juniper walked around the side of the tree, her fingers tracing the sharp edges of the fan-like sprays of skinny, scaly leaves of the cedar. She pointed to a spot, and Rowan approached and leaned over to look with her.
“I like to pick the berries when they’re in this in-between stage of green mixing into mostly blue.”
Rowan picked one and studied it between her fingers. “What do they taste like?”
“Both bitter and sweet.”
