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Stella put her hand on her stomach. “That sounds so good.”
“But?”
“You have to remember that I’m older than you and I have to think about things like indigestion.”
I stopped dead where I was. “Why does this ‘older than you’ thing pop up all the time? You’re six years older. Actually, I think it’s closer to five. And what makes you assume I don’t get indigestion?”
“You may get it once in a while, but I get it all the time,” she mumbled, looking away from me.
“Have you ever considered there might be a cause of it other than age?”
“What do you mean?”
“When’s the last time you saw a doctor, Stella?”
She shrugged and didn’t respond.
“So anyway. How about a slopper? I hear that if you chase it with a beer and a shot of whiskey, no heartburn.”
For someone who didn’t eat much, Stella put that slopper away like she hadn’t had any sustenance in days.
“What’s next, or is it a surprise?” she asked, tossing her napkin on the table.
“We can walk the rest of the way down the block or head back to Crested Butte. Whichever you’d prefer. Oh, and by Crested Butte, I don’t mean the ranch. I thought we’d take a stroll on Elk Avenue.”
“What’s that?”
“CB’s version of Main Street. It’s a lot like this one and totally different at the same time.”
“I’m good with whatever.”
I leaned forward and stared into her eyes. “I haven’t known you that long, but long enough that I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say anything like that.”
“I’ve known me a lot longer than that, Buck, and I can tell you, in thirty-six years, I’ve never said anything remotely like that.” She leaned over and kissed me. “Thank you.”
We walked off part of our lunch in Gunnison before getting on the highway that wou
ld take us into Crested Butte. “I know we just ate, but I was thinking of seeing if Ben and Liv wanted to meet us for dinner tonight.”
“I’d love that.”
“I bet it never gets old,” Stella mumbled shortly after we passed Altamont.
“What’s that?”
“How breathtaking this place is. I’m with Rock. I don’t know how you ever left it.” She looked over at me and put her hand on top of mine. “Sorry. I know that’s a sore subject.”
“You know what? Being here with you makes me look at it differently. Maybe it’s time some good memories replaced all those bad ones. What do you say we work on that?”
“I think we have been.” She winked. “I know that there are things I’ll never forget about being here.”
I knew what she meant, and I liked her saying it. But there was a part of me that sure didn’t like thinking about when we’d both have to leave.
If anyone had told me a month ago that getting out of Crested Butte would make me sad, I would’ve called them a damn liar on top of being crazy. But I loved being here with Stella. There were so many things I wanted to show her, share with her, experience through her eyes. I wasn’t sure I’d ever run out of stuff for us to see and do together. Plus, every season brought more.
In autumn, we could drive over Kebler Pass to Aspen and see the most breathtaking fall foliage on the planet. In the early summer, CB turned into the wildflower capital of the west. Thousands of people visited, and even with crowds like that, there were endless trails where we could hike and never see another soul.
The best season of all was winter, though. I’d never taken anyone to the cabin that sat near the top of Mt. Crested Butte, but when there was snow on the ground, we could take a sleigh up the mountain for dinner.
