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She turned the phone over in her hand, glancing up at Cole. “It’s still working.”
“No way!” He chuckled when he studied it. “You really have over sixteen hundred unread messages? You’d better get on that.”
That same heavy reluctance weighed her down, making her feel overwhelmed, and she stuck the phone in her pocket. “Not yet,” she said. “I want to enjoy my Thanksgiving with you.” The tall grass fluttered around their knees, though she could feel the solid earth turning softer as they neared the marshlands. “What are your holiday traditions? My dream was always to sit around the family table and share what I’m grateful for.”
“We do that,” he said.
“And?” She smiled up at him. “Out with it.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “I’m grateful for you.”
Yeah, he was on the top of her list, too. “Lame,” she teased. “You keep making my knees melt like that, and I’m going to start wondering what you want with that kind of talk.”
“Same thing I’m grateful for,” he said. “You.”
She was absolutely going to float away on a cloud of pure bliss if she wasn’t careful. Not making anything any easier on herself, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “That’s what I’m grateful for!” She then planted another one on his mouth. “And that… but I’mungratefulfor your height because you’re too hard to reach.”
He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it while they walked. “It’s okay, babe. I’ll get you stilts.”
She leaned her head against his arm as they reached the lagoon. The water wrapped around the strength of a granite hill. The banks were covered in reeds, and past that was the swampy mud hole, she was sure of it.
No way was she losing her boots again! This time, she was careful to walk on her tiptoes as Cole took her around the side.
Cole didn’t seem to be having any troubles, and she followed where he put his feet, noticing that he stepped on rocks and patches of plants where the ground was more stable. He took her through a thicket of trees.
To the side of them, she noticed a small waterfall trickling through the rocks. He pointed near the edge of the water where a humongous willow tree spread its branches over the still surface. “It’s past that, see?” He tugged her closer, and she noticed a wheel stuck in a mountain of fallen rocks.
“Oh wow!” she said. “Did the driver get buried alive under that rock fall?”
“Luckily he’d gotten out for some water.”
She guessed the livestock hadn’t been so fortunate. Cole had mentioned a ghost horse. She gulped, coming closer to the immense rock pile. The forces of nature were too powerful to contend against. One wrong step and they’d be swallowed by it, too. Cole’s discussion on miracles ran through her mind and she marveled on the wonder of living side by side with the dangers of this treacherous, glorious world.
And yet, Cole had called this land their stewardship—just another blessing to add to her Thanksgiving gratitude list.
Wandering closer, she noticed the mud sucking at her boots. She stopped where she was. Cole let her go to take off his own boots. He shrugged off the shawl collar sweater she’d given, showing a white tee shirt beneath. He stashed everything safely in the reeds.
Matching Cole’s grins with her own, she decided to tease him, “So how come this is the make-out spot?”
“How come it wouldn’t be?” He picked her up and her boots slipped right off, so that she was laughing and kicking her bare feet. Her skirt whipped around the both of them.
No way would she let the mud claim another pair of her Sandbarrel boots! She’d definitely come back for those.
Eva’s arms tightened around his neck. “Are we going to get stuck in the mud again?”
“Not if I can help it.” His breathing grew heavier as he took her closer to the cart. He was fighting the mud, and he stopped briefly to set her down while he rolled up his pants. They were so close to their destination.
“I can probably walk to….”
He didn’t let her finish her sentence as he dragged her up again and took her the rest of the way to the bank where the cart was buried. He let her find her feet again, but she stayed close to him, trying to find the smoothest, flattest granite to walk across.
The old miner’s cart was cracked and weathered by the sun. Its bleached, skeletal remains rose up like mammoth bones. As soon as they reached the historical artifact, Cole pressed his hand against the cart wheel. “Put your hand on the wheel, too.”
Her hand joined his, though she watched him quizzically. “Why?”
“You feel that?” His dancing eyes invited her to join in the fun. “That’s adventure; that’s hardship; that’s struggle and survival and triumph—how we weremeantto experience life. We’re just getting it to rub off on us.”
“What?” she cried, giggling. “Did you make that up?”
