on the trail.” She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Apologetically, she said, “Let me get this text. Nate said he’d let me know what time he’ll be free.”
“We moved irrigation dams this morning,” Brooke said. “The next hayfields have been flooded. He should be available.”
Emily read the text and responded before looking up. “Nate’s already in town. I told him we were almost done eating.”
Five minutes later, Nate came up the stairs to the deck, and Emily’s stomach did a little flip-flop that was part nerves, part anticipation. They were changing their relationship, and that could be bad or good. She chose to see it as good—something fun to fill her days until it was time to head back to school.
It took another few minutes for Nate to work his way through the crowd, what with everyone needing to talk to him about something or other. Scout got several rubdowns, and he accepted them as his due.
“Your brother is a popular guy,” Emily told Brooke.
“He knows everybody,” Brooke answered, a hint of pride in her voice.
Nate sat down and looked around at the three women, a grin on his face. “I’m the luckiest guy here.”
His sister groaned, and Monica made a funny face.
“What a sweet compliment,” Emily said, smiling at him.
“That’s it, time to go,” Brooke said, getting to her feet and tossing the second half of her veggie wrap in front of her brother. “I can’t even finish this, you make me feel so sick.”
“Enjoy your afternoon.” Monica waved good-bye.
“What did I say?” Nate demanded in a baffled voice.
“Nothing. They know we’re spending the afternoon together, that’s all.”
He stared at Brooke’s sandwich. “And to make my sister lose her appetite—that’s saying something. Oh, well, shouldn’t let it go to waste.”
Emily laughed as he dug in.
He swallowed and winced. “No meat.”
“Nope.”
He shrugged. “It’s good anyway.”
They sat in companionable silence, finishing their wraps and listening to the music. Nate bought another one, and they split a piece of cheesecake full of caramel and chunks of chocolate. Another Sweetheart Inn dessert. Scout sat down in front of Emily and watched her plate with the same concentration he reserved for a stray calf.
Emily licked her fork and closed her eyes. “God, this is so good.”
“Decadent. And aren’t you amazed a cowboy like me knows those big words?”
They ended up driving a half hour down valley to Mushroom Rock, where the cliffs rose above their parked car. The path through red earth wound slowly up, back and forth through trees and rocks, before reaching the summit, where rocks jutted out like a finger into the sky. The entire valley spread out before them, and Emily swayed dizzily, staring at the snow-topped mountains across from them. She kept wanting to put Scout on a leash, but Nate had him well trained. A simple command called him back to his master’s side. But usually, Nate let him sniff every bush and leave his mark.
“Let’s go out onto Mushroom Rock,” Nate said, gesturing toward a narrow path that led out onto the promontory.
“Out there?” she squeaked, clutching his arm. “The view isn’t any different.”
“But then it feels like it’s all around you. Come on!”
He led the way, and she wished she could close her eyes as the sides of the cliff plummeted down either side of the path. But at last they found a rock to sit on, and her vertigo eased enough for her to enjoy herself again.
“Oh, Nate, this is just incredible,” she whispered. “We feel so . . . above the whole world.”
“We hiked a thousand feet higher than the valley, so we’re pretty high up.”
He opened his backpack and handed her a bottle of water, which she drank from greedily. He poured some into a little portable bowl for Scout. Next he opened a Ziploc bag.
“Trail mix,” she said. “Yum.”
“GORP.”
“Excuse me?”
“Good Old Raisins and Peanuts.”
She laughed. “And M&Ms, too.”
They ate and drank contentedly for a while, nodding at another hiker who passed them to go out onto the very tip. Emily shuddered and briefly closed her eyes.
Nate laughed at her. “So tomorrow I help you put up new drywall.”
“If you’re able. There’re certainly other things I can do if you’re . . . moving dams, or whatever Brooke said.”
“Hayfields have to be flooded to help the crop grow. Every morning and evening we move portable dams and flood a different section of each field. You know that hailstorm we had yesterday morning?”