The Son & His Hope (The Ribbon Duet 3)
The days were bearable (just), but the nights were intolerable. I never went to his cabin uninvited now. I stayed in his bed at Della’s house and fought with fantasies of what it would be like to be more than friends.
I drove myself mad with illusions.
At the end of the month, Jacob surprised me by showing up at dawn outside his old bedroom door. On his back rested a backpack full of things, and in his hands rested another slightly smaller bag, but just as stuffed with belongings.
Luckily, I’d become an early riser and already had a shower. Crossing the room to let him in, I finished pulling the brush through my damp hair and repositioned my locket to glitter over my white T-shirt instead of growing hot against my skin. “Jacob…what are you doing here?”
“It’s Sunday.”
“So?”
“So no work today.”
“We’ve worked Sundays before.”
He grinned, shoving the smaller backpack into my arms. “Not this one.” Not waiting for me, he leapt off the deck with a move so light-hearted and free, it made him look like a rebellious teenager and not a weathered farmer. “I want to show you something.”
Shrugging the backpack on, I found my boots tossed in the corner and shoved them on my feet. “Show me what?”
“You’ll see.” Holding out his hand, he waited as I tied my laces and closed the glass sliders.
With a soft breath, I shoved down another rush of besotted affection, commanding myself to stay calm as I placed my palm in his.
Unfortunately, his touch was fireworks and dynamite. Electricity pulsed up my arm, defibrillating my heart with pain, pain, pain.
With a wince, I tugged my fingers from his, shaking out the tingles. “Where are we going?”
Jacob frowned at my withdrawn hand. “Forest.”
I smiled. “I’m assuming you mean the place with trees and not your horse?”
“You assumed correctly.” He struck off into a ground-covering stride, expecting me to keep up.
I trotted after him, looping my fingers under the backpack straps and wishing I’d had a glass of water. If he kept up this pace, I was in for some hard exercise. “What’s so urgent to see in the forest?”
“Nothing.” He gave me a grin. “Just want to make use of the day, that’s all.”
“Della know we’re leaving?”
“She doesn’t need to know everything we do. Besides, she knows where I go if I leave for a few days. I take after my father, after all.”
“Wait.” My breath came a little faster, but I was fitter than I was a couple of months ago. “We’re spending the night there?”
“You saying you’re chicken?”
I scowled. “I’m not chicken.”
“In that case, yes.” He smirked. “We’re spending the night there.”
* * * * *
For three hours, we hiked.
My thighs and calf muscles grumbled for the first hour or so, then started whinging on the second hour, and by the final stretch, they howled their displeasure.
Every part of me ached.
Jacob, meanwhile, showed no adverse effects. His concussion no longer affected his balance, and beneath the weight of the backpack his spine was strong and straight.
No signs of his painful fall off Forrest lingered, and I was glad. Beyond glad there hadn’t been any long-term damage.
“This is the spot.” Jacob stopped in the middle of a small clearing. Trees soared heavenward while bracken and bushes thickened the undergrowth, ringing us in foliage protection. The ground wasn’t as leaf-littered as I expected, and a circle of ash-covered rocks hinted a camper had been here not long ago and lit a fire or two.
“Is this where you came when you disappeared those few days?”
He nodded, letting his backpack slip from his shoulders and bounce against the earth. “Uh-huh.”
“You walked all that way with a busted back?”
He gave me a careful look. “I did, but it didn’t take three hours. It took much longer.”
“Why travel so far?” I moved around the quaint campsite, loving the niches made by woodland creatures and the obvious human tampering with a carving or two in tree bark and a couple of logs strategically placed for fire gazing.
Jacob shrugged. “Not sure. Anywhere in the forest would’ve done. Then again, this was the first spot Dad brought me, so it’s kinda special. It’s far enough away to make you glad when you arrive and close enough to home if anything goes wrong. Plus, the farther away from human habitation you go, the purer the river is and the easier the game is to hunt.”
I stiffened. “Please tell me we don’t have to kill something for dinner tonight. I’ll happily starve if that’s the case.”
He laughed. “I should make you gut a rabbit just to show you the reality behind eating meat.”
“Why on earth would you want me to do something so gruesome?”
“Because you’re blind. You’re used to meat coming in pretty plastic wrapping. You’ve been desensitised to seeing an animal give up its life for you to have lunch.”