Page 13 of Jackson

"Oh, you have no idea," she replied, winking back at him.

The group fell into formation, with Maya and Jackson falling a few steps behind the others. As they walked, the forest around them seemed to come alive with their laughter and banter.. It was as if a barrier had been broken, and now they could finally be themselves around one another.

As they emerged from the forest, the campground came into view, the smell of food already wafting through the air. The sun had started to rise over the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the campsite.

"Welcome back, lovebirds!" Sarah and Eve teased, grinning at the disheveled appearances of Maya and Jackson. “I had to admit I was getting a bit worried about you both.”

Maya hugged her friend and whispered that she would fill her in later. She took in the cozy campsite, complete with blankets spread out on the ground and a roaring fire blazing in the center. Her stomach growled in anticipation of the feast that awaited them.

"Alright, everyone," Kane announced, clapping his hands. "Breakfast is served! Dig in!"

Maya and Jackson’s hands brushing briefly as they reached for paper plates. Their eyes met, and they both stifled grins, both thinking about the last twenty-four hours and the hope of the shower to come.

Chapter Thirteen

Maya slumped in her chair, the click-clack of keyboards around her fading into a bothersome buzz as she stared at the blinking cursor on her screen. The blank document was begging her for words that Maya couldn't summon. How does one even begin to describe a night in the forest that tangled professional lines with personal ones?

"Come on, Maya," she muttered under her breath, "It's just an article, not a tell-all memoir."

She chewed on the end of her pen, the taste of plastic bitter on her tongue. The forest adventure with Jackson had been more than just a story; it was her life. The beginning of her life with Jackson in it again.

"Okay," she whispered, hands hovering over the keyboard, "do I spill the beans or keep mum?"

Her fingers pecked at the keys, erasing sentences as fast as she wrote them. Revealing her relationship with Jackson felt like exposing a raw nerve to the world.

"Transparency versus privacy," she sighed, the eternal tug-of-war of the journalistic soul.

"Girl, you look like you're trying to solve one of those 'if a train leaves the station' math problems," her work colleague, Helen observed, popping her head over the cubicle wall.

"More like 'if two ex-lovers wander into a forest'," Maya quipped back, finally cracking a smile.

"Ooh, spicy! Tell me more." Helen winked, but Maya shook her head, pressing a finger to her lips.

"Sorry, exclusive content for the Stoney Ridge Herald readership."

"Fine, be all mysterious. But remember, the heart of small-town news is it’s connections," Helen advised before ducking back to her work.

Maya mulled it over. Connections. It wasn't just about her and Jackson; it was about the cause, the women's shelter, the community. She could write the article with heart without revealing her own.

Maya started to type. "Jackson Hart, our local hero back from tours of duty, proved his mettle wasn't just in service to his country, but also to his community. With each step through the forest, he carried not just his backpack, but also the hopes of the women's shelter."

The Stoney Ridge Herald's fluorescent lights flickered above as Maya's article took shape. "Who knew," she quipped in her closing paragraph, "that the path to supporting our town's most vulnerable could be paved with muddy boots and lost backpacks?”

Satisfied, Maya read through her article one last time. It was light, airy, injected with enough playfulness to keep it interesting, but grounded with the gravity of the cause it supported.

"Here goes nothing," she said, and clicked. The article zipped through the digital ethers, destined for breakfast tables discussions.

"Alright, Maya," she said, standing up and grabbing her bag with a flourish. "Jackson Hart," she whispered to herself with a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, "get ready for an encore. I’ll be coming for you soon.”

Chapter Fourteen

Jackson lounged on his oversized leather couch, the cushions sagging in a way that mirrored his mood. The Stoney Ridge Herald lay sprawled in his hands. He licked his thumb and flipped through the newspaper with a focus he hadn't mustered since... well, since their college days when Maya's byline was all it took to quicken his pulse.

"Where are you hiding, Maya?" he muttered to himself, leafing past ads for farm equipment. His anticipation built with each turn of the page, before he found it. The headline "Lost in the Wilderness: A Journey of Love and Survival" glared up at him in bold, unapologetic print.

"Of course, she'd go for the dramatic," he chuckled, shaking his head, the corners of his mouth turning upward at the memory of how she felt in his arms.

His eyes devoured the article, and he could almost hear Maya's voice in his head. He leaned back, letting the paper rest on his lap. Jackson folded the newspaper carefully, setting it aside. He stood up, rolling his stiff shoulders back, the action more than just a physical movement; it was a shedding of doubts, a gearing up for what needed to be done. He grabbed his keys, patting the pockets of his jeans to make sure he had his phone and wallet. "It’s time to make her mine completely.”

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