Page 73 of Cowboys at Coconuts

“Only snakes, the occasional bear, skunks, rabbits, squirrels, opossums, and maybe a coyote or a mountain lion.”

Cheri stopped in her tracks. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

Shifting his gear, Cole said, “Black bears are pretty rare around here. Coyotes come out mainly at night but aren’t interested in us.”

“And mountain lions?”

“Also rare. Likely, all we’ll see are squirrels and birds. Maybe a snake.”

“Snake?!” Cheri discovered newfound interest in the grass.

Linking his arm through hers, Cole said, “Don’t worry. You’re with me.”

Chapter 70

Stepping through a clearing where a beautiful lush, green patch of soft grass appeared surrounded by towering trees, Cheri felt like she was in the fairytale “Snow White,” minus the Seven Dwarves.

Spreading out a blanket, Cole pointed. “You can set the picnic basket on one corner to hold it down while I pitch our tent.” He unfolded the canvas and removed stakes and a hammer out of the duffel bag.

“Can I help?”

“Sure. Grab that end and pull on the canvas. I need to put stakes in all four corners.” When Cole was satisfied with the positioning, he drove the stakes in the ground. Within minutes, a small tent featuring a screen door emerged. He zipped it closed. “That’ll keep the bugs out.”

“Good.” Rubbing her arm, she asked, “Now what are we going to do?”

“We’re going to enjoy nature. Get down to basics.”

Cheri studied the serene, albeit isolated, area. Growing up in Manhattan, she hadn’t seen many trees and grass except for Central Park. Staring at him, she asked, “Such as?”

Grinning, Cole ticked off his fingers. “Lots of choices. We can skip rocks, drink wine, take a nap, hike, tip cows or—”

“Let’s have a glass of wine and then you can teach me how to skip rocks.” She paused. “Wait. Did you say ‘tip cows’?”

Chuckling, Cole said, “Country joke. Maybe. Some say it’s real; others say cow tippin’ is fiction.” He winked as he unscrewed the cork while motioning with his head. “You’ll find two very expensive, plastic wineglasses in the picnic basket.”

Cheri opened the two-handled wicker basket covered with a red and white checkered cloth. Inside were two blocks of cheddar cheese, pepper jack cheese, Ritz crackers, a cluster of red grapes, and strawberries. “Nice.” She peered at Cole. “I’d say you’re housebroken.”

“I try. Only the best for New York.” He reached for the wine bottle as she held the empty glasses. “What shall we toast?”

“Country boys.” Cheri grinned. “Let’s toast country boys.”

Winking, Cole said, “I’d rather toast city girls.”

“Let’s do both,” she said, and they did. After they drank their glass of chardonnay, Cole leaned back on his elbows, crossed his boots, and stared at the vast blue sky. “I could spend all afternoon lookin’ at clouds, but I bet this bores you to tears.”

“Not at all.” She leaned back, mirroring his posture. “I’ve never really paid attention to clouds.” After pointing toward a cloud shaped like a puppy, she said, “Believe it or not, I’m enjoying the slower pace. The countryside’s beautiful. I haven’t paid much attention to nature and animals before. I like it. I’m kind of surprised myself.” Crossing her ankles, she continued staring at the sky. “Don’t get me wrong. New York is an amazing, energetic, diverse city but I could get used to this peace and serenity. I hate being chased by—” Cheri stopped herself yet again.

“Chased by what? Purse snatchers? I heard there’s a lot of violence in New York.”

Ignoring his question, she weighed her words. “It’s much better than it was years ago. You should visit sometime.”

Cole looked at his dusty boots and worn jeans. “I’d fit right in, I bet.”

“No one would notice a thing, trust me. Well, maybe your slight twang.”

“I don’t have a twang.”

“Right.” Cheri held out her glass for more wine. “Just half a glass. Then, let’s go skip rocks, whatever that is.”

---