Page 75 of Cowboys at Coconuts

“I’m determined to do this.” After searching through the stones, Cheri lined up several good, flat rocks and took aim. One after another plummeted downward. Finally, her last rock skipped across the crystal water twice.

Jumping up and down, she shouted, “I did it. I did it.”

“Nice job, New York.”

Cole stood and stretched. “Before it gets dark, want to search for Indian arrowheads?”

Cheri’s eyes widened. “There are Indians around here?”

Laughing, he said, “We have descendants of several tribes in this area, mostly Cherokee, Creek, and a few others. There aren’t Indians running around in a headdress or anything but they’re very proud of their tribes and ancestors, as they should be.”

“When you said arrowheads, I pictured bare-chested Indians with bows and arrows.”

“Have you seen a lot of John Wayne movies?” Cole chuckled. “Arrowhead huntin’ is one of my hobbies. I’ve found several.” Cole explained the different shapes and sizes of arrowheads and how some were used for weapons, others as tools, and some were used for preparing food. “They vary but most are small, maybe one-half to one inch long. They come in all shapes and sizes. Many are broken. It’s a real prize when you find one that’s still intact.” Cole scrolled through several photos on his phone. “Here are some I’ve found.”

Studying each photo with care, Cheri said, “I feel like I’ve stepped back in time.”

“Let’s hunt for some.” Pointing toward a clearing, Cole said, “I’ve found a few over here.” Cheri followed him. Bent over, they studied the ground in silence for what seemed like an eternity.

As something poked out of the dirt, Cheri bent down and dug it out. She held a broken arrowhead in the air. “Is this one?”

“Yup. Good job. That was fast. Dang. I haven’t seen one.”

“Beginner’s luck.” Cheri beamed. “I have to admit I haven’t paid much attention to nature when I jog in Central Park. I usually have music blasting in my ears and don’t notice much.”

“There’s not a lot to do here so I notice the little things.”

“It’s a big change from my life but a nice one.”

“Think you could get used to it?” Cole asked.

Cheri stared into Cole’s cornflower blue eyes and decided to be honest. “I’m not sure. I think I’d miss the city and all it offers.” She noticed his face cloud and grabbed his hand.

“Let’s look for more arrowheads. Ready, set, go!” She took off as Cole chased after her.

Panting to catch up, he said, “You must jog often in New York. You’re fast.”

“As often as I can get to the park. I have to make an effort to find the time and—”

“Shh.” Cole covered her mouth with his. It was a soft kiss that was too short by anyone’s standards. “You talk too much.”

Cheri leaned into him. “You know I’m a mess, don’t you?”

“A hot mess.” His eyes crinkled.

She jabbed him in the sides. “I’m not that bad. But I’m not a country girl. I don’t think you could ever convert me either.”

“I’ll take that as a challenge.” Cole grinned so wide, his dimples showed. “Let’s suspend the arrowhead huntin’. I’m starving, and you haven’t had my famous Hobos.”

“Your famous what?”

Cole smiled. “Hobos. I need to get something out of the truck first.”

Chapter 71

As they walked toward Cole’s blue pickup, Cheri asked, “What’s a hobo?” Her face fell. “We have plenty of those in New York City, sadly.”

“Not that kind of hobo. You’ll see.” Reaching for a plastic Wal-Mart bag from the back seat, he handed it to Cheri as he grabbed a white and blue Rubbermaid cooler. “I’ll carry the cooler if you carry the bag. There’s a small table cloth in there. Follow me. I have a secret dining table in the woods.”

---