Page 56 of In the Works

I slowed down and walked alongside Sarah. Grabbing her hand, I intertwined my fingers with hers. My throat tightened asI held her hand. I’d dreamt of this for decades. The sun warmed my face and the light breeze breaking through the canopy kept me from sweating too hard.

Sarah smoothed her ponytail as a blush rose in her cheeks. “I’m surprised I haven’t done this one yet.”

Shrugging, I smiled at her. “I don’t think it was cut yet when we were in high school.”

“How often do you come here?” Sarah asked, watching my face.

I frowned as I considered the question. “Honestly, now as often as I should. Maybe once or twice a season. I did it as a winter hike once. It was so quiet with a blanket of snow over it.”

A sigh escaped Sarah’s lungs as her shoulders dropped. “God that sounds so calming.”

“Maybe I can take you sometime.” The words left my lips before I could stop them. It was bold, planning to spend time with her six months from now. I hoped it would be more than friends. But if Sarah ended up choosing Vic, I was determined to keep her in my life – even if it was just as old pals.

Sarah smiled at me. “That’d be nice.”

Before long, we approached the stream that had been trickling in our ears for the last half hour. A quaint wood bridge stretched across it. As we approached, I ducked my head and tried to avoid her gaze.

But her eyes flicked between the railing of the bridge and my face. Her jaw dropped as she stopped in her tracks. “You have to be kidding me?”

29

SARAH

“Did you build this?”I gawked at the rudimentary bridge.

Bri shrugged. “State parks don’t get a lot of funding. I offered to build a new one a few years back. It’s probably due for replacement again, honestly.”

Nudging her, I pushed ahead and started to examine the bridge. The railing was made of lightly shaved down logs, soft and round in their edges. I ran my hand along the rough wood, not flinching away at the scratchy finish left from years of wear.

I stepped onto the bridge, climbing the steep steps and onto the deck of the actual structure. Looking at my feet, I knelt down and rubbed my fingers along the thick planks.

Bri’s feet crunched under the brush behind me, climbing up next to me. “Like it?”

“What is this? Where did all this writing come from?” I let my hands trace the etched words, which were mostly names with a few dates.

Smirking, Bri knelt down next to me. “I got the wood from an old dock on the water that was being ripped up. I didn’t bother refinishing it other than removing the moss and barnacles.Pretty sure it’s a bunch of sailors' handwriting. They’d etch their names into the docks they visited.”

I shook my head, blown away by the creativity. “That’s amazing.”

Walking ahead of me and across the bridge, Bri shrugged. “I told you I needed some inspiration.”

I rolled my eyes as I stood up and crossed the bridge. Halfway, I peeked down the stream and watched the water cascade down the path. If I was right, it would lead to the waterfall off the main trail.

A memory flashed in my mind of Bri and I swimming there as teenagers. We weren’t allowed to but we did anyway. The water was frigid but the air was almost boiling so we were happy to take the relief.

Bri’s fingers slipped back into mine, pulling me back to the present. We kept walking, descending the bridge on the opposite side and trudging through the woods as we walked a few yards from the creek. It disappeared from view for just a moment before reappearing, this time the water was surrounded by smooth, white boulders.

The surface of the rocks had been eroded by decades of running stream. The trail diverted to the rocks, letting hikers walk along the water and rocks instead.

“Wow.” I shook my head as I stared at the rushing water. Peeking into the stream, I found the water glowing amber from the sediment.

Bri smirked. “Right?”

We followed the stream until the trail forced us back into the woods. But before we disappeared into the treeline, I stood still and closed my eyes. The sound of the flowing water stilled my mind as I took in a breath of fresh air.

New Winford’s air was shockingly clean. But there were still cars and businesses and farms. There was nothing quite likeescaping into the untouched mountains and taking in the breeze off of the hidden streams.

Once my lungs felt full of cool air, I nodded and headed back onto the trail. Bri smiled as she watched me taking it all in.

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