Page 107 of Years in the Making

“Sure. Did you know the lyrics are about a ‘steel horse’ and not a ‘stale horse’?”

“Why would it be a stale horse and not a steel horse?”

“I don’t know, I always thought it was a song about riding a tired horse. Like it’s so tired it’s stale.”

“It’s about their time on the road. Pretty sure the steel horse is a tour bus.”

She makes a tiny “hmm” sound, and I look over to see her staring ahead, her face twisted in concentration. “I’ve lived my entire life singing the wrong lyrics. I wonder how many people noticed but never said anything.”

I squeeze her hand. “I’m sure no one noticed, and if they did, they didn’t say anything because it’s really cute.”

She huffs and her head thuds against the headrest. “I wonder what other lyrics I’ve been singing wrong.”

“Probably loads,” I assure her. “I’m sure we all sing the wrong lyrics all the time.” I lift her hand to kiss it and watch her face relax. “Whatever happened to that jaywalker in your hometown?”

“Edith?” she asks.

“Right, I had forgotten her name.”

“She was still jaywalking last time I checked.”

“Go Edith,” I cheer half-heartedly.

“She was uncontested in the last vote.”

“Jaywalking falling out of favor with the townsfolk?”

“Terrible benefits,”Nellie says.

“Typical.”

A large bird swoops low in front of us, and Nellie leans forward, her eyes following it as it lifts into the sky again.

“Anything interesting?”

I feel her eyes on me and look over. “Depends on what you mean by interesting.”

“Rare.”

She sits back, threading her fingers through mine again. “Just a red-tailed hawk, exceptionally common. But endlessly interesting.”

“You’re such a nerd,” I tease.

“You love it,” she says, resting our hands on her thigh.

She’s not wrong. I keep my eyes on the road ahead but allow a goofy grin to spread across my face. “Whatever happened to that guy who worked with your dad? The one who was in the UK.”

“John?”

“Yeah.”

“I haven’t talked to him in a while. God, it’s been what…” She sighs, her fingers tapping on her right thigh. “Seven months, I think. He was on a video call with my dad when I was over the one day. Calling from the middle of the Amazon, if you can believe it. But he was good, happy, still very into birds, and still very much not my boyfriend.”

“Well, that’s a fucking relief.” I grin over at her, earning a flirty little smile that has me considering pulling the truck over for a little mid-drive intermission.

Nellie has been asleep for two hours. She’d taken over driving for about five and then we’d stopped for food, and by her thirdyawn, I insisted she let me drive again. Kevin is curled up beside her, her hand is still in mine, and the huskies haven’t made a sound since our last stop. Alone with my thoughts, I allow myself to replay the last month.

There had been signs that Nellie wasn’t going to stick to her claim of nothing more happening. I’d catch her watching me, and she’d turn away as soon as I looked, but as time went on, her gaze would linger. I have no idea if she realized it or not, but it was a welcome change.

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