Page 81 of Rope Me In

“I like musicals. And Judy Garland was a beast.”

I step up next to her, slinging the backpack I have over one arm and putting a canvas bag of food in the same hand so I can put my arm around her shoulders. “I can’t disagree with you there,” I say.

“Do you like musicals?” she asks.

“I can’t say one way or the other. I didn’t watch much TV or movies growing up. At least not the kind you want to tell your friends about.” I wink at her.

She screws up her face. “Seriously, Kade?”

I chuckle, taking my arm from her shoulders to grab her hand. “I’m just teasing.”

“Sure you are.”

I bump my hip against hers as we walk through the rugged terrain, a change from the mesquite-dotted plains surrounding our immediate property. I enjoy the way things have become easy between us. I wouldn’t have guessed this happening the first time I met her, but now I find she’s the easiest person in my life to be around. That’s another reason I decided to bring her here.

After we walk for five minutes, we climb up a rocky incline then come to a stop at the top of the granite rock formation. Both of us are breathing a little harder from the effort.

I drop my items on the ground and tip my head back, inhaling the fall air. It smells like Texas sage and dirt, a smell that’s familiar to me after so many years of coming here. That smelltriggers a lot of memories, some good and some bad, though I find the scent calms my nerves instead of aggravating them. I take that as a good sign.

Presley looks around, tucking more of her hair behind her ears. “What is this place?”

I put a hand on my hip, pressing my ball cap down on my head with the other so it doesn’t fly away. The wind isn’t as bad now that we’re protected by the small canyons and scattered red- and rust-colored rock formations of varying sizes, but since we’re still in the midst of the plains, it’s got some power to it.

This”—I point to one of the formations that resembles a horned figure—“is Devil’s Rock.” I try to keep any emotion or lingering nerves out of my voice. As far as I’m concerned, she knows nothing about my accident. Even if she did, she wouldn’t know where it took place. But I woke up this morning wanting to bring her here, to show her the place that, until not too long ago, was a place of solace for me. It was always a place to sit with nature and clear my thoughts, to shoot the shit with Dad and Gavin and talk to each other, work through our differences.

Not only that, but after hearing Presley play her violin, the desire to share such an integral part of my upbringing, of my home—of mysoul—felt right. Needed, even. Because after witnessing the way she played with every part of her being, I think a part of me that was left in this canyon that night began to heal. The part of me that died here.

I swallow the emotion fighting to come out of me, and I wish I had already told her about what happened here. Then I wouldn’t feel the need to hide what I’m feeling now. I wouldn’t want to grab her and hold her against me, thanking her for something she’s not even aware she’s done. But I’m hoping to change that tonight, because she deserves to know more about me. She deserves to have a piece of me like I now have a piece of her.

“Is the rock supposed to look like devil horns?” Presley’s velvety voice breaks me from my thoughts.

I clear my throat and look at her profile. She squints her eyes and cocks her head all cute, hand planted on her hip. It makes a smile return to my lips. “Yep, that’s how it got its name.”

She stares at it skeptically then shrugs her shoulders. “I’m not so sure I see it, but whatever floats your boat.” I bark a laugh, and she turns to grin at me. “It’s beautiful, though. I can see why you like it.”

I grab her hand and kiss the back of it. “I brought some food. I know it’s a little windy, so if you want to leave, we can.”

She shakes her head. “I’m fine.” She looks to the western sky at the setting sun. “I want to see that sunset you promised.”

I nod, glad she wants to stay, then I jump into action. Much like our first night in the loft together, she helps me spread out the blanket I brought, then we weigh the edges of it down by placing some rocks on the four corners. Once that’s done, I hand her a camping pillow to sit on before laying out the food. It’s just a couple of sandwiches and random sides I got at the general store right before they closed.

I had called Jake in a panic, asking him what to bring on a picnic, and he’d laughed at me. But if we’re getting real here, I’ve never taken a woman I like out for a picnic. I’ve never even packed a picnic, and it’s not like I was going to ask Gran or Momma for help. I ignore the sting in my chest I feel thinking of them and sit down beside Presley before passing her a can of soda.

She stares at it then at me. I know what she’s thinking, and I can’t blame her for that. “Sorry.” I rub the back of my neck. “I left my flask back in my room. I thought we’d stay sober tonight, if that’s alright.”

Her face softens as she tucks her hair behind her ears again, but it just flies in front of her face. “It’s perfectly alright.” She takes the can and sets it next to her. When her hair blows in front of her eyes yet again, blocking her view, she lets out a huff of frustration.

“Sorry, Lemon. We can go eat in the truck.”

She stops me with her hand on my arm. “Not a chance. I’ll be fine.”

A light-bulb moment strikes me, and my eyes light up. “I have an idea!”

Presley watches me with curiosity as I take my pocketknife out of the back of my jeans.

“Um, Kade? Cutting my hair is not the answer.”

I shake my head. “I’m not going to cut your hair.” I pull out a piece of twine that was used to secure one of the cheeses I bought and cut off a small piece. “Scoot up a bit so I can sit behind you,” I say.

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