Page 26 of Falling

PETER

There’s notmuch time to enjoy the cabin or the donkeys, for that matter. I made dinner for us, and we turned in early. Everything is packed back into the Rover early the next morning. Geneva loves horses, so I booked us an overnight ride through most of Zion. We have to meet our outfitter at the trailhead at sunup.

Geneva grew up riding horses. It’s what all of the private school girls did, apparently. I can ride well enough to fake it through the test. I thought it made sense to insist we lead ourselves through the park. Now, I’m rethinking that decision.

“Do you have everything?” our wrangler asks. He’s meeting us at the other end. I paid extra to have our campsite set up. After a day of riding, I didn’t want to have to pitch a tent, cook dinner, and help with the horses.

“Looks like you’ve thought of everything,” I say. “Wait, Geneva. Let me help you.” She’s still nursing her sore ankle. I cup my hands and lift her onto her horse.

Her horse is named Eros, after the Greek god of love and desire. It’s a beautiful red sorrel with a flowing mane. As if it knows it’s beautiful, it prances around ready to hit the trail.

“We’ll see you on the other side.” The wrangler waves and returns to his truck.

I swing up into the saddle. My horse is named Cupcake, I guess after the delicious tiny dessert. He’s large and stout, much like me. He doesn’t prance. As a matter of fact, he barely moves.

“Looks like we head this direction,” Geneva says, checking the map. Also, there’s a sign that points us in the correct direction, but I won’t point that out. I let her lead the way. The smile on her face is worth the beating my legs and ass are about to take. It doesn’t take long to realize riding is better than hiking though.

The views are stunning. The park is rough and rugged, unlike anything I’m used to. We see very few other people passing this way. It helps that fall has set in. The temperature is cold enough to require several layers.

“This is amazing,” Geneva says over her shoulder. “I’m so glad we’re doing this. To think you wanted to just fly to Austin.” She smiles before turning back around.

“Yeah, what was I thinking?” I laugh.

It seems like we’ve been riding for hours when she pulls her horse to a stop.

“Ready for lunch?” she asks. I stop her before she can swing off of her horse. “I can get it, you know.”

“I know,” I say, sliding to the ground. “But let’s not take a chance on tearing up that ankle again.” I help ease her to the ground.

We tie our horses to some sturdy-looking scrub plants. She pulls sandwiches from her saddlebags while I unhook our canteens. We sit on the side of the trail with our legs out to take in the view as we eat.

“Is it weird that a sack lunch always tastes better outdoors?” she asks.

“We used to eat lunch in the tree house Dad built all summer when we were growing up,” I say. “We built a hoist with a basket to haul it up. Mom would load it every day at noon with enough to feed an army.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It was.” We eat for a few minutes in silence. “It’s still there. The tree house.”

“I remember it. It looked amazing. I guess we were too old to still climb trees when I came to your house.”

“We should build Keats one. Rand can send sandwiches up in the summers.”

She smiles and rises to her feet. Taking my trash, she stuffs it back in her saddlebag. I help her back on her horse. She turns her horse toward the trail, and I have to scramble to catch up.

She’s upset about something. Is it the tree house? I know she never had one. Her father would never have spent time helping her build something so frivolous.

“I’ll build you a tree house too,” I say. “I can send you lunch up in a lift all summer. It’ll be your remote office.”

I hear her chuckle. I like that sound. She reins in her horse and turns to face me.

“I don’t need a tree house,” she says.

“What do you need?”

“I don’t know yet,” she says. For a minute, she stares at the scenery. “You’ll be the first to find out though when I figure it out.” She gives me a salute and continues down the trail.

I now have the rest of the day to guess what she needs. I shouldn’t be the man who gives it to her, but I’m desperate to anyway.

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