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He glares toward me playfully. “What, never?”

I shake my head and try not to smile. It’s not a happy smile, rather an embarrassed grin. “I mean I did. The first few songs. I think there was one about a tractor, right?”

He glances back toward the road. “Wow. So, all this time I think I’m out here singing to the girl that got away, and you weren’t even listening,” he says, his tone teasing.

“Who was the girl that got away?”

“Really?” He laughs under his breath. “I’ve called you every week for a year.”

“I know, but I figured you… I don’t know. I just… I’m scared.”

“Of what? Is this about rehab? It wasn’t real. I needed a break, so they staged a stunt at a rehab facility in Southern California so I could take some time. I guess it’s a pretty normal thing to do. I don’t know. Some of this shit I just go along with.”

“No, it’s not about rehab. It’s me.” I clear my throat and stare out the window, watching the pine trees grow as we climb further up the mountain. “I… since the thing happened with my ex, it’s been hard to trust anyone, ya know? I mean, I know logically that you’re a nice guy, but my heart is on lockdown.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“It’s not. I have friends at work, and I like the little life I’ve built on the farm. Besides, I’m sure you’ve met lots of women who caught your attention. We shared one night together. That’s hardly enough for you to know I’m the one.”

He laughs and flicks on his blinker, turning into the path that leads toward the old mining camp nestled beside the river. Mountains lift up from the ground and surround the cabins where moss grows up over worn, dilapidated logs. I’ve always loved these settlements. The miners have long since gone, but the remains of their dreams sprawl like a broken capsule. A snapshot of a time when dreams and reality collided, and half the continent was yet to be explored.

The truck engine cuts off and Buck stares at me, scrubbing his hand down over his face. “You ever find yourself lonely in a room full of people?”

I laugh. “I don’t usually put myself in rooms full of people.”

“Well, I’ve been standin’ in a room full of people for twelve months, and I’ve never been lonelier. I’m a paycheck, a dancing monkey, a caricature of what women think they want.” He reaches for my hand, brushing his thumb over the back of my palm. “That night we met was the last night I felt like a person. A real, genuine human being. My entire life has become a show.”

I stare toward him, studying the way his eyebrows pinch together and his hair hangs across his face. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”

“I’m lucky. I know that, but fame comes at a price. Unfortunately, that price is everything real. Does that guy still bother you? I’ve thought about it so much over the year.”

Dragging in a deep breath, I climb down out of the truck and meet Buck in the path a few feet away. My stomach tightens when I see him carrying the picnic basket he brought.

“We don’t have to talk about it, if it’s weird for you.” He grabs my hand in his and we meander down the hilly path of sprouting wildflowers and tall grass as the wind blows the scent of pine and cedar through the air. I’m not sure if I want to talk about Edwin or not, but given the reason Buck and I met, I figure I owe him an update.

“It’s okay. He hasn’t contacted me lately. I think he’s happy with the other girl. Last I heard, they’re expecting a baby.”

“Shit. That’s… wow. How are you handling it all? It’s gotta sting.”

“No. I mean, it did. We were on and off for like five years. We had plans, ya know?” I shrug. “I’m over it now.” I leave out the part about the massive brick walls I’ve built, but I’m sure those are obvious.

“You’re still hurt. I see it,” he says as we settle in a sunny spot next to the stream overlooking the mountain range. I’m not sure this place could be more perfect if it were a painting. I need to come down here more.

“I’m not actively hurting. I just… it’s hard to trust again. I’m so afraid to get hurt, so I think I overprotect myself.” I’m trying to focus on my words but he looks so good spreading out the blanket that my brain keeps losing focus.

With his hand on my back, he helps me down onto the blanket, then settles next to me. God, it feels good to be this close to him. He’s big and warm and he looks at me like I’m everything he’s ever wanted.Why won’t my brain believe it’s real? Why can’t I let myself be in the moment?

“I could help protect you.” He lands his sandpaper palm on my cheek and brushes his thumb slowly. “I promise you… I wouldn’t let you down.”

Swallowing hard, I shift my gaze to the side. “You know, I made this really good peach cobbler last week. Instead of using the regular recipe I have, I added a few apples into the mix. It made a huge difference.”

He leans back and narrows his gaze toward me. “Yeah? What kind of apple do you use?”

“Honeycrisp. Is there any other kind?”

He stares at me, his eyes still narrowed, his body on the verge of something I can’t identify.

“What’s wrong?”

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