Page 69 of The Oath We Take

“For what?”

“For not being a bigger man back then. I promise you I will be this time around.”

I shake my head. “It’s asking a lot for such a new relationship.”

Atom’s forefinger tips my chin upward so we’re looking at each other. “It’s new, but it’s been forever. Even when it wasn’t, we still couldn’t stop orbiting each other, any more than the moon can stop circling the earth.”

“My dad is still my dad. His hands-off clause, as primitive as it is, is still in effect.”

“Look up,” Atom says.

“What?”

“Look up. Just do it, Em.”

I do as he says.

“See the moon right there? That’s me. I’ll always be there. You might not see me, but I sure as fuck will always find you wherever you are on God’s green earth.”

“I hope you don’t end up six feet beneath that green earth when we tell my father.”

“One bridge at a time, Em. We don’t need to get any further ahead than bed. Let’s get all this inside.”

Lemmy whinnies. He hates stables most, even after all these years, he refuses to adjust, but to be enclosed and fenced in a paddock would be second on his ‘most disliked’ list. He likes to run in any direction he chooses and chafes against the constraint.

“Hey,” I whisper to him softly when he headbutts me over the fence. “It’s okay, sweet boy. I know, I know. You hate it. Well, it’s just for tonight. And you have Butterscotch for company.”

Atom slips his arms around me. “And I have you.”

He places a gentle kiss to my neck, and I tilt my head to give him more access. I have a fleeting thought that this is what I’ve always wanted. A place away from everyone else, a wild meadow and a stream.

And Atom.

Hudson.

I could never have predicted five years ago that this is where I would end up.

It takes us fifteen minutes to untack the horses and get the stuff from the paddock to the cabin. It’s marginally bigger than one of those tiny homes you see on social media all the time. The entrance is in the center of the home, and Atom unlocks the door.

He hangs his Stetson on the hook by the entrance and flicks on the lights.

“You have power?” I say.

He points behind the house. “There’s a bank of solar panels out back, and I have an emergency generator. So we can have light and heat if we need it. Got a couple of oil-filled radiators that I put on a timer to heat the place up a little on cold winter mornings. But mostly I use the fireplace. Been chopping up a storm every time I’m here. Plenty of dead trees around that need culling out anyway.”

The house is beautiful and practical. There’s a bed at one end, partially hidden by a curtain tied back with a thick rope cord. At the bottom of the bed is a doorway into a pretty white-tiled bathroom. “You have a sewage line and running water?”

Atom shakes his head. “No. It’s a cassette toilet. Got to empty the suckers. But I didn’t want to be trucking out into a field in the middle of the night to dig a hole for a shit.”

I laugh at the visual. “Although, that would be funny.”

He starts to move the groceries into the kitchen, where there’s a small fridge. “It gets old in winter, believe me. I have an electric shower system to bring water into the tub. The outlet is a long pipe out into the field. But you can have a bath or a shower. Might need to give me a little notice so I can fill up the water tanks in the river.”

“Or we could just go skinny-dipping.”

Atom grins. “Or we could do that.”

The kitchen is compact but perfectly stocked. The solid-wood cabinetry is beautiful and rustic sink is charming. Everything is a little imperfect and worn. Like it was made by hand with the love and care of a craftsman. To the left of the kitchen is the living space, with a glass-door fireplace. A small two-seater sofa fits on one side. Two mismatched chairs sit on the other. Along the window runs a long plank at hip height with three stools beneath. A perfect spot for coffee in the morning.

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