Page 41 of Boston
“No, a change like that hardly ever is,” Boston said.
“You didn’t go to college?” she asked.
“No, ma’am,” he said. “Well, I went for one year, which was just long enough to know it wasn’t for me. I moved back home, and Harry gave me a shot managing his online tour for his last album.”
Cora nodded though she hiked behind him and he couldn’t see her.
“From there, I realized I really liked managing details, and people, and setting things up, and watching amazing events happen at the end of all that hard work.”
“That’s amazing,” she murmured.
“So I started looking for jobs in hotels and resorts, and Jackson Hole is full of them.”
“Yeah, it sure is. Different kinds than here,” she said.
“I have a cousin who lives there, so I moved in with him, and I got a job at this high-end luxury hotel, but it was more office work than I wanted. So I kept looking for other stuff. When the job came up at Silver Sage, honestly, it felt like God had opened the heavens and created the job just for me.”
Cora liked listening to the low rumble of his voice, and she thought a lot about the things he’d said about his beliefs and convictions, his values and the way he loved God.
A pinch started in her heart. She wanted to move faster and be further along than she was, and she had to remind herself that her journey wouldn’t—and couldn’t—look like anyone else’s.
“I’m really glad you like it there,” she said.
“It’s pretty much the dream job,” Boston said. “I mean, besides owning my own ranch and running that.” He pointed to his right. “There’s mud over here. Skirt to the left.”
Cora did what he said, though she would have seen the mud just fine on her own. She hiked with her eyes down, after all, something her father had taught her from a young age. She did try to look up every now and then, so she could enjoy the magnificent scenery she and Boston walked through.
Once she made it past the shady, muddy spot, she asked, “Are we stopping soon?” Her stomach growled as if to punctuate the question, and Boston turned and walked backward. How he did that on a rough mountain trail, Cora didn’t know, but the man seemed to be able to navigate like a goat.
“The spot I had in mind is another half-mile,” he said. “Maybe three-quarters. Can you make it that far?”
“Yeah.” She stopped and fumbled for the tube that connected to her water bladder. “I just need a drink.”
“I’ve got beef jerky and fruit leather,” he said.
She shook her head. “After you’ve been bragging about your grandma’s sandwiches? No way.” She grinned at him. “I’m saving up for lunch.”
Boston grinned at her. “You’ve been drinking enough?”
“Yes,Daddy,” she said in a deadpan.
“All right.” He raised one hand as if to say,You don’t gotta be like that.
Cora didn’t mind him looking after her in some aspects, but she didn’t need him to micromanage what she ate and drank and when.
About twenty minutes later, he said, “Here’s our picnic spot,” and a beautiful meadow opened up as Cora took the last steps to join him at the top of the rise.
“Wow,” she said, her breath coming in spurts as they’d just climbed a particularly steep hill. “This is incredible.”
“It sure is,” Boston said. “This is one of my favorite places in these mountains. If we go over this way.” He directed her to the left, and Cora could barely get herself moving again to follow him. “There’s a lake down below; it’s the best view in all of Wyoming.”
She followed him the one hundred yards along the edge of the meadow where wild flowers still bloomed, their yellow, purple and red heads poking up through the green grass.
“And we’re more than halfway now,” he said. “We’ve only got about two miles left once we leave here.”
“Bless you,” she said, as he dropped his backpack to the ground and unhooked something from the side of it. In a matter of one minute, he had two collapsible stools set up, the top of his backpack open, and was lifting a large plastic container out of the top.
“Sit, Cora. We’re gonna eat.”
