Page 15 of Rough Hands on the Prairie
"I guess I didn’t."
"Then it’s just me," she remarks. For a moment, the sound of our footsteps on the earth is the only thing between us, but then, a thought crosses my mind.
"You want to get back to it?”
"To what?”
"Travelling."
She pauses for a moment, her footsteps faltering, like it’s the first time it’s really crossed her mind.
"I don’t know," she replies, and she sneaks a playful look at me out of the corner of her eye. "If I had a good reason to stay, I could stick this out a little longer..."
I grin.
"Well, I’ll see what I can do, ma’am," I reply, with a light formality, despite everything that we’ve already shared. She laughs.
"Then I’ll do the same," she remarks, and she casts a look over her shoulder, back down towards the town. "You know, I think I could get used to this..."
"I think I could too," I agree. But, as my gaze lingers on her, I know that I’m not talking about the town, or anyone in it.
I am talking about the girl at my side, who has sparked something in me I don’t know if I’ve ever felt before.
CHAPTER 7
June
Gazing out of the window, I can hear the distant rush of the river a few hundred yards or so from the cabin. But, instead of soothing me like it has these last couple of weeks, it thrums in my brain, a painful tune I don’t know if I am ready to acknowledge.
I don’t know what it is, but the river has been going around and around my head all day – all night, too, dreams of dipping below the water filling my head. When I woke up next to Elias, his body tangled around mine as I had grown used to, I wondered, for a moment, if I was just fooling myself, being out here.
I can hear the rhythmic sound of Elias chopping wood outside, and I wish, for a second, that he was here beside me.
In the midst of all this madness, his presence has felt like the one thing I can cling on to, his strong arms, his rough hands, his sly sense of humor.
I never thought that I’d find so much in common with a man like him, but it turns out there is more drawing us together than pulling us apart.
We both live alone, both pursue our own lives, both go without family or any real connections. At least, until I stumbled into his life.
But the more time that passes, the more I wonder if I am just fooling myself staying here. And if the novelty of having someone like me around is starting to wear off.
I rise to my feet and head to the door, pushing it open and gazing down the path that leads to the river. When I first arrived, I would never have been able to pick it out, but now that I have learned the intricacies of this place, I can see it as clear as day. I shoot a look back towards the spot I left Elias at work, and then gather my skirts in one hand and start towards the river.
It’s calling to me. I can feel it, hear it in my head, even when I try to deny myself. If it’s that mysterious power that brought me here, I need to know if it will take me back. Could it be that I’ve just been dropped here for a short time, and my other life is waiting for me back where I left it...?
I don’t know if anyone would even notice that I have gone. I mean, sure, I have the blog audience, but they’ll just find someone else to fill the gap if I go inactive for a while. My mom isn’t here anymore, and I don’t have any regular friends, beyond the people I encounter for a night or two on the road.
But doubts nag at me as I make my way towards the river, slipping on a couple of rocks, still trying to find my feet. Is it too much, the fantasy of this place? Living here full-time, it’s not going to be this giddy excitement of newness all the way through, no. I have to accept that this could be my life now.
The aspects I imagine other modern women having a hard time with — no electricity, having to keep the fire going and cooking everything from scratch — I got used to living off grid while being in my van. It’s honestly liberating …
The hardest part is asking more of Elias than he’s prepared to give by staying here...
I reach the water’s edge, and it glistens in the cool sunlight just like it did the day I slipped under the river’s surface and found myself breaking water in this time period. I skim my fingers over the top, sending a cascade of ripples outward, not entirely sure what I am looking for. A reflection of my old self? My time, the place I came from, staring back at me? For the rushing in my ears to grow a little less insistent...?
I glance back towards the cabin, which is almost out of sight now. I doubt he will have even noticed that I am gone. But I’ve seen the way people look at me in town, I know my language and the way I carry myself is far from anything they’ve seen before. If I stay, I won’t just be an outcast myself. I could make him one, too. I don’t know if I can drag him down with me, I don’t know if it’s fair. I turn my attention back to the water, and, before I can talk myself out of it, I reach back to undo the buttons on my dress and let the fabric pool at my feet.
I need to know if I can go back. If it’s even a possibility, at this point. This is where I came from, maybe I can go back...
