Page 27 of Dead to Rights
Noah sighed. “Just say it.”
“I wonder if it might not be a blessing. Like a blank slate so she can start over.”
“That’s…huh. I hadn’t really thought of it that way, but you might be right.”
“Haven’t you learned yet, sugar? I’m always right.”
Noah snorted out a laugh that disrupted a couple of birds in a nearby tree. “And so humble.”
Seemingly mollified, at least for the time being, he fell quiet, his footsteps a little lighter as they continued along the winding path through the forest.
While it couldn’t compare to the blue skies of Texas or the wildflower fields of his ranch, Finn couldn’t deny that it felt good to be out in nature again. Even if he couldn’t identify the birds that watched them from the spindly branches, he appreciated their songs. And while he hadn’t seen a single cloud since they had arrived, the breeze always smelled of coming rain.
He missed grass. He missed the way the leaves set fire to the hillside in the autumn. He missed sunsets. The way the moonlight danced over the surface of the pond. The howl of coyotes in the distance.
He missed his horses and his dogs. They would be taken care of, sure, but no one would love them the way he did.
Hell, he even missed Buck, the orneriest damn goat on the whole damn planet.
“That’s a lot of missing,”Noah said through their bond, his voice quiet inside Finn’s head.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to leak all that onto you.”
“No reason to be sorry. You know you can talk to me whenever you’re feeling homesick.”Sliding into step with him, he took Finn’s hand and linked their fingers together.“You can even tell me about that ornery goat of yours.”
“What about you?” he said, speaking aloud. “You never talk about home.”
Noah shrugged. “There’s not really much to say. I know not much time has passed topside, but to me, it almost feels like that was someone else’s life. Does that make sense?”
“Not really.” Unlike his mate, he wasn’t yet so far removed from his past. “Ask me again in a couple hundred years.”
“Deal.”
Ahead, the forest began to thin, the trees smaller and spaced farther apart, and flashes of a silvery blue sky peeked through the canopies. The wildlife quieted, and the sound of rushing water grew louder.
“Oh, wow,” Noah breathed when they exited the tree line.
A vast field of Kelly-green grass dotted with white daisies stretched out in front of them, and snowcapped mountains towered in the distance. At the bottom of a gentle slope, a narrow river cut across the landscape, its waters alight with a soft, golden glow.
“Seconded.” He didn’t know what he had expected, but this certainly hadn’t been it. “Did you bring the bottle?”
“Yep.” Digging into his pocket, Noah retrieved a bell-shaped glass bottle with a corked stopper. “Got it.”
They followed the path down the hill, slowing as they approached the sandy banks. Taking the bottle, Finn popped the cork and crouched beside the river, his hand hovering a few inches over the sparkling waters.
“And you’re sure it’s okay to touch it?”
“Rebes said it’s fine as long as we don’t drink it.”
With a nod of determination, he took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and hoped for the best as he plunged his hand into the water.
Nothing happened. He didn’t suddenly forget his name, his past, or how much he loved Noah. His hand got a little wet, and beyond that, it was pretty anticlimactic.
Once he’d filled the bottle, he replaced the stopper and handed it to his mate. “That was easy enough.”
“Yeah, but how do we get her to drink it?” Pinching it by the neck, he held the bottle up to eye level with a cute frown. “It’s glowing. She’s obsessed, not stupid.”
For that, he didn’t have an answer. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Hopefully, she’ll already be gone by the time we get back.”
