Page 44 of Country Mist

“Thank you.” She leaned her head back against the headrest. “I’d explore other avenues of art as well. I love all forms.”

He drove past the car then put on his right blinker to get back into the other lane. “Like what?”

“I enjoy playing with multi-media on canvas and clay sculptures.” She tilted her head to the side as she imagined being able to do more of the things she enjoyed. “Even though I wouldn’t have my event planning business, I’d like to create ice sculptures for big events, just for fun.”

“Have you ever done one?” Tyson asked.

“Not yet.” Haylee shook her head. “But one day, I’ll learn how. It wouldn’t be something I’d want to do full-time, not like painting. That’s my first and main love.” She smiled. “I make tiny paintings that I sell on Etsy, mostly for fun, but it’s a nice little supplement to my income.”

He passed a semi, then a truck with a wide load. “How did you get started in event planning?”

“In 4-H, I made centerpieces and provided them for family events.” She tucked an errant strand from her braid behind her ear. “I became known for them, then an event planner hired me to make centerpieces, and she let me have free rein. I had a lot of fun doing it. When I graduated from college, and she retired, I took over her business, built it up, and started going valley-wide. I marketed myself and made presentations to companies. That’s how I met Henry Goldman.”

“What about employees?” he asked. “I saw how much work you do.”

“I used to have a couple, but both graduated from college and moved on in their careers.” She shrugged. “I dialed things back and just accepted events I can handle myself. I hire 4-H kids to help with any jobs that tax my limits.” She sighed. “Financially, I’m getting closer to my dream of painting full-time, but my soul needs to be able to take up my paintbrush more often. I can’t if I’m too busy to get in any time for my art.”

He gave a nod. “Makes sense.”

* * *

The time passed quickly and comfortably as Tyson and Haylee drove the rest of the way to their destination. They went through Sierra Vista, the biggest town in the county, and headed south to the Huachucas. From the foot of the mountains, they could see Mexico.

Tyson drove up the canyon, the truck jostling along the rough road. The land gave way from low desert to high, and soon they entered forest lands of pine and oak peppered with creosote bushes.

Haylee’s throwing him a curve—that she wanted to share his room—had his mind on things other than gold hunting.

He glanced at her as he drove up the road. She looked so damn cute with her long braid that fell down her back and the sparkle of excitement in her gorgeous brown eyes.

She flashed a grin at him. “Wouldn’t it be crazy if we found gold?”

“You never know.” He smiled back at her. “We’re here.”

Tyson pulled off the road into a parking area amid tall pines and oaks, threw the truck into the park, and killed the engine. After he helped Haylee out of the truck, he hauled the picnic basket out from the backseat, along with an old quilt he’d brought along for the occasion.

“It’s so pretty here.” Her gaze drifted across the scenery as they walked along a narrow path that led deeper into the forest.

The sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a golden glow on everything around them. The air was filled with the sweet scent of pine and birds chirping around them.

But Haylee was the most beautiful thing in the whole damn forest.

They located a great spot for their picnic, and Tyson spread out the quilt and set the basket on it. Haylee knelt next to it and started unloading the contents. She rested on her haunches and took in the beauty of their surroundings.

The sun filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The breeze ruffled leaves and pine branches. She always thought that wind through pine trees sounded like a river might be nearby, but where they were, the river was a good five to ten miles away.

She tipped her head back and breathed deeply. “There’s nothing like the smell of a forest.”

“There’s nothing like you,” he said, and she smiled at him.

He pulled a couple of beer bottles from the basket and grabbed the church key he’d seen at the bottom. He popped the tops, and they clinked their bottles together. He took a long pull from his own, the refreshing liquid quenching his thirst.

She sat cross-legged on the old quilt and bit into her sandwich.

“Great roast beef.” He shifted and dug into a bag of chips and crunched a couple. “You know how to pack a picnic basket.”

“You have my grandma to thank for that.” Haylee bit into a pickle spear. She chewed and swallowed. “She loved to gather all her grandkids together and go on picnics. I think it was her favorite thing to do with us.”

Tyson wiped his mouth with a paper napkin. “My mom and I would go on outings, just the two of us, into the Superstitions.”

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