Chapter 29
Ellis
“Are you kidnapping me?” Lucky asks lightly.
I glance over at him in the passenger seat before refocusing on the road.Maybe.
He laughs, and I crack a smile. I hustled Lucky out of bed early this morning so we could get on the road. Where we’re going is a good four hours away at the southeast edge of the state. Hopefully, the drive will be worth it.
Lucky sits nestled low in his seat, a warm jacket on and a thermos of coffee between his hands. He sips it every once in a while, content to look out the window and hum along to the radio. I keep my attention on the road, but I can’t help but sneak the occasional glance his way. He looks happy, the lines of his face relaxed. There’s a smile on his lips that’s been there ever since he arrived home last night. And, no matter how hard I try, I can’t scrub the mental image of him naked and lying on my workbench from my mind.
Don’t even want to.
Lucky’s smile grows when he catches my eye, but he doesn’t ask me what I’m staring at. I think he’s well aware.
When we get to Indian Cave State Park, Lucky perks up in his seat. “We’ve never been here,” he says.
I know.
Lucky hustles out the door the moment the truck is in park. He grabs one of the two backpacks I packed before we left, strapping it on. His grin is wide as he tugs the hood of his jacket up over his head.
“What are we waiting for?” he asks.
I huff a laugh, grabbing the second pack.
We hike for a good couple miles in companionable semi-silence. Lucky takes the lead, following the trail markers and pointing out the occasional animal or landmark. The foliage is beautiful this time of year, the leaves on the trees various shades of red, copper, and burnished gold. There’s a definite nip in the air, but it makes for perfect hiking conditions. We stop for a while near the Missouri River, scaring a deer off that was foraging beneath the trees.
“I assume we have lunch in here?” Lucky asks, swinging his pack to the ground. He makes a satisfied sound when he spots the sandwiches I packed. “Roast beef. It’s like you know it’s my favorite.”
I snort, and we sit side by side on the edge of the trail, looking down at the river as we eat.
“Do you like farming, El?” Lucky asks me out of the blue.
I consider the question as I chew my food. Finally, I nod. It may not have been my idea of a dream job when I was younger, but I enjoy my days. I like working the land. “It’s…comfortable,” I tell him.
He hums at that, looking lost in thought. “You know, I was looking into glass art a bit. You could probably sell your pieces for more online or in a bigger city. They’re really good, El.”
My chest warms at his compliment, but I shake my head. “Don’t need that.”
“Even if it meant you could focus solely on glassblowing?” he asks.
I zip the baggie from my sandwich closed now that it’s empty and set it aside. Maybe I could earn more from the pieces I make, but it was never about money for me. And I’m not sure how to explain to Lucky that I don’t want to turn what was born out of passion forhiminto business. I don’t want glass to become about profits and paying bills. I want it to be from my heart. Not my head.
“Farming is stable,” I finally say. “That’s good enough…for me.”
Lucky doesn’t push it. He knocks his shoulder into mine, letting out a contented sigh as he looks out over the river and all the natural beauty here in the park. I find my eyes, more often than not, straying to him.
Before we get moving again, the pair of us stop to relieve our bladders. I can hear Lucky snickering as we stand behind our respective trees deep under the forest’s cover. I shush him without ire, but he only laughs harder.
When we reemerge onto the trail, I shake my head.It’s like you want us to get caught.
Lucky only grins. “Come on. Let’s go see the caves.”
Indian Cave is accessible by boardwalk. A few other visitors are there when we arrive midafternoon. Lucky pulls out his camera to take pictures of the petroglyphs carved into the surface of the sandy-brown cave walls. There’s history here. You can practically feel it in the earth and the air, like an imprint left from those who came before us.
I can’t help but wonder what imprints we might leave behind. Me. Lucky.Us.
There’s a soft smile on Lucky’s face when he looks my way. He cocks his head slightly, voice quiet when he speaks. “What are you thinking about, El?”