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Hanky Panky
The trail winds and dips,crosses a shallow stream, and then takes a hard right where it empties into a pasture. Jake gets off his horse first and ties it to a tree, then at my request, helps me dismount and tie mine. I might be independent, but I know my limits with a hurt hand. I was already pushing it with riding by myself, the side along my thumb now starting to throb. The numbing shots Ruby gave me before she stitched me up must already be wearing off.
“There,” Jake says, pointing to a flat boulder raised out of the earth. Half of it is in the field, the other half in the forest, tucked under the pines. One grows tall and flush against one side, carvings marring its rough exterior, almost as if it were purposeful. As if it somehow refused to believe their differences should keep them apart.
“After you,” he says and gestures for me to go ahead of him like a gentleman. But it’s probably so he can stare at my butt.
“What is this place?” I ask, low, like I’ll scare an animal if I’m any louder. And I venture out first anyway, whether he drools over my butt or not. What’s new?
His footsteps crunch over leaves and sticks behind me. “My place. I used to come here all the time as a kid.”
I crawl onto the rock, acutely aware that my underwear is likely showing, so I do it quickly and settle near the middle. Pull the back of my shirt down and cross my legs in front of me.
He plants himself beside me and we stare out over a broad expanse of field ahead of us. The afternoon rays slant down from our right, or the west, I suppose, washing the field in a golden glow. The tall grass dances, the breeze raking through it like large invisible fingers. About a half a football field ahead of us is another wood line, and something moves along the edge of it, slow and unaware.
Jake makes a noise with his mouth like he does when he’s coaxing his horse to go, and the head of an animal shoots up.
A deer.
Jakes rubs the stubble along his jawline and removes his aviators. “Doe,” he concludes. Slides them back on.
“This is what you wanted to show me?” I ask, scanning the field for something else.
“It is.” He removes his hat and reverently places it beside him. He reclines back against the rock, propping on his elbows, and crosses his ankles to mirror mine. “It’s the place I used to go when I wanted to clear my head.”
“Just you? Did any of your siblings come here?”
“Only Preston.”
“Boys rule, girls drool?” I tease.
That elicits a smile, though he doesn’t take his eyes off the doe. “Something like that.”
I allow the conversation to die so we can sit in the perfect symphony of nature and clear our heads. And I must admit, even though I initially fought him on it, I’m glad we did. Like at the lake last night, sitting in nature with him isn’t half bad. He’s different out here. Seems more centered.
Back to his roots.
As long as he behaves himself. It’s only a matter of time…
“I liked to watch the animals,” he continues, answering a question that wasn’t asked. He’s ready to tell me more about his childhood, and I’m all ears. He chews on the side of his mouth as he siphons through his memories, and his shoulders bounce with a brief chuckle. “And I never told Dad about it. I didn’t want him to kill them.”
“Kill them?”
“He was a hunter. Killed anything that was legal.”
Oh.
My heart warms at the thought of Jake feeling so protective of them. “They were yours,” I muse, and look for the deer again. It’s like they had some silent agreement. He would come here to watch them, and in exchange, wouldn’t tip off his dad.
“Yeah, I guess they kind of were.”
“And then you told Preston?”
“I brought him here the night he came out of the closet. He said he needed to talk to me about something, but he didn’t want to do it in the house. Didn’t want to go where anyone else might hear, either.”
“And this place was private.”
A thoughtful nod. “But I already knew.”
