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The Ewoks annoy me. Never understood why they had to put that in what is otherwise a fabulous ending to an amazing trilogy.
As far as our outdoor theater goes, it’s a balmy night. A bit on the warm side, but it’s a pleasant warmth rather than an oppressive heat. Give it a month or two, and it’ll be almost too hot to be outdoors.
The herd is closer than the last time. Their dark-brown, soulful eyes stare at me from the other side of the barbed-wire fence.
Every now and again, they huff, blowing sharply out through their nostrils. There’s silence for a bit, then one of them lets out a long, lowing sound. Others follow, until the herd says what it needs to say.
Overhead, a heavy dusting of stars fills the heavens. Without the light of the moon to wash out millions of stars, the Milky Way takes center stage. I understand why that swath of stars earned its name.
It’s majestic.
“Where are we?” My fingers twine with Drake’s as I take another sip of wine.
Drake copies me, only he drinks whiskey rather than wine. We disagree on which is better.
“We’re right where we’re supposed to be.” His warm dark eyes are pools of simmering desire. Although, he seems to be in no hurry to move things along.
Last time, we had a fire and he cooked steaks. Something I don’t think the cows behind us knew about at the time. Today, we dine on smoked salmon, cream cheese, crackers, and other finger foods.
“You know what I mean, silly.” I playfully punch his arm.
I’ve learned not to hit him hard. The man is a solid wall of muscle. Hitting him is like slamming my fist against granite.
“Do I?”
“Is this your land? Or Bert’s?”
It could belong to the Bureau of Land Management with free, public access to all. There are millions of acres of public land in California. I assume the same goes for Montana.
Unlike last time, there’s no blindfold and no assist from Bert setting up our spot for the night.
“Did you recognize anything from the drive up?” Drake turns to me, eyes simmering with banked heat.
Without the blindfold, I enjoyed the drive more than I thought possible. Something about the rolling plains settles in like a long-lost friend. This place feels like home.
“Not really.” I bring his hand to my lips and flutter my lips over his knuckles. “Did you know I have land up here?”
“City girl, everyone knows that.” His brows pinch together, confused. Not the expression I expect.
“They do?”
“Of course. You’re the last McPhearson woman, with thousands of acres under your care.”
“I didn’t realize it was common knowledge.”
“Remind me to take you to the Town Hall. I think you’re going to enjoy it.”
“Really? Why’s that?”
“Your family is a local legend. That’s all I’m going to say for now.”
“Is that good or bad?”
Legend?
There’s definitely a story there.
“It’s good. Strong. Resilient. Charitable.” He winks at me. “Not to mention how much that land means to those who farm it and run cattle on it.”
