Page 17 of His Texas Claim

Recording the call.

“Bryn!” Stetson called from behind me. “Your stitches⁠—”

“Shhh!!” I said, pressing my finger to my lips. “Shut up.”

The chirp came again, closer, then another answered from somewhere off to the left. Then a third.

It wasn’t just one frog…it was a chorus.

“Come back,” Stetson hissed.

No way.

I waded toward the sound, recorder held up, rain disturbing the surface of the creek. There was a still pool up ahead—a little cove filled with boulders. I narrowed my eyes, then, on top of one of the boulders⁠—

They were everywhere.

You wouldn’t have seen them at first glance…but there were frogs on every rock, in the water, on the muddy bank. I laughed out loud, then leaned down to cup my hands in the water. It came up full of them—no bigger than dimes, hopping out of my hands.

“Hundreds of you,” I breathed. “Just…sitting here. Singing.”

They were, in fact, singing. A chorus of scattered chirps, small and beautiful and perfect.

We were going in the right direction. Wherever these babies came from…the aquifer, I was becoming more and more convinced—we were getting closer.

“Damn it, Bryn,” Stetson was cursing, the sound of his steps sloshing in the creek behind me. “Your damn stitches—you can’t be in here without the waders⁠—”

I reached out with my left hand and grasped his forearm, keeping the recorder held tight in my right.

“This is more important,” I said. “More important than stitches. Listen, Stetson.”

He stood beside me, my hand on his forearm. I stayed there, just holding him.

Listening.

The chorus got back to work now that we were holding still…the sound of chirping frogs surrounding us. I just closed my eyes, swaying slightly…reveling in it⁠—

“Bryn—”

I gasped as I lost my balance and fell directly into him.

Let out a surprised laugh as I held his forearms and looked up at him.

“Goodness,” I said. “Oh—I really need to keep falling all over you.”

Stetson actually smiled. “I don’t mind it.”

I smiled too—looked into his eyes, taking advantage of the brim of his hat keeping out the rain, decided I wouldn’t mind staying right here⁠—

It wasn’t much of a change to kiss him.

Well…I’m not sure if I kissed him or he kissed me first—it was that kind of kiss, like we’d both decided at once that this was the correct course of action. I didn’t know when I’d decided I wanted to do it, but it felt inevitable. Like, of course you’re doing this now, what else would you do? Why didn’t you do it yesterday?

His mouth was warm, the cool rain sluicing off his hat and into my hair. His hand came up to my jaw, thumb along my cheekbone, and I melted into him…forgot anything else in the world existed, including the recorder⁠—

—which promptly slipped out of my hand and fell into the water.

“Oh god—” I muttered, pulling away to grab the recorder. I bent to retrieve it, scooped it into my hand, heaved a sigh of relief.