Page 189 of We Drank the Dawn

I giggled uncontrollably, finally releasing my glee. “Why do you look so shocked?”

“Because I was in a meeting?” He gave an incredulous laugh.

“I just thought you might want to have those.”

“Oh, trust me, I do.”

“Good,” I said, standing and moving toward the door.

“But what I want to know is why you wanted me to have them.”

“Well, I tried them on and they were a little too tight. So I thought I’d go without.”

He sat back in his chair, his fingers drumming on the arm rests. “Anything else you’re going without?”

“Perhaps.”

“Want to tell me about that?”

“It might be easier to just tell you what I do have.”

Peter waved a hand, indicating I continue. “By all means, proceed.”

“I have some cowgirl boots on.”

“Okay…and?”

“And some socks.”

Peter swiped a hand over his smile, his eyes sparkling. “And?”

“Your cowboy hat.”

“Strong choice. And?”

“And?” I pretended to be confused. “And what?”

Peter dropped his chin to his chest, his shoulders shaking with laughter. “What else, Sarah?”

“Oh! I don’t know. Maybe something. Maybe nothing. You might have to come find out.”

As soon as he stood from his chair, I bolted down the hallway and into the living room. We played this fun game we named hiding in plain sight where I would find an obvious place in the room to stand and he’d have to come find me.

In the living room, I picked a corner right against the wall and the bookshelf. From my vantage point, I could see the small sectional couch we’d had for several years and our books on the coffee table. Mine—paper and bookmark. His—an accessible tablet. My eyes flitted to the canvas I had developed after we returned from Meadowbrook.

Of course, Cooper had majorly undersold himself as a photographer.

As soon as I had opened the file he emailed us, chills erupted over my body. They were moody and magical. And, of course, my favorite was me reaching into the sky with my eyes closed and Peter’s hands around my waist. The light was uneven, harsh in places and soft in others, but somehow Cooper had edited it to make it look smooth—intentional.

Peter talked to Cooper regularly, and he seemed to be doing well. The two of them had had many long talks on the phone and Cooper opened up to Peter about a lot of things. Their friendship strengthened, despite the distance. And when we went back to Meadowbrook in June to meet Jesse and Hollie’s baby boy, Peter followed Cooper around the ranch while I held the baby.

Meadowbrook gave their cowboys a week of paid vacation, and in all the years Cooper had worked there, he’d never taken it. He said he didn’t have anywhere to go, so what was the point?

That changed this year.

Cooper would spend his vacation in Colorado. We were picking him up from the airport the second week of December. The two of them were counting days.

“Come out, come out wherever you are,” Peter called, cajoling me. “I know you’re on this side of the house.” Footsteps padded into the living room. Peter strode to the empty space in front of the couch and put his hands on his hips, falling quiet with a thoughtful frown on his face.