Page 13 of Pride

“No. I mean, like, nowhere. There’s not a house, a sign of life, or any cars driving past. There’s nothing.” She looked to her left and then to the right. “It’s so peaceful.”

I sat down beside her and stared blankly toward where the cloudless sky met a series of rock formations in the distance. The contrast of red earth against the pale blue sky was remarkable. “This is what life’s all about. It’s the exact opposite of how I’ve been living for the last seven years.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“No need to dwell on it.” I handed her one of the sandwiches. “We’ve got a sunset to watch.”

She unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. “It’s hard to believe that you’re the same guy that saved me from those drunken hillbillies.”

“What do you mean?”

“You were all business when you walked into the bar,” she said. “You beat the crap out of all of those guys and then took the gun from the bartender like it was nothing. Now? Now you’re all calm and serene. It’s not what I would have expected.”

“Contrary to what a pacifist might claim, there’s a time and a place for violence. There always will be.” I gestured toward the thousands of acres that surrounded us. “I prefer this, but life doesn’t always offer us these moments. I take them when I can get them.”

“I think I like that about you.”

I gave her a look. “What’s that?”

“The fact that you can transition from what I saw in the bar to this. I’ve been around violent men, and I’ve never known one to have a side like this.”

“I’m not a violent man. I’m a man who isn’t opposed to resorting to violence when it’s necessary.”

“But only when it’s necessary?” she asked.

I raised my half-eaten sandwich. “Correct.”

“You’ve never hit a woman, have you?”

I choked on my food, almost spitting it out in the process. The thought of a man laying a hand on a woman filled me with anger, and her questioning of me caused me to become defensive.

“Me?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and then met her gaze. “A woman? Not no, but hellno.”

She smiled ever so slightly. “That’s good to know.”

“It’s a man’s job to cherish a woman. To protect her from harm, not cast it upon her.”

“I was in a relationship with a guy who was pretty crappy. He hit me a few times.”

Based on her attempt to drive across Texas in a car that was clearly incapable of making the trip – and that it was filled with her belongings – I’d guessed that she was running from something. I figured she’d tell me about it when she was ready. Now that she was, I needed to be attentive to her desire to discuss it.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. As long as you’re here with me, you’ll never have to worry about it happening again, I can promise you that.”

She patted her hand against the portion of rock that was between us and grinned. “Here on this rock?”

“No. Anywhere. If you’re with me, no one will hurt you. Ever.”

“You can’t make promises like that. If he wanted to find me, he could, and he would. He’s too lazy, though, so it’ll never happen.”

“You might send him a text message, or whatever, and tell him it’s in his best interest not to try and find you. If he’s ever in my presence, he’ll get the ass whipping of a lifetime for what he did to you.”

She gave me an innocent look. “For hitting me?”

“That is correct.”

With her sandwich in hand, she leaned toward me. I expected she was going to whisper something in my ear, but she didn’t.

She kissed me. On the cheek. It was simple and quick, but it was heartfelt.

As she pulled away, her eyes locked with mine. “Thank you,” she said softly.

I swallowed hard and then gave a sharp nod.

Everything that followed was dwarfed by that kiss. In the future, when I recalled the night we drove out to the desert to watch the sunset, my memories never included anything but that kiss, that much I was sure of.