Chapter Thirty-Six
Jovie
The knock comes exactly at ten p.m.
I roll over in bed and squint at the clock glowing on my nightstand.
Another knock sounds.
Three firm raps.
My stomach tightens. Because nobody knocks on my door at this hour unless something is wrong.
I throw back the covers and rush toward the front door, imagining a student getting hurt, a staff member facing a medical emergency, or, God forbid, another runaway animal on the loose.
The cabin is dark except for the moonlight filtering through the windows and the flicker from the television.
I unlock the door and yank it open.
Then blink. Axle is standing on my porch.
“This isn’t our usual rendezvous time, cowboy.”
A grin slowly spreads. The moonlight highlighting his handsome face.
“I know. But I want to show you something, and we have to leave now so we don’t miss it.”
Two horses stand quietly behind him. One massive sorrel and one beautiful paint mare.
“I told you, I haven’t ridden in years.”
“And that is unacceptable,” he says as he steps down to the horses, taking their leads into his hands.
“This,” he says, holding up a set of reins, “is Johnny.”
The big gelding flicks an ear.
“And this beautiful girl is June.”
The mare nudges his shoulder.
I stare. “Where are we going?”
His grin widens. “Tonight, I thought we could have a different kind of slumber party. Give our brains a break from the workings of the criminal underworld.”
I blink again. “Huh?”
His gaze falls to my legs. “Put some pants on, Doc.”
I’m wearing my oversize sleep shirt already. His eyes linger for exactly half a second before he clears his throat.
“And your boots.”
I fold my arms. “Axle, it’s the middle of the night.”
“Perfect.”
He’s completely serious.
“Trust me, Jovie.”
He looks excited. Like a kid who can’t wait to show somebody a surprise.
I glance at the horses.
Then back at him.
“You realize this sounds exactly like the beginning of one of those true crime documentaries.”
He laughs, and the deep sound rolls through the quiet night.
“You’re safe with me, Doc.”
“That’s what serial killers say.”
He gestures toward the cabin. “Boots.”
I should probably say no, but we both know I’m going with him, so I let out a sigh and head inside to get dressed. “Give me two minutes.”
“Take your time.”
I disappear inside.
Five minutes later, I’m pulling my boots on. My hair is piled on my head in a messy topknot.
I grab a hoodie from my closet and tie it around my waist. When I step back outside, Axle’s smile returns.
“Where are we going?” I ask again.
“You’ll see.”
I lock my door and slide the keys under the doormat. Then I step down next to Johnny. The horse is enormous.
Johnny lowers his head.
I reach out cautiously, and his velvet nose brushes my palm. Instantly reducing some of my anxiety.
“Hi, big fella,” I whisper.
Johnny nudges my shoulder, and my heart melts as I scratch behind his ears.
“Aren’t you adorable?”
June lets out a whimper and lets me know she wants some loving too.
“Come here, girl,” I say as I move closer.
I offer my hand for her to smell. She raises her head instantly, and I run my fingers down her muzzle.
“You ready?” Axle asks.
I glance at the saddle. Then back at June’s face. Then at the saddle again.
“It’s like riding a bike.”
Easy for him to say. The man practically rode out of the womb on horseback.
He places a hand on June’s neck. “She’s a gentle giant.” The horse flicks an ear. “And I’ll be right beside you.”
Something about the certainty in his voice calms me. He cups my waist and waits for me to nod. His hands tighten slightly. Then, I’m airborne, and the next second, I’m seated in the saddle.
A few moments later, he’s mounted on Johnny.
The gelding dances beneath him, excited and eager, just like his rider—both powerful and confident.
“Ready, Doc?”
“I guess.”
Then he starts down the path until we reach the academy’s gate. Then he guides us to the left onto the trail that leads behind Bryce and Charli’s cabin.
The ranch disappears behind us, and soon, we’re surrounded by thick forest. Towering pines sway overhead.
The night air is cool and crisp. The scent of pine needles and damp earth fills every breath.
Moonlight filters through the branches. Silver ribbons are scattered across the trail and lighting our way. The only sounds are hoofbeats and the occasional rustle of leaves.
I find myself relaxing.
The trail eventually angles downward, and water appears ahead.
The river.
Shadows dance across the surface.
“We aren’t going swimming, are we?”
He glances back at me. “Not tonight.”
Then the path begins climbing. We go higher and higher, and the trees grow denser. The air colder. I tug the hoodie loose from my waist and pull it on over my tank.
Darkness surrounds us, making me nervous.
“Axle, I’m not really enjoying this mystery outing.”
“Relax, Doc. We’re almost there.”
I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me.
Finally, the trees begin to thin, and the trail opens into a small clearing. My breath catches.
A tiny, rustic cabin sits tucked into the side of the mountain, next to a large stream. A narrow dock extends into the water.
The entire scene looks like something from a postcard.
“What is this place?”
Axle guides Johnny forward. “Caison’s fishing cabin.”
I stare.
I didn’t know Caison had a fishing cabin.
The horses stop near the dock.
Everything is quiet. Still. Peaceful. The water reflects the stars like glass.
I glance toward the cabin. Then toward him.
“We have perfectly good cabins back at the rodeo school.”
His eyes dance. “We aren’t staying the night.”
“Then why did you bring me all the way up here?”
Axle swings down from Johnny. Then reaches up toward me.
I roll my eyes, then place my hands on his shoulders. The next thing I know, he’s lifting me right out of the saddle, as if I weigh nothing at all.
I slide down the front of his body. And his hands linger at my waist, and he kisses the tip of my nose before he lets go.
He ties the horses near the cabin and retrieves a blanket and two bottles from June’s saddlebag, and then we walk toward the dock.
The wood creaks beneath our boots, and water laps softly against the pilings.
Axle spreads the blanket, and when he turns around, he’s holding a beer and a small bottle of wine.
Condensation beads along the glass.
“Sorry. I have wine, but no spritzer.”
I accept the bottle. “Thank you.”
He motions toward the blanket. “Have a seat.”
I settle onto the edge of the dock. My feet dangle above the water. The wine bottle hisses softly as I open it.
Axle lowers himself beside me. Close enough that I can feel his warmth, and I lean into it. Soaking it in. Soaking him in.
I take a sip. Then look up at him as he leans back on his hands.
“Look up, Doc.” He motions with his chin toward the sky, and I follow his gaze.
And gasp.
The wine nearly slips from my fingers.
“Oh my God.”
The sky is alive. Vibrant ribbons of color dance overhead—green, pink, purple—moving across the darkness like liquid light.
I stare. “Is that …”
Axle nods. “Aurora borealis.”
My mouth hangs open, and I can’t look away.
The colors ripple and shift and flow across the stars. Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe it.
“I didn’t know you could see them in the summer.”
“You can.” His gaze remains fixed on the sky. “Only up here on the mountain, where it’s dark enough.”
The lights intensify, and my chest tightens. I’ve seen photographs and videos of the northern lights, but nothing compares to seeing them with my own eyes.
“How did you know?”
“There were solar storms tonight.”
I glance toward him and blink.
“I heard somebody talking about it.”
I look back at the sky. Mesmerized as I stretch out on the blanket. The dock is cool beneath me. The stars endless above. The lights swirl and swim overhead, and it’s pure magic.
Axle settles beside me, and I lay my head on his chest. Neither of us speaks for a long time. There aren’t words for something like this.
Finally, I whisper, “Wow.”
I glance to the side. The lights cast soft hues on his face as he looks up. That’s when I realize just how much effort he’s put into this. The horses. The ride. The wine. The timing.
All for me?
I swallow hard while looking back at the display God put on for us tonight.
Then I ask quietly, “Have you ever seen anything more beautiful?”
For a moment, I think he’s still watching the sky. Then I realize he isn’t.
His gaze is now fixed on me, and his eyes stay on mine as he answers, his voice rough, “Never.”