Chapter 17 #2
Cody comes into view, and my body comes to life, practically vibrating with a soft low hum. Lark perks up and I give her barrel a nudge. She doesn’t even need the encouragement—just my consent. Cody picks up his pace. I pull Lark to a trot, my eyes on him as we approach one another.
Cody Lawson was made for a saddle, all quiet strength and practiced control, riding like a man who’s been doing this since boyhood—and it’s impossible not to feel how deeply right he looks galloping toward me.
Watching him stirs an undeniable desire and respect.
The feeling isn’t new, but I’ve never been allowed to indulge it before.
I’ve pulled Lark to a halt without even realizing it. She and I are both breathing heavily from the ride out here. Cody comes up beside us, pulling Jasper to a stop and smiling broadly at me.
We hold one another’s gaze, not saying a word at first.
His smile tells me he’s just as revived from his ride as I am from mine.
“You made it,” he says, a broad grin crinkling his eyes.
“I almost asked if we could meet a little later. Jace is …” Why am I bringing up my brother?
“He’s carrying too much,” Cody finishes for me—a softness in his eyes and a light fold to his brow.
“Yeah. He is.”
“I’m glad you got away.” Cody studies me, his gaze roving over my face and then down to Lark. “Want to ride a bit?”
“I’d love to. I haven’t been on Lark since before I started working for the county.”
“You’ll find your rhythm,” he assures me. “I’ve got a place in mind where we can stop. Follow me.”
He clicks his tongue and Jasper takes off.
I nudge Lark and we chase after them over hills and down soft slopes, through small runoffs and across flatland. We pull ahead at times, and then we ride side by side. Cody tips his chin toward an older tree in a clearing.
“Let’s stop there.”
I follow him along the fence line and we dismount, tying the horses off on posts after giving them a drink in the nearby stock pond.
Cody takes a thick picnic blanket and a bag of food out of his saddlebags. I hold one edge of the blanket and together we spread it out. Cody sits and pats the ground next to him.
I settle down onto the blanket and he leans in, placing a soft kiss on my lips.
“It’s good to see you,” he says, smiling over at me.
“You too. This was a great idea. I needed the ride—and to see you.”
“I’m full of great ideas,” he says with a tease in his voice.
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm hmm.”
He pulls out a small wooden cutting board and fills it with cheese slices, jerky, fruit and nuts. I sit back, watching him. Then he pulls two paper cups and a thermos out of the bag.
“I brought coffee—the way you like it.”
He hands me a cup and I lean in, kissing his cheek, and then lean back. “Thank you.”
Being with him has always been easy, but now there’s a new ease between us—no more barriers or questioning how we feel about one another.
Cody rests his hand on my knee and then he leans in again and places another soft kiss on my lips. “I missed you,” he says, brushing his hand along my cheek and down my neck, pushing my hair out of the way with his fingers.
“I missed you too,” I admit. “How can we feel so old and new at the same time?”
He smiles. “Because you’ve been on my mind for years.”
“And you’ve been on mine,” I tell him.
Our eyes meet and he holds my gaze.
He leaves his hand on my knee, setting his coffee to the side and picking up the board so I can choose a few items to snack on. He pops a blackberry into his mouth and hums. “Man, those are good. Obviously, not as good as the fresh ones in summer, but yeah. Good.”
He picks another one up and holds it out. I open my mouth and he feeds me.
We sit on the blanket, talking about work, the piglets, and McKenna’s wedding preparations.
Cody tells me about his visit to the elementary school on Local Hero Day and I tell him funny stories about Randall.
When we finish eating, Cody pulls out a bar of sea-salt chocolate and we break off pieces, eating it while I lean back on him, nestled between his legs.
At some point we shifted, and I never want to leave this place—his arms, the warmth of his chest behind me, the feeling of his inhale and exhale in my hair.
“I could stay here forever,” I confess.
“Let’s,” he says, his voice low and sedate.
Then he kisses the top of my head and I burrow more deeply into his arms.
In a blink, a lightning bolt streaks through the sky in the distance. The horses’ ears perk. A clap of thunder cracks only seconds later. Lark paws the dirt nervously. Jasper stands tall and alert.
“Rain’s coming,” Cody says, jumping up.
He extends his hand to me and we quickly toss everything into the bag.
He folds the blanket and shoves it into his saddlebag as the first fat drops start to fall.
And then, the storm lets loose in a deluge.
Cody looks over at me and I start laughing.
My hair and clothes stick to my body. The water comes down in sheets.
He walks away from Jasper, his eyes fixed on mine, and when he’s right in front of me, he cups my chin with both his hands and leans in and kisses me. Water falls hard, soaking everything. But we don’t mind. I cling to Cody and he wraps his arms around me. When we pull apart, he smiles down at me.
He chuckles, looking straight up into the sky. “We’re crazy!” he shouts into the rain.
I laugh and something loosens in my chest. I spread my arms, tilt my head to the sky and let the water beat down on my face.
Cody stares at me, a look in his eyes I will never forget for as long as I live.
“We’d better go,” he says.
“Yeah. My family will worry if I don’t come in soon.”
He leans in and places another soft kiss on my lips. “I’ll text you.”
“I know,” I assure him. “We’ll find time.”
I reach up and cup his face. Droplets dot his lashes and brows and water streams down his cheeks. “Thank you for this.”
“Thank you,” he says.
We mount quickly and ride along side by side, the relentless downpour blurring the landscape. At the old oak, we split apart and each gallop toward our own barn.
Jace sees me walking out after I’ve put Lark in her stall with fresh feed and water.
“You got stuck in this?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say with a smile that takes over my whole face.
He studies me—his eyes narrowing briefly—and shakes his head.
“I don’t leave for a few hours. Do you need anything?” I ask him.
“Nah. I just finished up,” he says. “I’m taking a long lunch before I head back out.”
I shower and warm myself by my fireplace, sending Cody a quick text before I leave to meet my friends.
The rain lets up and the sky turns a forgetful blue as if the day had been sunny all along—as if the rainstorm was merely a dream, something private I shared with Cody alone.
My friends and I walk from shop to shop, chatting and catching up, picking out flowers and favors and sampling cake flavors at the bakery before we pile into our cars and drive over to Daisy’s for dinner.
It’s good to be with them. I’m here, attuned to every word, laughing at the shared jokes, but a part of me is still on that hilltop, spread on a blanket with Cody holding me close.
I wish I could tell them, at least let them know, but another part of me cherishes the secret we’re sharing.
It’s difficult having to carve out places and times to see one another.
If everyone knew, we’d be able to do so much more.
But a small part of me doesn’t mind, because we’re forced to make space, and that space is ours alone.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” McKenna nudges me.
We’re splayed out on Daisy’s sectional sofa, all six of us flopped in different directions, the plates from our dessert strewn on the coffee table.
Our friends are all in one-on-one conversations, the soft murmur of our talk and laughter fills the room.
For the time being, McKenna and I are in our own little bubble.
“It’s been an adjustment,” I say, smiling over at my best friend. “Working. Juggling the needs of the farm …” seeing your brother.
“I bet. I still don’t completely get it—why you needed to get an actual job. But I fully support you.”
“I can’t explain it, but being off the farm, doing something important for the town, it feels like I’m claiming a part of myself just for me.”
“That? I understand,” she smiles, softly nudging my knee with hers. “That’s what my social media career has been for me. I guess we all need something that’s ours alone—especially growing up on a ranch.”
I nod.
“Did y’all know Carli did our inspection yesterday?” Sydney announces to the group. “She was like a boss coming in there with her iPad poised.” She strikes a pose and winks at me.
“Are you going to have to inspect the barn before the wedding?” McKenna asks. “Just to make sure we’re up to code?”
“If there’s an inspection to be done there, I’ll make sure I’m the one. The last thing you need is Randall making a laundry list of repairs for you to finish before the big day. I’d just flag anything really serious.”
Our laughter overlaps and then McKenna brings up the wedding. “Cody and Luke made the arch this week. It’s gorgeous.”
She pulls up photos on her phone. The arch is gorgeous, but not as gorgeous as the man supporting it so she can take the picture. My eyes rove over him and my heart squeezes.
Everyone passes the phone around.
“They should go into the woodworking business as a side hustle,” Cass says.
“In their spare time,” McKenna says with a laugh.
“Who’s going to The Barn Dance?” Daisy asks.
“We all are,” McKenna insists, pointing at each one of us in turn. “We don’t get enough time together. I need to see you all there.”
We all agree we’re going to the annual dance.
Cody will be there. But we won’t be dancing together—not this time.