Chapter 39
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Donovan
“Why does that always take so much longer than I think it will?” Spencer flops into his chair in the office, running a hand through his hair as he exhales.
I get it. Packing up all of the equipment to store for the winter is a beast of a project, and with most of the guides back to school or their regular jobs, the bulk of the work fell to the two of us.
I’m exhausted and ready for a three-day nap.
Settling on a stool, I rest my chin in my hand and smile at my cousin.
“So? What’s the verdict on the season, boss? ”
Spencer rolls his eyes. “Like you have to ask.”
He’s right, and considering we had enough last-minute bookings that we hired two people just to handle logistics, there’s no question that Red Earth River Tours had a record season.
The problem is I haven’t figured out how people found us.
Hot Scoop didn’t post the footage of Derek and me together until a week ago, nor did they ever say where Derek spent his time while he was in Moab.
Granted, there were way too many stories from that tabloid over the last few months for me to bother reading them all, but every time I got back into town after a river, I searched Red Earth on their website and came up blank.
“He saved us,” Spencer says, meeting my gaze with a heavy one of his own. “You know that, right?”
“Of course I do. But I don’t know how.” And it’s driving me nuts. I keep asking Derek what he did, but he just tells me to take the win and turns the conversation to my tours. It’s both frustrating and endearing. “Did he text me?”
“You’re so gone for him, Dono. For an actor. Of all the people to change your mind about dating…”
“I know,” I grumble and hold out my hand. “Give me my phone.”
Spencer unplugs my phone from where it’s been charging on the corner of the desk and hands it to me, rolling his eyes again when I grin at the single notification waiting for me.
“Will you get out of here, already? I don’t think I can handle another minute of watching you go all doe-eyed.
Have fun in California, or wherever you’re going. ”
Blowing him a kiss, I slip out of the office and head for my apartment so I can pack.
The early evening air is still warm, thick with the last remnants of summer, but every day gets a little shorter and brings me closer to reuniting with the man I still haven’t been able to get out of my head.
Not that I’ve tried. Every text, every phone call, every video chat has kept him at the forefront of my mind and helped me see that the man who came out of Cataract Canyon with me hasn’t changed one bit.
He’s exactly himself and always has been, and I love the man he is.
Pausing at the steps, I open the message Derek sent and instantly grin.
It’s a picture with no caption, just a selfie of him lying shirtless in a hammock with the sun on his face and the shadows of trees speckling his skin.
Wherever he is, he looks entirely at peace, like his soul is finally settled instead of chasing perfection.
I love that he found stillness even in the middle of his crazy schedule.
I love just as much his shirtless state, and I’m starting to understand why the young women on one of my Yampa trips were completely enamored by Derek in his latest movie.
Somehow, I almost managed to forget how impressive his physique is.
He’d better tell me where he is ASAP because I…
I squint, staring at the background of his picture. He’s in a forest, but the cabin behind him looks like…
“No way,” I breathe, pulling up the first social media site I can think of.
I have no idea what Derek’s handle might be, but it doesn’t take long to find his official account, @therealderekriley.
He’s been active for the last few months, posting every couple of days, and it’s been a mixture of on-set selfies with costars and crewmembers, snippets of online interviews he’s been doing, and nature shots of places that are so familiar that my eyes start to sting.
One of his more recent posts is a selfie in front of Lower Calf Creek Falls, one of my favorite hikes to do in the fall but one that can be a beast in the heat, which is probably why he’s shirtless and soaking wet.
He likely jumped into the pool or even stood beneath the waterfall.
“Damn you, Derek Riley,” I whisper as tears fill my eyes. I didn’t think he could get better than he already was, but he just proved me wrong.
He said I would know where to find him, and I do.
Though it killed me to stay in Moab until morning, I was too tired to safely get myself to Derek last night, so he had to content himself with the selfie I sent in answer to his own. I got up before the sun, packed my few possessions into my car, and left the river behind without a backward glance.
But now that I’m here, I’m more nervous than I ought to be.
Solace Creek—my uncle’s ranch—looks exactly as it always does, a picture-perfect landscape bathed in morning sunlight.
The main lodge, a rustic log-cabin-style building with red wood and enormous windows, seems to smile at me, welcoming me home as I pull up in front.
The trees surrounding the lodge are brimming with birdsong as the sun peeks out behind them and the branches wave at me in the cool breeze.
I love being on the river, but like I told Derek months ago, this place is a close second as my most favorite in the world.
Somehow he remembered, even though I only told him about the ranch once.
I’m pretty sure that was the same day the fish swam between his legs and he got shampoo in his eye, so I wouldn’t blame him if he forgot.
But he didn’t.
Perfection isn’t attainable, but Derek comes about as close as a man can get.
“So why am I still sitting out here?” I ask out loud, willing my fingers to stop gripping the steering wheel.
Berating my nerves and telling them to take a hike, I steer the car down a narrow dirt lane around to the back of the lodge, parking next to my uncle’s pickup in front of the shed.
With one more deep breath, I push the door open and step outside.
The chill of the air catches me by surprise like it always does, and I’m glad I threw on a hoodie as I was leaving Moab, though this one isn’t nearly warm enough to stave off the low forties temperature.
Sitting high in the hills above Boulder, the ranch’s chill breezes are quite the change from Moab’s constant heat.
Shivering, I wrap my arms around myself as I crunch across the gravel to the back of the house, stopping only when I see someone sitting on the back porch and watching the sunrise.
A grin spreads across my face. “Hey, Pops.”
My grandfather’s weathered smile warms me from the inside out.
He sets his mug of coffee on the table next to his chair and grunts as he struggles to his feet, looking older than he ever has.
He still has a long time to go on this earth, but life seems to have caught up to him more than usual this summer.
“You’re up early, Firefly!” Once steady on his feet, he holds his arms out.
I throw myself into his embrace and hold tight, loving the sound of his childhood nickname for me. “I missed you this summer, Pops. You would have loved the water this year!”
“I’m sure I would have,” he says with a wistfulness in his gravelly voice. “But it’s not me you missed, is it?”
Slipping from his hold, I can’t help but match his mischievous smile. “He’s really here?”
He nods. “Showed up on my doorstep end of June and asked if I would be his Cygnus. Then he changed his mind—said you already rescued him—and asked if I would teach him to slow down instead.”
Swearing under my breath, I press a hand over my heart.
It feels like it might beat right out of my chest. I’m pretty sure the human body wasn’t meant to contain a feeling as big as the one burning inside me.
Not only did Derek remember the story I told him under the stars that first night, but he came here.
To my home. Wanting to learn from the man who saved me from myself.
Pops chuckles and pats the back of my head, leaving his hand there to hold me close as he studies me with keen eyes. “Who’d have thought you’d fall for a man like that, huh?”
Brushing tears from my cheeks, I let out a laugh because my emotions are too strong to hold everything back. “I keep saying the same thing,” I admit. “I don’t know what happened.”
“That boy was meant for you, Firefly,” Pops says. “I knew it the instant he first said your name.”
Okay, but how does Derek say my name? Elliot said something just like that back in Moab, but I never heard anything different about it. It was just…my name.
“Now, what are you doing standing around here with me?” Pops asks, dropping his hand to my shoulder and spinning me to face the porch steps. “I reckon that boy is waiting for you out by the pasture.”
Too overwhelmed by everything to laugh at the idea of anyone calling Derek a ‘boy,’ I turn back to kiss my grandpa’s cheek and don’t waste any more time, hurrying off toward the smaller cabins and the large pasture beyond them.
I didn’t tell Derek when I would be coming, but my gut tells me Pops is right and he’s waiting for me.
He’s been waiting for me for months, just like I’ve been counting the days until I could come find him. I am so ready for this reunion, even if I’m a bundle of nerves and excitement all at once.