Sixty-three
Sarah
We spent the next four days having the time of our lives. Aside from the afternoon Peter spent figuring out financial stuff for the barn’s insurance claim, he spent every waking moment doting on me.
Speaking my love language, we discussed the day’s itinerary over a cup of coffee each morning.
We canoed on the Guadalupe, took a nap in the hammock, had a trail ride and picnic, groomed horses in the temporary shelter erected near the corrals, played cards one night with the Holmes children, babysat Wren, and so much more. My heart was filled to bursting.
And between all the wonderful experiences, Peter made sure I rested well and ate well.
Daily, my vitality strengthened and I felt more like myself.
Everything we did produced healing conversations.
And I could not believe how much this crisis revealed to me about Peter.
I knew him well prior to this, but now I could say I truly understood him, and that understanding produced an intimacy and oneness we didn’t have before.
And those conversations spiraled into love that lasted late each night and made us oversleep every morning.
Each day I woke up plastered to his body and ready for my next adventure.
But our return to Colorado loomed ahead like storm clouds. I dreaded leaving the safe cocoon of the fifth wheel, and Peter dreaded saying goodbye to his new Meadowbrook family.
Especially Cooper.
We gathered around the dinner table for the final time.
Despite the trials Meadowbrook had faced in the last week, the morale was relatively high.
Tag decided to board the horses that needed stalls at a nearby ranch for the time being and the insurance claim had been filed.
It wouldn’t be long before Tag had a spiffy barn that reflected Meadowbrook Performance Horses’ expertise and renown.
When plates were mostly empty, Peter stood at the table. “Hey, can I have everyone’s attention for just a few minutes?”
The crowd went quiet.
Peter took a long, deep breath and lifted his head.
His gaze drifted off to the side a little, and I noticed he’d been doing that in the days since I arrived.
After his accident, his eyes seemed constantly anxious, moving from place to place, as if he was trying to see everything.
Now, they didn’t respond to stimuli nearly as much.
It was almost as if they’d settled, resigned to the darkness in a way that brought him peace. The change brought me peace, too.
“Sarah and I have to leave for the airport around ten o’clock tomorrow morning.
And I have some stuff I need to say…” He cleared his throat.
“Of course I’m thankful for the love of my sisters and the way they cared for me over the last month, but the cowboys here…
” His voice wavered. “I’m pretty sure I’d be dead if it weren’t for the way you all dragged me out of the fifth wheel and put a pitch fork in my hands.
” He softly laughed but his cheeks reddened. “I was barely hanging on…”
My throat pinched tight as I listened.
“There’s something special here. Every time I’ve visited this ranch, there’s this magic I can feel.
And, I’m not sure how, but it changes people—I’ve experienced that change in my own life and seen it in Hollie and Bea.
Thank you for your patience with me as I went through some pretty painful growth.
I’m going to carry what Meadowbrook has given me for the rest of my life.
You all are some of the finest men I’ve ever met, and—and I really don’t want to say goodbye. ”
When he sat back in his seat, Tag spoke up. “I actually have something for you, Peter. Something from all of us at Meadowbrook. Here you go.”
Peter reached out.
And Tag put a cream-colored cowboy hat in his hands.
When Peter realized what it was, his eyes clouded.
“Hate to see you go, brother.” Tag said, “You would’a made a fine cowboy.”
Peter’s smile tipped and he said thank you, but I doubted anyone actually heard his strangled gratitude as the conversation around the table resumed. My hand grabbed his beneath the table, and his fingers entwined with mine.
“Put it on,” I whispered.
Obeying, he pulled off his cap and placed the cowboy hat on his head. Cooper, sitting across from us, said, “It looks real good.”
“We need a picture of you wearing that,” I said.
Peter smirked.
But I pouted. “You know, we haven’t gotten any pictures together the entire time. I should’ve thought to take a few. Maybe we can snap one real quick before we leave.”
Cooper looked down at his plate, his brow furrowing as if what I’d said caused him to think very hard about something. He stabbed at the last bite on his plate. “Well, maybe…”
Peter lifted his head, giving Cooper his attention.
Cooper shrugged, refusing to look either of us in the face. “No pressure to accept at all, but, uh, I could take a couple pictures for you—if you want.”
Peter’s brows rose. “With your camera?”
“Yeah, I mean, I’ve only ever taken pictures of nature, but I could try people. ”
Mentally, I ran to keep up. Did Cooper take pictures? Did he have a nice camera or something? Knowing I wasn’t up to speed, Peter explained, “So, Cooper is an eighty year-old man trapped in a thirty-one year-old’s body.”
I got the full rundown on Cooper’s contradictory hobbies while he laughed and protested.
He also gave plenty of jabs about Peter’s desk job not mixing with his double life as a cowboy.
The two of them had a grand old time poking fun at each other.
I thought Cooper’s full, hearty laugh was so contagious, that I couldn’t help but giggle along.
Yet watching them made my heart ache a little.
Peter was going to miss Cooper terribly when we went home.
I wondered what would happen to their friendship—if it would span miles or fizzle out.
Finally, we cycled back to the topic at hand, deciding to have a tiny photoshoot in the morning before we headed out. Cooper instructed us not to expect much because the pictures might suck.
“Where do you want me to take them?” Cooper asked.
A brilliant idea popped into my head with such ferocity that I gasped. “Oh! What about the ridge?”
Cooper looked impressed by that idea.
“Remember where you took me on that trail ride? What about right there—overlooking the horizon as the sun is rising?”
A smile inched onto Cooper’s face. “So…you want to saddle up horses, when it’s still dark in the morning, to go on a trail that’s only accessible on foot in order to take pictures in front of a sunrise?”
I cringed. “Okay, sorry. That’s probably more than you bargained for.”
He shook his head. “It sounds fun. I say we do it.”
A thousand butterflies took off in my stomach when my eyes lifted to the sky.
Cooper’s soft “whoa” as he pulled back on Sprinkles’ reins directed us to stop.
We had arrived just in time.
Strands of light pushed against the twilight over our heads, ribbons of color rolling over the darkness.
The moon and stars lingered, clinging to their fading lights, as the sun prepared to steal the show.
The ridge itself was nothing noteworthy in terms of altitude, but the way it opened up to the sky, the way the hill caressed the horizon—it felt infinite.
Wrapping Praline’s reins around the horn, I slipped to the ground.
Peter and Cooper did the same. In a trance, I walked forward, all the way to the edge, where the ground plummeted into the fields below.
Kerr County was in the heart of the Texas hill country, and the view stole the breath from my lungs.
The ground rolled through the distance like endless cresting waves, the vegetation brushed with brown and orange and yellow as the summer colors finally drifted away.
Peter strode up from behind, his arms banding around me—one over my stomach, the other over my chest. I leaned back and tucked my head beneath his chin.
“It’s perfect, Peter,” I whispered.
For a few moments, we drank in the arrival of dawn.
Finally, I said, “Tell me what I haven’t noticed yet.”
I let my eyes flutter closed, wanting to experience his perspective.
“There’s birds—going back and forth over there.
” He pointed to the left where a chorus of morning greetings flitted from tree to tree.
“Cooper is already taking pictures.” Sure enough, a very soft shutter sound pushed into my awareness.
“A soft breeze is tugging on our clothes and rustling the trees.” The hem of my sweater flapped, and a soft roar of clapping leaves rushed into my mind.
“The dew is so heavy up here that our shoes are already wet.” I wiggled my toes to find my socks damp.
“I smell autumn—like leaves and pine and wet dirt and maybe childhood?” He gave a soft chuckle as I took a deep breath, the fresh air chilly in my nose.
The scent was nostalgic—exactly how he described it.
“And it's warmer here than it is on the trail. The sun’s first rays are already doing their job.” He chuckled softly again.
“And your heartbeat is wild—right here”—he swiped a hand over my heart—“because you’re happy. ”
“I am happy.” With my eyes still closed, my face broke with the biggest smile.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead.
“Hate to break up your moment, but can y’all turn around?” Cooper asked.
Laughing, Peter and I turned to face Cooper and he directed us through a couple of poses and things he wanted us to try, stumbling over his words the entire time.
Clearly he felt awkward, but the fact that he was trying for us was so sweet and special.
“I think I’ve got the light settings good,” he murmured as he fiddled with the lens, his hands trembling just a little. “Kiss her or something.”
Gladly obliging, Peter ran one hand down my thigh and grabbed behind my knee, lifting it to his hip then leaned into me, bracing my back with the other hand. Naturally, I arched into the curve of his body as he swept his lips over mine.
Rapid-fire shutters staccatoed the beats of silence.
I threw my heart into the kiss, wondering how good it made for a picture, but honestly not really caring. If Peter was going to dip me in a kiss right in front of a sunrise, who was I to hold back?
“Alright.” Cooper’s voice was flat, annoyed. “You can stop now.”
Peter smiled against my lips, and the camera clicked. By the time I pulled my eyes back to the sky, the twilight had all but disappeared—the dark blues now light. The purple now orange and yellow. And when the edge of the sun peeked over the horizon, I stood in rapt awe.
It was so huge, so close. Or maybe my perspective had somehow shifted.
My eyes fluttered closed as I let the sun wash over my face.
Even in the darkness, the light stretched on, unfurling from the inside out—intrinsic.
“Peter?”
“Yes?”
“I think…” Hot tears grabbed my throat. “I think I can finally catch it.”
A sharp breath pulled into his lungs at my call back to our beginnings. “You sure? It’s a long way. I might have to take you higher.”
“I don’t think that’s possible. I’m the highest I’ve ever been.” A tear leaked onto my cheek. “Will you hold me while I reach?”
His voice hitched as he whispered over my ear. “You know I will, Sunshine Girl.”
Slowly, I raised my hands above my head and went all the way to my tiptoes while Peter gripped my waist, anchoring me in a way only he could.
And Cooper snapped a picture.