Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Samantha
Turned out that Wynn was up for a weekend with the D’Angelos. Caleb and I worked on Thursday before we all made the drive back to the farm. Then we spent the late afternoon in the fresh outdoors touring the farm, walking the fields, and checking out the spring crops—asparagus, kale, spring peas, radishes, and spinach—so of course our grilled-out chicken dinner included a giant fresh salad. The D’Angelos, with their easy friendliness, had been really welcoming to Wynn, who seemed to be feeling a little better.
That night, I’d taken a shower and was trying to unwind, propped up on the pretty pillows in the D’Angelos’ guest bedroom. I attempted to read a book on my phone, but I couldn’t concentrate, thinking of Caleb. It seemed that the universe was conspiring against us getting together, but what could I do? Go knocking on his bedroom door in his parents’ house—ugh, no. I’d taken to deleting old emails and resolving to spend another restless night dreaming about him when there was a knock on my door.
I thought that Wynn, exhausted from all the physical activity, would’ve crashed hard, but I grabbed her fuzzy gray slippers that she’d forgotten earlier from a cute antique bench and threw open the door, thrusting them out to her.
Except it wasn’t her. It was Caleb. He’d showered too, judging by his damp hair, that soft gray T-shirt I loved, and the familiar soapy scent that suddenly filled my senses.
“Um, thanks, but I actually prefer pink.” He flicked an appreciative glance at my floral pj shorts, then looked me in the eye with a heat and an intensity that gave me goose bumps.
I tossed the slippers aside. “You again?” I said, trying to frown through the absolute pleasure and surprise of seeing him. “It’s ten o’clock.”
I said it with the outrage of getting a page in the hospital at around two a.m., but I wasn’t outraged at all. I was excited, thrilled, and troubled. Troubled because I wanted him so badly, but I didn’t want to tackily drag him through my door and rip his shirt off. Or maybe I should?
He leaned casually against the doorframe. “The night is young. And I want to show you something.” That took me by surprise. “You’ll love it.”
“Just a sec.” I couldn’t run fast enough into the bathroom to throw on a T-shirt and shorts.
“Maybe grab a sweatshirt,” he called through the door. “It’s always a little chilly in the country at night no matter how warm the day is.” I reached into my duffel and pulled out his old UW one.
“I’m ready,” I said as I caught up to him at the door.
“Perfect.” He smiled and took my hand. “I’m ready too.” He reached down and kissed me quickly on the lips. “Just for the record, I never got lucky with that shirt. Until maybe now I might.”
Oh hurray, at last. “Hmm,” I said, unable to suppress a giant grin. “Just where are we going?” Honestly, I couldn’t have cared less. I would’ve gone with him anywhere.
“Shh, woman,” he said, grabbing my hand. “Trust me.”
As we ran down the stairs to the front door, Beth and Steven, who were sitting on the couch in the family room, glanced up. I tried to release my hand, but Caleb held on tightly. “Hey, Ma, Dad,” he said casually. “We’re going for a little ride. I have a key, so don’t wait up.”
“Have fun,” Beth said.
“See you tomorrow,” Steven said.
“Did you see that?” I heard Beth ask in a not-whisper. “They were holding hands!”
“‘Don’t wait up?’” I asked. “Where exactly are you taking me?”
“Not far,” he said in a mysterious tone as he handed me the keys to his truck. “We’re going a little off road.”
I swallowed. Driving his giant truck—well, to me it seemed giant—on regular roads in broad daylight was challenging enough. But off road? In the dark?
“Don’t worry,” he said. “The four-wheel drive almost always kicks in before it slides too far down the hill.”
That was too much. “Please don’t say ‘slide down the hill’ even if you’re kidding.”
“I’m sorry. Really sorry.” But then he howled with laughter. “I’m teasing you. Come on.”
I drove us a ways down the main road that ran in front of the farm until it turned onto a dirt road that ran alongside a field and then plunged into a thick line of trees. In the woods, the road narrowed. “Okay, now I’m scared.”
“It’s just a little farther.” Caleb craned his neck to see the sky out the truck window. “No moon tonight—it’s really dark. Just what I wanted.” He put a hand on my arm. The road led straight into a clearing. “Now stop and cut the lights.”
We were in the middle of a giant grassy field rimmed with trees. The air was cool and earthy-scented, and the sky surrounded us with an endless canopy of stars. “It’s beautiful,” I said as I glanced around everywhere. “It feels like there’s no one around for miles.”
“Just us and the crickets.” As he grinned. I could see the flash of his white teeth in the darkness. He was right about that—the crickets were singing their summer soundtrack all around us. He grabbed his crutches and opened the door. “Come on. I want to show you the stars.”
He sounded excited, full of that same exuberance he always had over the simplest things, and I was giddy with anticipation. I caught up to him about ten feet in front of the truck, where he stood, balanced on his crutches, looking up, transfixed by the thousands of pinpoints of light dotting the inky dark sky. He glanced over at me, I think to point something out, but caught me staring at him, not the stars. “What do you think?”
“I think you have all the excitement of a little kid.”
“Well,” he said quietly, “if I have that, then I want to give it all to you.”
My hand flew up to my chest, pressing over my rapidly beating heart. He had no idea how much it meant that he wanted to share with me all the joy and thrills of this special night.
He kept his hand on my shoulder to steady himself as he pointed out all the planets and constellations I’d learned about in school, in Greek mythology, in science class. I loved the quiet cadence of his voice, but I could barely focus.
“Sam?” I suddenly heard my name. “What are you thinking?”
I wrapped my arms around him, making him turn to face me. “My grandmother was wonderful, but there was no time or money for spontaneous outings. This is… something I’ve never experienced.” There was tenderness in his eyes. “Don’t feel sorry for me. I’m just trying to say that you’ve opened my eyes to…”
“Fun. I want to show you so much fun. I want to amaze you.” He sounded so intense, so sure, so full of emotion that I believed him. I believed every word. He lightly touched the space between my brows. “I want to show you things that make those little lines appear between your eyes when you’re concentrating really deeply. I want to show you things that will make you full of wonder at what you’re seeing.”
“I am full of wonder at what I’m seeing,” I said as I looked into his eyes.
He pulled me in and softly kissed my forehead. The summer night was quiet except for the low and steady song of crickets, the damp, dewy smell of growing things surrounding us. In the darkness, there was only the sensation of his nearness, of feeling his warm, solid body, hearing his quiet breathing. We stood together like that for a minute, my whole body seeming to hold its breath in anticipation. I was filled with a dizzy rush, my pulse pounding, every muscle poised and tense.
“I thought we could enjoy the stars from the back of my truck,” he said. “I blew up an air mattress.”
“Nice move.” I couldn’t resist that.
“Hey, give me a break. I’ve got a bum leg.”
I was already halfway to the truck, beating him there. Giving a nod, he opened the tailgate and handed me his crutches, then braced and lifted himself up to the bed of the truck. Then he reached out a hand and helped me up.
We lay there together, side by side, enjoying being together at last. Caleb took my hand, bringing it slowly to his lips. “No streetlights, no farmhouse lights, no people. It’s like we’re the only ones on earth. Us and millions of stars.”
As he turned to me, I yielded to his lips, felt the taste of him on my tongue, ran my hands through the thick silk of his hair, felt his back tense and arch as he pulled me to him. We spoke no more words. For once I forgot to protest, to warn myself, to pull away.
I’d had sex but I’d never made love. Or been made love to. And as we shattered into pieces, he was there, kissing me, holding me, murmuring softly how beautiful I was, how lucky he was to be here with me. I was completely overwhelmed. As a tear escaped from the corner of my eye, he caught it with the tip of his finger.
I traced his forehead, the ridge of his brow, the curve of his cheek, the strength of his jaw, memorizing every bit of him. “Are you real?” escaped from my lips. Silly words, but they were a reflection of what I was feeling—that this was a brief blip of time, too pure, too magical to ever last. Things in my world simply didn’t.
He took my hand and kissed it. Looked deeply into my eyes. “Don’t be afraid,” he said as if he could read my mind. “I got you.”
He pulled me to him, reached over for the blanket, and tucked it in around us. We fell asleep holding each other, under a sky full of stars.