Chapter 20 #2
They reached the edge of the incline. The ground sloped steeply toward a tangle of trees below. Jackson slowed, testing the ground with his boot before turning back to her. “Stay behind me. The ground’s slick. Watch your footing.”
She nodded, one hand gripping his shoulder as she stepped down. He caught her other hand without thinking, steadying her when her boot slipped on a patch of pine needles. The jolt of her touch sent a shock through him that had nothing to do with balance.
“Careful,” he said, steadying her.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
The trail—if it could even be called that anymore—was barely a suggestion, little more than packed earth worn by years of neglect.
Pine needles carpeted the ground mixed with last year’s fallen leaves.
Overhead, the sky stretched pale blue, streaked with thin clouds that glowed in the late-afternoon sun.
The creek kept them company, its steady murmur a reminder that spring was waking the land all around them.
Jackson breathed it in, chest expanding against the tightness that always seemed to sit there. Out here, the air felt different. It was crisp, alive, and cut through the weight pressing on him like nothing else. For the first time in days, he felt something relax inside himself.
Zoe’s voice broke the quiet now and then, questions drifting from behind him, observations about plants sprouting along the bank or the call of a bird overhead.
Jackson answered in even tones, doing his best to sound casual.
Just friends, he reminded himself. That’s what they were building back to. That’s all this was.
And yet… he couldn’t help noticing the way the sunlight caught on the loose strands of hair framing her face, or how her cheeks flushed pink with the climb.
He couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound of her laughter behind him, soft and unguarded.
He kept his eyes forward, on the path, forcing his body to stay steady even while the thought gnawed at him that she was more beautiful than anything they’d ever find on this trail.
“Are those wild roses?” Zoe called after a while, crouching near a cluster of tangled green shoots peeking out from a sunny patch. A few tentative buds had already formed, tight and small, with a faint blush of color at the tips.
Jackson stopped, turned around. “Looks like it.”
“Strange. These shouldn’t be blooming this time of year. We’ve got at least a couple of months, right?” Zoe moved some brush back to look at them closer.
“If you say so, Flower Girl. I’ll defer to your plant wisdom,” Jackson replied.
Her eyes lit with interest, and she brushed a fingertip near a bud without touching it. “Maybe it’s a sign?” she teased, though her voice held more wonder than humor.
“Could be,” Jackson allowed, though honestly, the only magic he saw was in Zoe’s eyes.
They pressed on, the trail narrowing until Zoe had to fall in right behind him.
He cleared branches as they went; the rhythmic swing of his arm and the steady crunch of their boots was like a cadence.
Occasionally, her hand would brush his shoulder when she steadied herself on a slope, and each time it sent a jolt through him.
By the time the trail wound back toward the creek, the sun was slipping lower, gilding the water in soft, golden light. No bloom, no secret garden. Not yet. Just them, and the quiet.
Jackson paused at the edge of the stream, lowering his pack to the ground. Zoe came up beside him, her cheeks still flushed from the hike, her smile wide and easy. She looked so happy out here in the wild, and his chest tightened at the light in her eyes.
He thought about bringing up the other night. But Jackson didn’t know what else to say that hadn’t already been said. Some things were best left in the past.
Zoe lifted her chin, her gaze snagging on something farther upriver. “Huh. Do you see that?”
He followed her gaze. The hill on the opposite bank was darkened in shadow, but something about the slope caught his attention. It was a faint outline of what looked like stacked stones, maybe the remnants of an old wall or foundation.
Zoe stepped closer to the edge of the water, careful on the slick rocks. “I’ve seen that before,” she murmured. “There was a resting spot on the map, right in the bend of the river.”
Jackson steadied her elbow instinctively. “You’re saying that’s the spot?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her voice soft but certain. “But it looks like it. That ridge lines up.” She exhaled, excitement flickering in her eyes. “This could be somewhere the Moonlight Kiss used to grow.”
He glanced across the water again. The current was fast here, the creek swollen from recent rain, the far bank too steep to cross safely before nightfall. The sky had already started to dim, clouds gathering the colors of dusk.
“There’s no bridge,” he said quietly. “And the current’s strong enough to take us both off our feet. We’d better come back when we can find a better way across.”
Zoe frowned, reluctant. “But what if—”
“Zoe,” he said gently, “it’ll still be there another day.”
She met his gaze, lips pressed tight, and nodded. “You’re right. I just… I want to know what’s waiting over there.”
He smiled faintly. “You and me both.”
They stood there for a moment longer, the creek murmuring between them and the mystery just out of reach. Then Jackson slung his pack over his shoulder and tipped his chin toward the trail. “Come on. We’ve got a long hike back, and I’d rather not test how well you can navigate by starlight.”
Zoe rolled her eyes but fell into step beside him. “For the record, I’m excellent at navigating by the stars.”
“Sure you are,” he teased, offering her his hand as they started up the path.
As they climbed, the forest darkened around them, the smell of pine and damp earth rising with the cool air. Behind them, the sound of the creek faded, but not before Zoe glanced back one last time at that distant patch of hillside, glowing faintly in the twilight.
Whatever was hidden there would have to wait just a little longer.