Page 7 of If the Summer Lasted Forever

CHAPTER SIX

I peek out the window, watching for Landon, past nervous. But it’s fine. This is just a casual outing between casual acquaintances. Plus, it’s not a date if an eight-year-old boy comes along.

Unlike yesterday, I’m dressed for the weather, wearing layers I can shed as the day warms. I did, however, curl my hair before I pulled it up into a ponytail.

And I put on some subtle makeup. If I pulled it off, my skin should look dewy, my eyelashes miles long, and my lips kissably soft.

(It takes longer to put on makeup that makes you look like you’re not wearing makeup than getting ready for an evening date—not that I’ve gone on many dates, in the evening or any other time.)

The doorbell rings, and I jump a foot into the air like a high-strung cat. Scolding myself, I open the door, hoping it’s not obvious I was just pacing the living room.

“Morning,” Landon says, looking more inviting than any boy should.

With his defined shoulders and muscular build, it’s obvious he works hard to stay fit, even on the road.

His arms are casually crossed over his almost-fitted T-shirt, and his biceps fill out the short sleeves in a way that would have some girls drooling.

Not me, of course. Some girls. Other girls.

“Bring your camera?” I ask.

He reaches into his back pocket, producing the small video recording device he was using the other day. “All charged up and ready to go.”

“Your dad says there’s a ghost town nearby.” Caleb shoves his way in front of Landon. He looks like a miniature explorer in his oversized khaki hat with its wide brim. “Can we see it too?”

“Sure,” I say, though my heart twinges when Caleb assumes Mark is my dad and not my uncle.

I walk them around the back of the house to the spot where I park my Jeep. It’s a white Wrangler, cute as can be even though it’s almost ten years old. When I got my license, Mom and Uncle Mark bought it for me from the lady who owns the rock and mineral shop on Main.

I glance at Caleb, wondering if he’s visited the little shop yet. She has all kinds of minerals, even a few fossils. I could buy him a geode, and Landon could split it. And maybe when it’s warmer, we could?—

I stop myself, realizing I’m planning more outings. This is dangerous. The last thing I need to do is get attached—to either of them.

“Nice Jeep,” Landon says, earning copious amounts of brownie points.

I flash him a smile. “Thanks.”

Five minutes later, we’re navigating the winding road, making our way up the mountain.

The new foliage on the trees and bushes is rich green thanks to all the rain we’ve had.

Even the pines look more vibrant. It’s a pretty day.

There are only a few wispy clouds in the sky, and it’s already warmer than yesterday.

A creek runs next to us, and Caleb presses his nose to the window. “Can we pan for gold?”

“Some people do, but there are rules and regulations. Your mom and dad would have to contact the Forest Service first and figure all that out.”

“Huh,” Caleb answers, less interested.

It takes another twenty minutes to reach the turnoff for the historic site—which translates to twenty minutes of mindlessly answering Caleb’s questions as I try not to focus on Landon sitting in the seat next to me.

His long legs are stretched out in faded jeans that fit just right, and he wears sunglasses and a well-worn baseball cap.

He’s the embodiment of a Colorado summer.

Finally, I take a right off the scenic highway, turning onto a well-traveled dirt road. It’s narrow with bumpy washboards that make Caleb say, “ahhhhh,” just so he can hear his voice vibrate.

“It’s rough,” Landon comments, turning my way as the Jeep’s back-end shimmies on a turn. Once we’re out of the corner, I glance at him, wondering how he’s handling the drive. To his credit, he doesn’t look too concerned.

“Soon a road grader will come through,” I tell him, “clean it up for the summer tourists in their low-clearance cars and two-wheel-drive vehicles. Paige’s brothers hate the road grader.”

“Paige is your friend, right? The one I met the other day?”

“Yeah.” I flash him a smile. “She’s the best. I’m lucky to have her.”

“I would say she’s probably pretty lucky to have you too.”

He has no idea. Paige lost her mom just a year before I lost my dad. We understood each other in a way no one else could, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.

We reach the historic site a minute later, and I pull to the side to park. Caleb scurries out of the Jeep as soon as I turn off the engine, and he books it to the shanty that stands twenty yards from the road.

“Don’t touch anything!” Landon hollers out his window, and then he turns back to me with a small smile on his face. He relaxes in his seat, and after a moment, he says, “Hi.”

The way he’s looking at me makes nervous butterflies stir in my stomach. “Aren’t we past that part of the outing?”

“We’ve had an eight-year-old chaperone.”

Which makes me wonder how he would have greeted me if Caleb hadn’t been with us.

“Well, then…hi,” I end up saying, feeling off…but in a rather pleasant way.

“Thanks for driving us up here.”

“Sure.” There’s a sudden lack of air in the Jeep, so I open my door and step out just so I can catch my breath.

I jam my hands in my pockets as we trail after Caleb. He bounces from sign to sign, reading each one out loud, utterly fascinated.

A Steller’s jay, a cousin to our town’s namesake, cackles from a nearby stand of pine trees. The greedy thing is probably hoping we’ll leave food.

“This must have been a crazy place to grow up,” Landon says as Caleb gazes at the small mine Gideon Bonavit dug himself. It’s blocked off, but the Forest Service has constructed thick plastic at the entrance so you can see inside if the sun is just right.

“It was pretty cool.” My words are contradicted by my listless shrug. Landon gives me a knowing look, and I laugh. “I mean, I like it here—it’s home, after all—but someday I’d like to look out my window and see something other than pine trees.”

“Have you thought about college? Technically you could leave in a year, go anywhere you want.”

“I don’t know.” I always feel uncomfortable when the subject comes up. “Mom needs me to help run the campground. I can’t just leave.”

Landon studies me, neither judging nor questioning. It’s more like he’s trying to figure out who I am. I’m not used to people looking that closely, and the attention makes me fidget.

“I’ll probably do online classes or something,” I say when I can take it no longer. “What about you? Do you start college in the fall?”

Landon furrows his brow. “I think I’m going to take a year off, travel a little more. But after that, yeah.”

“Sounds nice,” I say, my tone a touch wistful. The idea of traveling, visiting all the places other people in the campground seem to go to on a regular basis, would be awesome.

We stop by the shanty and Landon peers in the windows, looking at the scene that’s been reconstructed inside. There’s a tiny cot, a pickax, and a small table with a tin cup and kettle on it—not a lot considering Gideon lived here two years.

“If you could go anywhere,” Landon asks me after he reads the sign. “Where would you go?”

“The beach,” I say without even thinking about it. “I want to see the ocean more than anything.”

Startled, he looks at me, his eyebrows raised. “You’ve never been to the ocean?”

I shake my head.

“Where have you traveled?”

“Nowhere, really,” I say with a laugh. “I have an aunt who lives in New Mexico. We visited her once when I was little, just after my parents bought the campground from my grandparents. I don’t remember much about the trip, but apparently, I was terrified of the bats at Carlsbad Caverns.”

In fact, the thought of caves still makes me edgy.

Landon looks up from the sign and meets my eyes. “I want to hide you in the RV and take you everywhere.”

He says the words lightly, but my stomach warms.

“Maybe to a beach?” I ask, playing along.

“Lots of beaches.” His voice is lower, and like magnets drawn to each other, we shift closer. His eyes are the most mesmerizing shade. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a pale green color quite like them.

“Landon!” Caleb shouts. “Look at this!”

Landon clenches his eyes shut, chuckling under his breath. “Be right there,” he calls.

Both disappointed and relieved, I step away, putting space between us.

We spend another thirty minutes looking around, taking the short hike to a scenic point that looks out over dozens of natural lakes hidden in the trees. Caleb reads all the signs to us even though he’s already been to each one twice.

I stay out of the way when Landon takes out his video recorder. He narrates like he’s going to send the video to friends or family back home. He explains where he is, what we’re doing, who he’s with.

“Wave, Lacey,” he commands, pointing the lens at me.

I give in, pursing my lips to hold in a nervous giggle, and do as he requests.

After a while, we take Caleb to the ghost town that’s just a little farther up the main road and let him explore the aged, wooden houses.

“I haven’t been here in years,” I say to Landon as we walk through a two-story that’s in better shape than most.

“They’re tiny.” Landon motions to the room around us. “Can you imagine living somewhere this small?”

He’s right. The structures were built in the eighteen-hundreds, and they look more like large playhouses than real homes.

There are a few plaques on the walls that talk about who owned the houses, how long they lived there, and what they did for a living.

Most of the men worked at the crumbling lumber mill down the road, but a few were miners, and others raised livestock.

“Don’t go upstairs,” Landon calls to Caleb, who’s already climbed the first two steps. “It doesn’t look stable.”

The boy looks back at his brother, frowning like he’s trying to decide if taking a peek would be worth getting in trouble. After a moment, he gives in and comes down to join us.

We wander for a while longer. Growing worried about the way my nerves hum when Landon comes close, I keep a reasonable distance, never letting myself stand near enough to accidentally bump his arm or let our fingers brush.

Over and over, I remind myself this is just a friendly outing, nothing more. The Tillmans are going to leave at the end of the summer. Landon will move on, and I doubt he’ll even remember me by this time next year.

This is just a nice way to pass a day—no reason to overthink it or put more stock into it than it deserves.

I’m quiet on the way back, but if Landon notices, he doesn’t mention it. Caleb’s gregarious enough to carry on a conversation for all of us, and I’m relieved he’s here to fill the silence.

We pass Uncle Mark and Mr. Tillman as we pull into the drive. They’re standing by the front gate, talking. They wave as I drive around the house.

Caleb hops out of the Jeep as soon as I stop, eager to tell his dad about the shanty and the ghost town, leaving Landon and me alone—and acutely aware of it.

“That was fun,” Landon says.

I play with my keys, purposely avoiding his eyes. “It was. I think Caleb had a good day.”

Landon murmurs an agreement. It’s hard to get a read on him. He’s usually charming, but now that it’s just the two of us, he seems hesitant.

“I think we’re supposed to go on that hike soon,” he says after a long pause. “Mom said she and your mom settled on a day.”

“Oh, that’s right.” I nod.

Silence.

We sit here for another moment, but when it’s obvious we’ve both lost our words, I force an easy smile and step out the door. Landon does the same, though he looks reluctant to join his brother. After a moment, he taps the Jeep’s roof twice. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.” I’m relieved he’s finally leaving…and disappointed he’s finally leaving.

He pauses on his way toward the front of the house and turns back. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

I think about it for a moment, wondering if we planned something I didn’t realize. “Why?”

Landon walks backward and flashes me a crooked grin. “Why not?”