Page 30

Beth

“ D o you mean it?” Ruugar’s voice rasped in my ear, his breath hot on my skin. My pulse thudded faster. He was so solid behind me, too hot, too big, but I didn’t want to move away.

“Yes.” The word escaped before I could hold it back.

He tensed, his arm tightening on my waist. For a long moment, he said nothing, only breathed. “Alright, then.”

A shiver ran across my skin.

“Alright, then,” I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Neither of us spoke after that, and I felt every moment of silence keenly, stretched taut with the promise of something I didn’t understand but desperately wanted.

The hours passed in a blur, the rhythmic motion of Ebar's gait doing little to settle the longing simmering in my veins. Ruugar’s warmth at my back and the press of his arm around me kept my insides fluttering.

His big thighs sheltered mine, and the memory of his voice in my ear left me restless and distracted.

When we finally crested a gentle rise and saw our next campsite, I gaped at the beauty. Everything about Lonesome Creek was amazing. It was going to hurt when I had to say goodbye. Maybe I wouldn’t have to. I felt like everything was changing, rushing ahead of me so fast, I could barely keep up.

The terrain had shifted from dense forest to craggy foothills, the ground uneven with scattered boulders and patches of wildflower-strewn grass.

The river cut through the land on the right, carving its way between rugged stone, its water clear, reflecting silver light.

Upstream, a series of waterfalls cascaded down, tumbling into pools before continuing onward in a lazy current.

The sound of trickling water filled the air, mixing with birdsong and carrying the scent of earth and fresh pine.

Two sturdy wooden cabins for the couples nestled among the trees, their walls built of thick logs. A large cooking gazebo had been placed in the shade of a cluster of tall trees, and just beyond it, I spied the familiar shed stocked with supplies.

We dismounted, Ruugar leaping off Ebar and lifting me, then gently setting me on the ground. He looked me over, and I gave him a shy smile. When he returned it, my heart flipped over.

Mary slid off her mount with Ruugar’s help, groaning and rubbing her back, though she was smiling at Joel. The others got off their sorhoxes as well and grabbed their bags from Barg as Ruugar released the bindings.

The ride had changed things between us. What would happen next?

While everyone left to bring their bags to their cabins, Ruugar stayed behind to unsaddle and groom the sorhoxes, his big hands moving with an ease that made me ache deep inside.

After helping with that, I went to the shed and tugged out the tent, taking pride in the fact that I knew how to set it up.

The process went smoothly this time, unrolling the canvas, staking it to the ground, threading the poles through their loops. I stretched the sleeping bag open inside, brushing my fingers over the fabric, wondering what sharing this space might bring us now.

I finally made myself crawl back outside. As I started forward, my shoes snagged on something, and I froze.

Someone had coiled wire from one embedded post to another, though it was barely visible in the tall grass. Not dangerous, but enough to snag a foot or jolt an intruder.

My brows knit together. A trap. Around our tent. Around me .

Ruugar came over to stand with me, gesturing to the wire. “I placed that to protect you.”

My belly flipped. He'd done this for me. I wasn't sure if I wanted to laugh or cry.

Mary stood near the firepit across the way with Carol. She sucked in a delighted breath. “Protective traps are a classic gesture.” Her voice might’ve come out hushed but her meaning came out quite well. They were matchmaking. It was incredibly sweet, but my face still got hot.

Did they suspect what we might do tonight?

I turned back to Ruugar, who watched me carefully, his expression unreadable, as if he was bracing himself for a negative reaction.

I met his gaze. “Thank you.” Hope and sincerity and the first touch of love lived in every syllable.

His nod was his only response, but something shifted in his posture, a quiet satisfaction settling over him.

I stepped carefully over the wire with warmth unfurling in my chest.

He was doing everything on purpose. He wasn’t pushing me away. He was presenting me with gifts .

And that made my heart sing like it never had before.

Cooking for lunch and dinner was different this time. We still worked together seamlessly, but he watched me. I watched him too. And my heart kept singing.

Night air carried the scent of woodsmoke and river mist as I dried the last of the dishes and put them away after dinner.

Ruugar worked nearby, stacking the cookware.

Every little motion, from the way his broad shoulders moved to the quiet motions of his hands, kept tugging my attention away from my task.

Heat ghosted across my back as he stepped behind me. My breath wrangled its way up my throat. Him moving past me, reaching for something, should feel like nothing. It was anything but. Not after the way he’d held me today .

My hand trembled as I bent over the wooden dining table, scrubbing away the last traces of supper. Ruugar helped with his own cloth. His hand brushed against mine, his fingers rough and warm against my skin. Neither of us pulled away.

The air between us charged. I forced myself to look up from our hands, meeting his gaze across the table. His dark eyes burned into mine, their intensity stealing the breath from my lungs.

A smile tugged at my lips, small but true. Was I dreaming? If so, I didn’t want to wake up.

Ruugar’s lips quirked up in return, the movement settling deep inside me. Heat slid low in my belly.

A log cracked in the fire pit, sending a shower of sparks toward the sky. The sound jolted me back to reality, reminding me we weren’t alone. I pulled my hand away from his, returning to the sink to leave the cloth.

The intensity of his gaze remained on my back, and I caught him nodding once when I looked over my shoulder.

Our guests sat in chairs near the campfire, talking about tomorrow’s activities, their voices low and easy as the night deepened. The flames cast flickering shadows across their faces, the glow reflecting on the dark river beyond the edge of the camping area.

As we left the cooking gazebo, Ruugar nudged his chin toward the fire. “Come sit.” He didn’t wait, just strode toward the pit. Instead of choosing a spot apart like he usually did, he dragged two chairs together before dropping into one .

Flames streaked up my spine.

Struggling to swallow, to think, I made my way over and eased into the seat beside him. A moment later, his gentle fingers enclosed mine, his large palm engulfing my hand.

I could’ve pulled away. He wouldn’t have stopped me from doing so. But I didn’t.

Carol nudged Pete with a smirk, and Mary and Joel shared a knowing glance, but no one said anything.

Instead, the conversation turned back to the day’s ride, to the beauty of the land and the plans for this part of our adventure.

It was hard to believe that in a few short days, we'd have to turn back, taking a shorter route toward town with only one night at a dry camp before the trail ride would be over.

“We should swim tomorrow,” Mary announced, stretching her hands toward the fire. “The pools under the falls look perfect for it.”

“I’m in.” Joel grinned her way. “Outside of this amazing trip, I haven’t gone swimming in forever.”

Carol hummed, glancing toward the river. “The falls must be beautiful under the moonlight.”

“I’d bet on that,” Joel said, glancing toward Ruugar and me. “Probably looks really romantic about now.”

Carol sighed dramatically and leaned into Pete. “Taking a stroll with someone special in a place like this would be unforgettable.”

Pete chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “Guess we’d better experience the magic, huh? Maybe tomorrow night, however. ”

“Yes, tomorrow night.” Her mouth stretched in a yawn. “I'm much too tired after riding today to walk to the falls. I think I'd rather go to bed. Like, now.”

“Agreed.”

She and Pete rose and strolled toward their cabin, holding hands.

Mary and Joel stood, murmuring goodnight before disappearing into their own cabin. Before their door shut, my cheeks were on fire.

Only the quiet crackle of the fire remained, plus the warmth of Ruugar’s eyes on me.

Neither of us spoke.

Then he stood, towering over me, offering his hand. His deep voice came out quiet but with a touch of hope. “Would you like to walk? Walk with, err, me, I mean. I hear the falls might be…pretty tonight. Under the moonlight.”

I could almost feel his ears burning. There wasn't anything he could say that would upset me outside of rejection. And I sensed this was anything but that.

My heart pounded as I slipped my fingers into his. He wrapped his hand around mine and tugged me gently to my feet.

I wasn’t dreaming this.

A dangerous, wonderful thought bloomed in my chest. Maybe I never would be dreaming about things I couldn’t have again.

The cool night air wrapped around us as we stepped away from the fire, but the warmth of Ruugar’s hand in mine held back my shivers. The quiet hum of the others settling in for the night faded behind us, leaving only the steady rustle of leaves and the distant rush of water.

We walked without speaking, side by side, the space between us alive with something unspoken. The falls loomed ahead, gleaming silver in the moonlight, their roar growing louder with each step.

I stole glances at him, taking in his strong profile. His brow was furrowed, his jaw tight, and I suspected he was thinking things he wasn’t ready to share. But his hold on my hand never wavered. I sensed he was afraid of letting go.

We reached the river and stood at the top of the bank with grass dotted with tiny wildflowers below our feet. A tug on his hand was all it took. He looked down, his brow raised, but when I settled on the ground, he followed, his large frame easing beside me.

Stretching his legs out in front of him, he leaned back on his palms while I hugged my knees to my chest.

I glanced at him again. This time, he was watching me.

My breath caught.

He swallowed, his mouth wrangling before he released a sharp nod. He plucked a single blade of grass and held it out to me.

“For you,” he said gruffly.

The gift was ridiculous. And perfect. Ruugar didn’t deal in grand gestures. He dealt in quiet choices. Like holding my hand. Sitting this close. Giving me something simple yet more valuable than anything I’d ever been offered before .

My giddy laugh bubbled up, but I bit it back, taking the blade of grass with careful hands. He'd just handed me what to him could be a priceless treasure. “Thank you.”

He grabbed another blade and placed it in my palm. Then another.

My throat closed off. I couldn’t stop the tears from springing up in my eyes. Because this was Ruugar. This was him trying. And it was finally happening.

A deep breath steadied me. The sound of the falls filled the space between us, but the tension had shifted, crackling with unsaid words.

I didn’t want unsaid words any longer.

“Things are different between us,” I said.

The moment stretched too long, my words laying exposed between us. What if I’d misread everything?

Ruugar went still. A muscle in his jaw jumped, and for a long moment, I wasn’t sure he’d answer. His chest rose with a slow breath. “Yes.”

That one word held everything.

My body moved before fear could stop me. Shifting closer, I reached for him.

His hand rose, his fingers brushing my cheek.

My skin ignited under his touch.

His eyes searched mine, filled with something raw and uncertain. That look made my lungs ache. His thumb moved in the lightest stroke over my cheekbone, and I shivered.

Slowly, cautiously, he leaned in.

My breath halted, my pulse slamming loud in my ears. The first touch of his lips was feather-light, careful, and questioning.

I had a choice here. I could pull back and pretend this never happened, which would be infinitely safer. But a world without this or him?

I rose onto my knees and pressed forward.

He rumbled low in his throat. His hand moved to the nape of my neck, tilting my chin as he kissed me again, firmer this time. The meadow and forest and mountains around us blurred. I lost my blades of grass, but I’d search for them later.

There was nothing but the heat of his mouth, the warmth of his touch, the overwhelming rightness of being here with him. I cupped his shoulders, holding tight.

When we finally drew back, he rested his forehead against mine, his dark eyes searching.

Did he see how much I longed for him?

Did he feel it the way I did, a slow, aching pull that promised no way back?