But I can’t hear him. His legs rest against every inch of mine as I sit nestled between his thighs.
Snug. Protected.
Are you uncomfortable?
I don’t know, but I’m aware that maybe I should be. This is weird. We shouldn’t be sitting like this.
We continue up the hill, the rock and dirt kicking up under the horse as I look around, seeing the house behind us down below. The terrain evens out, and Jake pushes the horse a little faster as I relax into his hold around me, both of us bouncing up and down in the saddle.
He blows a couple times, like something in his face, and then his fingers brush my neck. I tense, the touch making me shiver.
“Do me a favor, okay?” he says as he swipes my hair over my right shoulder. “Keep your hair tied back as much as possible. We have lots of machines that can snag it.”
I take over, smoothing my hair over my shoulder and out of his face.
We stop at the top of the hill. “Water tower, barn, shop…” he calls out, pointing as we turn and look over the cliff to his property below. “There’s a greenhouse over that hill, too.”
I follow his gaze down to where the house sits throug
h the trees in the distance below us, getting a decent view of the entire ranch. The house is happily situated in the center, the back of it facing us, with the attached garage to the left—or shop, I assume he’s referring to—and then a barn on the other side of that. To the right is a water tower. The rocky hill we sit atop of sits behind the house, and I’d imagine there’s a propane tank and a generator somewhere on the property.
The leaves dance with the morning breeze, and something flaps its wings to my right as a steady, soft noise pounds in the distance. Water, maybe?
Jake pulls away from the edge, and we keep going, still farther away from the house and deeper into the forest, and I look down, seeing his fingers wrapped around each strap of the reins, nearly resting on my thighs. His arms lock me in, and despite the chill of the morning, I’m not cold.
“You can’t take the truck up in here, but the horses and ATVs do well,” he tells me. “Have Noah show you the ropes with the four-wheelers before you use one, okay?”
I nod. I did a camp for extreme sports one summer, but he’ll probably want his son to show me the ropes anyway.
We keep going, and even though I’m a little hungry after not having eaten for so long and craving another coffee, because my eyelids are weighing heavy with the relaxing rocking of the ride, I stay quiet. I’m not thinking about anything out here, and it’s nice.
I close my eyes.
But after a few moments, the rush of water grows louder, and the horse stops. I open my eyes, seeing we’re at the edge of a cliff. I look into the distance.
The peak.
My heart thumps, and I stop breathing for a moment as I take in the now unobstructed view.
My God.
A narrow valley runs below us between two mountains, a long waterfall rushing over one of them and into the river. Between the two mountains, in the distance, stands the peak. Dark gray rock, skirted with greenery. It’s beautiful.
“Like it?” Jake asks.
I nod.
“Do you like it?” he asks again in a stern voice, and I know he wants me to use my words.
I just keep staring ahead, only able to whisper. “l love it.”
“You can come back as much as you want, now that you know the way.” I feel him move behind me and the saddle shifts a little. “But you need to carry protection with you when you leave the house, you understand?”
I nod again, barely listening as I gape at the view.
But he takes my chin and turns my head to face him.
“This is very important,” he insists. “Do you understand? This isn’t L.A. It’s not even Denver. We have black bears, mountain lions, coyotes, the occasional rattlesnake… You need to have your eyes open. You’re on their turf now.”