Chapter19
2995 Words
Wade didn't tell her where they were going.
For the first ten minutes, Emma assumed he was simply trying to put enough distance between them and Jackson to prevent another accidental encounter.
Then they left the paved road.
Emma grabbed the handle above the passenger-side window as Wade's truck bounced over a narrow gravel path.
She looked over at him.
“Are you kidnapping me?”
Wade laughed.
“If I was, I probably wouldn't admit it.”
“That isn't reassuring.”
“You said you wanted somewhere Jackson wouldn't find us.”
“I was thinking another restaurant.”
“Too easy.”
The road narrowed until trees crowded both sides of the truck, their branches forming a canopy overhead. Sunlight slipped between the leaves in scattered patches across the windshield.
Emma looked behind them.
The main road had disappeared several minutes ago.
“Does anyone actually know this road exists?”
“Couple people.”
“That doesn't make me feel better.”
Wade grinned.
“You trust me?”
Emma hesitated dramatically.
“I trusted you before we turned onto what looks like the opening scene of a true-crime documentary.”
He laughed.
“Give me five minutes.”
“I better not end up buried out here.”
“If I was planning on murdering you, I probably wouldn't have brought fishing poles.”
Emma looked toward the back seat.
There were, in fact, two fishing poles lying across it.
She turned toward him.
“You had fishing poles in your truck this entire time?”
“I usually do.”
“Of course you do.”
“What does that mean?”
“You're very… Hickory Ridge.”
Wade glanced at her.
“And you're very Little Rock.”
“I'm not sure if that was an insult.”
“Wasn't.”
The gravel road finally opened into a small clearing.
Wade parked beneath a cluster of tall trees and turned off the engine.
“Come on.”
Emma looked around.
There was nothing.
No park.
No picnic tables.
No signs.
Not even another vehicle.
“Wade.”
He was already outside.
Emma lowered her window.
“Where exactly are we?”
He reached into the bed of his truck and pulled out a small cooler.
“My favorite place.”
“That still doesn't answer the question.”
He grabbed the fishing poles.
“Come see.”
Emma climbed out.
The air smelled different out there.
Cleaner.
Damp earth, trees and something faintly sweet she couldn't identify.
Wade started toward a narrow trail through the woods.
Emma followed.
“You realize you have absolutely failed at making this less suspicious.”
“Almost there.”
After another minute, Wade stepped through the trees.
Emma followed him.
And stopped.
“Oh.”
A creek wound quietly through the woods, wider than she expected and clear enough that she could see stones beneath the surface. Large trees leaned over the banks, their branches reflecting against the water.
There was a small grassy clearing beside it and an old fallen log worn smooth enough to sit on.
It wasn't impressive in the way tourist destinations were impressive.
There were no waterfalls.
No overlooks.
No crowds.
It was simply quiet.
Completely, wonderfully quiet.
Emma looked around.
“How did I not know this was here?”
“Most people don't.”
She looked at him.
“You weren't kidding about the secret part.”
“Nope.”
“How did you find it?”
“My granddad brought me out here when I was probably Christian's age.”
Wade set the cooler down.
“He owned some land on the other side years ago. Most of it was sold off, but there's still an easement back through here. Hardly anybody uses it anymore.”
Emma walked closer to the water.
“So Jackson definitely doesn't know about it?”
Wade grinned.
“I'd bet my truck on it.”
“Good.”
That earned a laugh.
For the first time all day, Emma felt her shoulders relax.
No Jackson.
No Christian plotting his parents' reconciliation.
No Luke needing headphones or reassurance.
No laundry.
No unpacked boxes.
No decisions.
Just water moving slowly over rocks.
And Wade.
Wade opened the cooler.
“I came prepared.”
Emma looked inside.
Sandwiches.
Bottled water.
A couple of Cokes.
And a container of strawberries.
She looked up.
“You planned this?”
“I had options.”
Emma smiled.
“So this was one of the options?”
“Fishing was always the best one.”
“You're very confident for someone who doesn't know whether I fish.”
Wade looked at her.
“Do you?”
Emma walked toward the poles.
“Actually…”
She picked one up.
“My daddy taught me.”
Wade's eyebrows rose.
“Well, I'll be.”
She smiled smugly.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“No. Say it.”
“I figured you were about to tell me you hadn't touched a fishing pole in your life.”
Emma took the second pole from him.
“That's because you've made assumptions about the city girl.”
“Have I?”
“Yes.”
He handed her a small tackle box.
“Then prove me wrong.”
Emma looked toward the creek.
“Oh, I plan to.”
Ten minutes later, Emma's hook was stuck in a tree.
Wade stood behind her laughing.
“This isn't funny.”
“It absolutely is.”
“I haven't fished in fifteen years.”
“Could've mentioned that before you started bragging.”
“I still know how.”
“Your hook is six feet above your head.”
Emma looked up.
The line dangled from a branch.
“That tree moved.”
Wade laughed harder.
She turned toward him.
“Do you want to help me or not?”
“I don't know. I'm enjoying this.”
Emma shoved his shoulder.
Wade caught her wrist before she could pull away.
For half a second, neither of them moved.
His hand was warm around hers.
The laughter disappeared.
Emma looked up at him.
Wade's eyes dropped briefly toward her mouth.
Her stomach fluttered.
Then he released her.
“I'll get your hook.”
Emma looked toward the creek quickly.
“Thank you.”
Her voice sounded far more breathless than she would've liked.
Wade reached for the branch.
Emma watched him from the corner of her eye.
This was dangerous.
Not dangerous in the way Jackson seemed to think.
Wade wasn't trying to steal anything from him.
That wasn't what frightened her.
What frightened Emma was how easy this felt.
She had forgotten relationships could feel easy.
Somewhere along the way, marriage had become schedules and bills and appointments and baseball practices and therapy and arguments whispered after the children went to bed.
It had become keeping score.
Who had done dishes.
Who had forgotten an appointment.
Who had worked later.
Who was more tired.
Who had sacrificed more.
Emma couldn't remember the last time she and Jackson had done something simply because it was fun.
“Got it.”
Wade lowered the branch and freed her hook.
He handed the pole back.
“You want another shot?”
Emma took it.
“I was doing fine until the tree attacked me.”
“Obviously.”
She cast again.
This time the line landed perfectly in the water.
Emma looked at him triumphantly.
“There.”
Wade nodded.
“Not bad.”
“Not bad?”
“For a city girl.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You're going in that creek before we leave.”
“Promises, promises.”
Emma laughed.
They settled onto the bank.
For several minutes, neither of them spoke.
And strangely, Emma didn't feel like she needed to fill the silence.
Wade stretched his legs out in front of him, fishing pole resting loosely in his hands.
Emma watched the water.
“I forgot how much I liked this.”
“Fishing?”
“Quiet.”
Wade looked toward her.
Emma smiled faintly.
“My house hasn't been quiet in ten years.”
“Kids will do that.”
“Especially mine.”
She paused.
“I love them more than anything. But sometimes…”
“You want twenty minutes where nobody says Mom?”
Emma laughed.
“Yes.”
“That's allowed.”
“I know.”
But she wasn't sure she had always believed that.
Emma reeled her line in slightly.
“I think mothers are supposed to pretend we don't need breaks.”
“Says who?”
“I don't know.”
“Probably somebody who wasn't a mother.”
Emma smiled.
“Probably.”
Wade watched his line.
“You've done a good job with them.”
Emma looked over.
“You barely know them.”
“I know enough.”
He shrugged.
“Christian walks around this town like he owns it.”
“He thinks he does.”
“And Luke trusts you.”
Her smile faded slightly.
Wade continued.
“I've watched him when things get loud. First thing he does is look for you.”
Emma stared at the water.
“He's had a hard year.”
“So have you.”
She glanced at Wade.
He wasn't looking at her.
There was no pity in his voice.
No judgment.
Just an observation.
Emma swallowed.
“I don't think anybody's ever said that.”
Wade finally looked over.
“Why not?”
“Because Luke had the hard year. Christian had the hard year. Jackson had the hard year.”
“And Emma?”
She laughed softly.
“Emma handled everybody else's hard year.”
Wade was quiet.
That hit closer than she expected.
Emma looked away.
“I don't mean that like I'm some kind of martyr.”
“I didn't think you did.”
“I made mistakes too.”
“I'm sure you did.”
She looked at him.
“That was supposed to be where you tell me I didn't.”
Wade smiled.
“I don't know you well enough to lie to you yet.”
Emma laughed.
“Wow.”
“You want me to?”
“No.”
And she didn't.
That was another thing she liked about him.
Wade didn't seem interested in convincing her she was perfect.
He just seemed interested in knowing her.
A tug pulled against her pole.
Emma sat upright.
“Wait.”
Wade looked over.
“You got one.”
The line pulled again.
Emma jumped to her feet.
“I got one!”
“Reel it.”
“I know how!”
“Your tree says otherwise.”
“Shut up.”
Emma reeled quickly as Wade stood beside her.
The fish broke the surface.
Emma squealed.
Actually squealed.
Wade laughed.
“Easy. Don't yank it.”
“I'm not!”
“You are.”
“Wade!”
He reached around her, one hand steadying the pole while the other helped guide the reel.
Emma suddenly became very aware of how close he was.
His chest barely touched her back.
His face was beside hers.
“Slow,” he said quietly.
Emma swallowed.
“I'm trying.”
Together they brought the fish onto the bank.
It wasn't large.
Honestly, Christian probably would've laughed at it.
Emma didn't care.
She turned around.
“I caught one.”
Wade smiled.
“You did.”
“I told you I could fish.”
“You caught something approximately the size of my hand.”
“That still counts.”
“Barely.”
Emma shoved him.
Wade caught her around the waist before she lost her footing near the bank.
Emma grabbed his shoulders.
They froze.
His arm remained around her.
Her hands rested against him.
Neither of them laughed this time.
Emma's heart started beating harder.
Wade looked down at her.
“Emma.”
She knew what was coming.
Wade watched Emma walk toward the water.
She hadn't noticed it yet, but something about her had changed since they left town.
Her shoulders had dropped.
The tightness around her mouth was gone.
She wasn't looking over her shoulder every few minutes expecting Jackson's truck to appear.
That was exactly why he'd brought her here.
He'd seen what Jackson was doing to her all afternoon.
Maybe Jackson thought it was funny. Maybe he was jealous. Maybe he really had decided he wanted his wife back and didn't know what to do with that realization.
Wade didn't know.
And truthfully, it wasn't his business.
What he did know was that every time Jackson appeared, Emma changed.
She became tense.
Defensive.
Frustrated.
Like she was preparing herself for the next argument before Jackson had even opened his mouth.
Wade didn't want to add to that.
He didn't want Emma standing between two men while they tried to prove which one of them could win.
She wasn't something to win.
He just wanted to give her a few hours where nobody needed anything from her.
No decisions.
No explanations.
No Jackson.
Just quiet.
He set the cooler beneath the shade of a tree.
Emma turned toward him.
“What?”
Wade shook his head.
“Nothing.”
“You're staring at me.”
“Wasn't staring.”
“You were absolutely staring.”
He smiled.
“You look different.”
Emma glanced down at herself.
“I haven't changed clothes.”
“Not what I meant.”
She tilted her head.
Wade nodded toward her.
“You finally look like you're not waiting for something to go wrong.”
Her smile faded slightly.
That caught her off guard.
Wade immediately wondered if he'd said too much.
But Emma looked back toward the creek.
“I didn't realize I was doing that.”
“I don't think you did.”
She folded her arms loosely across herself.
“Jackson has a way of getting under my skin.”
“I noticed.”
Emma looked back at him.
“You handled that better than I did.”
“Wasn't my fight.”
She gave him a small smile.
“Most men wouldn't see it that way.”
Wade shrugged.
“I'm not interested in fighting your husband in an ice cream parking lot.”
“Estranged husband.”
“Still seems like bad manners.”
Emma laughed.
Wade smiled, but his voice softened when he continued.
“I could tell you were getting stressed.”
Her eyes met his.
“So this was your solution?”
He motioned toward the creek.
“Figured you needed somewhere nobody was going to ask you questions for a little while.”
Emma looked around.
“And you're sure Jackson can't find this place?”
“Unless Christian put a tracking device on you.”
Her eyes widened.
“Don't give him ideas.”
Wade laughed.
Then he reached into the truck bed for the fishing poles.
“You don't have to talk about Jackson out here.”
Emma watched him.
“You don't want to know?”
“I'll listen if you want to tell me.”
He handed her a pole.
“But you don't owe me an explanation about your marriage every time we spend time together.”
Something in Emma's expression shifted.
Wade couldn't quite identify it.
Surprise, maybe.
Or relief.
Probably both.
“You know,” she said quietly, “you're making it difficult for me to figure you out.”
“That so?”
“You're supposed to be asking whether I'm going back to him.”
Wade leaned against the truck.
“Are you?”
Emma opened her mouth.
Then stopped.
Wade smiled.
“See? That's why I'm not asking.”
She laughed softly.
“I don't know.”
“I figured.”
“And that doesn't bother you?”
Wade considered his answer.
“I'm not going to pretend I love the idea.”
At least that was honest.
“But you're still married. You have two boys with him. You've built a whole life with the man. I'd be an i***t to expect you to figure all that out because I've taken you on a couple dates.”
Emma looked down at the fishing pole in her hands.
Wade continued.
“I like spending time with you, Emma.”
She looked back up.
“A lot, actually.”
Her cheeks warmed.
“But I don't want every minute we spend together turning into some competition between me and Jackson.”
Emma swallowed.
“What do you want?”
Wade looked toward the water.
“Today?”
He smiled.
“I want you to catch a fish.”
Emma laughed.
“That's it?”
“And maybe forget you're mad at the world for a couple hours.”
“I'm not mad at the world.”
“You nearly took your ex-husband's head off at the ice cream shop.”
“He deserved it.”
“Didn't say he didn't.”
Emma shook her head, smiling.
Wade started down the trail toward the creek.
“Come on, Little Rock.”
Emma followed him.
“Did you seriously just call me Little Rock?”
“Sure did.”
“You're going to regret that.”
“Probably.”
Emma walked after him, and for the first time since Jackson had arrived that morning, she wasn't thinking about what he was doing.
She wasn't wondering whether he was jealous.
She wasn't wondering why he'd suddenly decided he wanted to stay in Hickory Ridge.
She wasn't even wondering what Christian was planning next.
She was thinking about Wade.
And how strange it felt to be around someone who noticed when she was overwhelmed without making her explain why.
Someone who didn't seem determined to fix everything.
He'd simply brought her somewhere quiet.
Maybe that was what she needed more than anything.
Not another person asking her to choose.
Just somewhere she could finally breathe.
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