“What does your tattoo mean?” I ask, following him through the jagged rocks.
“They’re Texas bluebells,” Bowen responds over his shoulder, “they mean a lot of things, but the Comanche tribe has a story about sacrificing their most prized possessions after a really hard winter. They built a fire and one little girl threw in her doll with a blue feather on it. The next morning, they went outside and found the entire hill covered in blue flowers,” he explains. “They’re tempting to pick and take for yourself, but they’re also poisonous, so you have to leave them be and admire them from a distance.” Bowen glances back with a smirk, “The ultimate tease.”
That one earns an eyeroll, “Is that where you’re from—” I ask, stepping around another sandstone boulder, “Texas?”
“No, I’m from Canaan, about two hours from here. You?”
I look over my shoulder and smile at him, “I know where that is. I live in Longview.”
Bowen arches his brow before turning his focus back to the rocky terrain, “City girl,” he smirks and tosses his hair out of his eyes, “You’ve been just across the river all along.”
When we reach the top of the hill, it’s deserted except for a couple of Scarlet Tanagers screeching and fighting among the deadfall. Even at the top of the ridge, the canopy is still heavy, blocking the morning sunlight and casting a mellow shadow over the clearing.
Bowen trudges past me, following the dirt path that gradually fades into smooth sandstone. He slows as he reaches the edge, lined with small boulders spaced every five feet.
He turns and looks up at the rocks that lead further up the ridge, then motions to them, “Let’s go up.”
The rocks jut out of the hill at chaotic angles, looking more like rock falls from erosion than solid formations.
Is he fucking insane?
“But there’s no trail up there.”
Bowen continues gazing up the steep face, “So?” He brushes past me and steps up on a boulder, searching for the next foothold.
“Seriously?” I remain firmly planted on the trail.
Bowen looks over his shoulder, unconcerned, “Yeah, come on.” He turns back to the rocks but hesitates when he doesn’t hear me behind him, “Are you coming?”
I glance between him and the rocks beneath the ridge. It definitely looks possible, but it’s still not part of the trail. The rocks could be loose, the dirt could give way, there’s a reason it’s not part of the trail. There’s always a reason. And the first rule of hiking is that you don’t leave the trail. Ever.
I shake my head, “No.”
Bowen jumps off the boulder and returns to the trail, “Why?”
“It’s pretty steep,” I scrunch up my nose as I scrutinize the treacherous climb, “and how do you know the rocks are sturdy?”
He flashes me a smile, “I don’t.”
“Doesn’t seem like a good idea,” I mutter, ready to continue on to more level ground.
“A lot of things don’t seem like a good idea at first,” he takes a step toward me, “and then afterward, you kick yourself for almost missing it.”
“The first rule of hiking,” I retort, “is don’t leave the trail.”
He tips up his chin and looks down at me, “I don’t get lost. I do this all day without trails. And you think I’d bring you all the way out here just to let you fall off a cliff?”
“Like you said, I don’t know you.” I arch an eyebrow, throwing his own commentary back at him.
“OK, look,” Bowen nods up at the ridge, “follow me up. I’ll go slow the entire time, and I’ll help you. I promise.”
I shift my gaze back to the rocks, gritting my teeth in reluctance. It’s not safe, and I should just say no. But it does seem kind of…fun.
“You know you want to,” Bowen looks me up and down, “you’re thinking about it.”
I exhale, contemplating. He’s right, I am thinking about it. Then he steps in front of me and brings both his hands up to the sides of my face. I flinch as his unexpected touch sends a jolt from my neck all the way down to my legs.
“I promise,” he murmurs, his face mere inches from mine, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I shouldn’t do this. It goes against my entire being. Well, most of it, anyway. There’s a little part of me I try not to acknowledge anymore, but I know it’s there. I’ve spent the last three years trying to ignore it and now it’s creeping back up from the recesses of my brain, clawing and begging for a taste of adrenaline—a rush. And something about Bowen is coaxing it out.
That feeling is what propels me up the rocks, testing the same footholds Bowen uses as he forges a path to the ridgetop. Once at the ledge, he reaches down and pulls me up the last few feet. He’s so strong it feels like my toes just brush the edges of the rocks as he lifts me onto level ground.
Bowen lets go of my hand and turns to explore the rest of the ridge, “You trust me now?”
“So far, so good,” I smile to myself and follow him, listening to the faint flow of water somewhere beneath us.
I kneel behind a thin tree jutting out from the ridge and peer over the edge. There is indeed a waterfall flowing, and I can see it from our new vantage point, whereas it was obscured by trees before. I can’t look away; I’m so mesmerized by the colors and sounds and the feeling of being at the top of the forest where only beautiful things exist.
Focused on the steep drop off the sandstone ridge, I slowly rise from my crouching position and take a step back to turn around.
“HEY!”
I let out a shrill scream as the shout hits my eardrums and something jabs both sides of my rib cage. I crumple in on myself, screaming and thrashing as I nearly drop to the ground. I can’t breathe, all the air forced from my lungs as I’m squeezed around the shoulders by two muscular arms. Once I realize I’m not freefalling off the ridge, I whip my head from side to side, trying to look over my shoulder.
It’s Bowen, and he can barely speak through gasps of laughter. I don’t know whether to be relieved or enraged. He presses my back against his chest and backs further away from the edge of the ridge as I try to catch my breath. I furiously try to twist around, but Bowen knows if he lets go, he’ll probably catch a fist to the jaw. He might be a jerk, but he’s no idiot.
Staggering beneath his hold, I try to tear my arms from his grip but it’s no use, he’s taller and much stronger, “Are you fucking kidding me?” I scream over my shoulder, unable to see him.
