A Shadow on the Ground
Page 26
“Can you help me up?” she said.
“I thought you weren’t speaking to me.”
She held out her hand. “Can I not speak to you up there?”
He turned back to her and, in one fluid motion, clasped her forearm and swung her onto the truck bed.
“Are you really leaving?” she asked.
He stopped, still holding on to her arm, and looked in her eyes. The last rays of sunlight cut across his angular face. “Why, yes, I am. I thought I might move to Nashville. Jeremy can find a guitar teacher there, and I can help revitalize and reinforce small businesses in these exciting but uncertain times.”
“I thought you liked small towns.”
“I thought you hated them.”
A crowd was beginning to gather.
He looped his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. “I’ve heard Nashville is the biggest small town in America. That sounds like a compromise to me.”
“What about children? You know I probably can’t get pregnant.”
“That won’t stop us from trying. In the meantime, we’ll adopt.”
“What about Jeremy’s therapy?”
“Bert’s paying for it. And I’m letting him. Besides, with you in our lives, I think Jeremy is gonna be just fine.”
“Am I in your life? I don’t want to be just a shadow on the ground.”
“Baby, you are my life.”
“Let’s wait till the harvest is over,” she said. “This is only the first wave of apples. And look at these kind folks surrounding the truck, staring at us like we’re the midnight show. We wouldn’t want to deprive them of hayrides and hot cider.”
“We could wait until the first snow. I’d love to spend winter in the mountains with you. Drinking apple brandy by the fire.”
“Seeing where this might go. Learning to like you calling me baby.”
Gage leaned over and nuzzled her neck. “Sleigh rides through the meadow. Ice skating on Lacey’s Pond.”
“Christmas,” Morgan murmured.
“New Year’s Eve.”
He held her face in his hands and covered her mouth with his. Thundering applause, loud hoots and whistles erupted around them.
“Forever,” Gage whispered.
“Forever is a long damn time,” she said, laughing.
“That’s okay.” He kissed her again. “It still won’t be long enough for me.”
A word about the author...
Rebecca lives with her husband in the beautiful, misty mountains of East Tennessee, where the people are charming, soulful, and just a little bit crazy. She's been everything from a tax collector to a stay-at-home mom to a house painter to a professional actress and director.
When she's not churning out sensual romantic mysteries with snappy dialogue and happy endings, she likes to travel, go to the Outer Banks for her ocean fix, watch old movies, hang out at the local pub, and make her day complete by correctly answering the Final Jeopardy! question.
Visit her at www.rebeccaleesmith.com.
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