Over and over, I remind myself this is just a friendly outing, nothing more. The Tillmans are going to leave at the end of the summer. Landon will move on, and I doubt he’ll even remember me by this time next year.
This is just a nice way to pass a day—no reason to overthink it or put more stock into it than it deserves.
I’m quiet on the way back, but if Landon notices, he doesn’t mention it. Caleb’s gregarious enough to carry on a conversation for all of us, and I’m relieved he’s here to fill the silence.
We pass Uncle Mark and Mr. Tillman as we pull into the drive. They’re standing by the front gate, talking. They wave as I drive around the house.
Caleb hops out of the Jeep as soon as I stop, eager to tell his dad about the shanty and the ghost town, leaving Landon and me alone—and acutely aware of it.
“That was fun,” Landon says.
I play with my keys, purposely avoiding his eyes. “It was. I think Caleb had a good day.”
Landon murmurs an agreement. It’s hard to get a read on him. He’s usually charming, but now that it’s just the two of us, he seems hesitant.
“I think we’re supposed to go on that hike soon,” he says after a long pause. “Mom said she and your mom settled on a day.”
“Oh, that’s right.” I nod.
Silence.
We sit here for another moment, but when it’s obvious we’ve both lost our words, I force an easy smile and step out the door. Landon does the same, though he looks reluctant to join his brother. After a moment, he taps the Jeep’s roof twice. “Thanks again.”
“No problem.” I’m relieved he’s finally leaving…and disappointed he’s finally leaving.
He pauses on his way toward the front of the house and turns back. “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”
I think about it for a moment, wondering if we planned something I didn’t realize. “Why?”
Landon walks backward and flashes me a crooked grin. “Why not?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“You’re seriously not going to come?” I demand into the phone.
When Mom was planning the family hiking trip with Mrs. Tillman the other night, I figured she’d eventually come to her senses and remember she has an entire campground to run. But no.
She says Jack, a guy from the Silverton area who helps Mark out on occasion, is looking for some extra work now that he and his wife, Kinsley, are expecting their first baby. Jack said he’d be happy to keep an eye on things this afternoon while he makes repairs to the irrigation shed.
I still think it’s a bad idea. What if we have a problem with the code to the pool gate like we did last year? Or what if someone runs into the office with the back of their trailer like the year before that? One of us should be here, just in case.
Granted, it’s still a little too chilly to swim, so no one’s using the pool yet. And the chance of someone hitting the office twice is rather slim-to-none. But still.
“I’m sorry, Lacey,” Paige says, sounding sincere. “Tanner called fifteen minutes ago, and we made plans.”
“But I need you,” I whine.
Mom’s been pretty pushy about me spending time with Landon, and I now I know why. Last night, she said I’ve become a curmudgeon since Thomas, and she wants me to “move on, leave my hobbit hole of an office, and get some sun.” (Those were her exact words.)
But Landon scares me. He’s too appealing, too quick to smile—too different from Thomas, and I’m drawn to it. But that doesn’t mean I can trust him, so it’s best to keep my guard up and avoid him altogether. And what if he really is a nice single guy? He’s still going to leave at the end of the season, just like everyone leaves.
There’s something else, too. The other day, when we got back from Gideon’s shanty and the ghost town, Landon’s mind was somewhere else. He didn’t make a move when Caleb leaped out of the Jeep, and he certainly could have if he wanted to. He doesn’t need my mother’s assistance—chances are he just doesn’t like me that way.
And the thought of her interfering makes me want to hide in a hole.
“Landon and I need a buffer, someone to change the subject anytime my mother becomes too pushy,” I tell Paige.
She laughs. “He has three younger siblings. How much more of a buffer could you require?”
The girl has a solid point.
“You’ll be fine,” she assures me. “It’s just a picnic and a hike. One little afternoon.”
She’s right. I can do this.
***
“Do you have a dog?” McKenna asks as we walk down the trail. She’s decided she’s my best friend, and that suits me just fine. The less contact I have with Landon, the better. Though Mom’s been thankfully casual about it, I know she’s watching us this afternoon, waiting for a sign that we might like each other.
She’s usually so calm and down-to-earth, but I swear she’s turning into one of those pushy mothers from a Jane Austen book. I won’t be surprised if she starts warning me about the trials and tribulations of spinsterhood before I even turn eighteen.
“No,” I answer Landon’s sister. “We had a retriever mix when I was younger, but she passed away several years ago.”
Her name was Sunny, and she was my dad’s. It was a hard loss.
“How come you didn’t get another one?”
I glance at the girl—or more specifically, at the white dog lounging in her arms. “Dogs are a lot of work, especially puppies.”
“You could get a Saint Bernard like George. He doesn’t do much.”
Ahead of us, just to prove McKenna’s point, George decides to lie down in the shade. He paws at the ground, fluffing up a section of dirt, and flops down with a grunt. Dirt collects in his jowls, making a muddy, slobbery mess.
I eye him, internally cringing, but say, “Maybe.”
Maybe not.
There’s a waterfall up ahead, and Caleb’s already taken off, running as fast as his eight-year-old legs will carry him.
“Careful!” Mrs. Tillman yells, but Mr. Tillman only laughs.
Obeying his mother, sort of, Caleb slows to a jog. Candy struggles in McKenna’s arms, desperate to run with him. McKenna sets the dog down but holds her back, happy to mosey her way down the trail.
Today, Landon’s sister has on hot pink hiking sneakers and a sparkly white vest that matches Candy’s rhinestone collar. Something tells me trail jogging is not Landon’s sister’s idea of a good time. She’s happy to go her own pace.
A few minutes after everyone else, we reach the waterfall. It’s warmer today, but the mist is a touch cold. Still, Caleb looks like he’s about to wade into the crystal-clear pool of water.
Mr. Tillman playfully tugs on the hood of Caleb’s sweatshirt and says, “Don’t even think about it.”
Irritation flashes over Caleb’s face, but it’s gone as quickly as it comes. He turns to Uncle Mark. “Do you think there’s gold nearby?”
Mark shrugs. “It’s hard to say what’s hidden in the rock.”
The boy eyes the ledge behind the waterfall, looking very much like he wishes he’d brought a pickax. Heaven help us all if he ever finds a way to get his hands on one.
McKenna takes Candy to the water’s edge. Prim and proper as can be, Candy sniffs the water and delicately bats it with her paw. Looking positively scandalized, she backs away.
“You’re sure that’s a dog?” I say quietly to Landon when he steps up next to me. “Maybe she’s actually a cat under all that fluff.”
“Might be,” Landon jokes. I think he knows I’ve been keeping my distance, though I doubt he’s realized why.
“Lacey and Paige used to leap from rock to rock to get over there,” Mom tells Landon’s mother, motioning to the almost perfectly spaced stones in the middle of the water that lead to a ledge that goes behind the waterfall.
“Used to?” Landon asks.
“I fell in once,” I explain, “and realized just how cold that water is.”
“Go on, Landon,” Mr. Ti
llman coaxes. “Your camera is waterproof. Film a little.”
Landon crosses his arms and gives me a sideways sort of look. “How cold are we talking?”
“In June? With the last of the snowmelt coming down?” I don’t bother to hide my grin. “Pretty cold.”
“Go with him, Lacey,” Mom says. “Be brave.”
I shoot her a look, but her eyes are bright. She knows I’m onto her.
“Yeah, Lacey,” Landon says, mimicking but not in a rude way. “Be brave.”
I know I shouldn’t—it would be playing right into Mom’s hand, but I haven’t been back there in ages, and it is awesome to see the backside of the falls.
“I want to go too!” Caleb exclaims.
“That water’s moving a little too fast for you, buddy,” Mr. Tillman says. “Maybe in a few years.”
And like a fool, my heart gives an extra, hopeful thump. Does that mean the family plans on returning to Gray Jay? Maybe they’ll come back every summer like so many of the retirees do.
But that doesn’t mean Landon will be with them. Soon, he’ll be on his own, in college, and his family will have to travel without him.
“What about you, Hunter?” Landon asks.
His younger brother looks at the falls with disinterest and then shakes his head like the whole outing is lame. Oh, he’s at an obnoxious age.
“I’ll go,” I say, finally giving in.
I feel Mom beaming, but I ignore her and leap to the first slick rock. Once I’m steady, I look back at Landon. “Wait until I’m on the next one before you start.”
“Why?” He grins. “Are you worried I’m going to invade your rock and knock you into the water?”
I give him a grim smile, not acknowledging his teasing with a response, and jump to the next rock. My arms circle as I try to catch my balance. It was easier when I was little—when I didn’t know how cold that water was and therefore wasn’t quite so hesitant to fall in.
Landon jumps to the rock behind me with ease, and we make our way, playing an awkward game of follow the leader. It takes us several minutes, but we finally make it to the ledge. Everyone cheers for us as Landon makes the last leap. He bows his head, accepting their laughing congratulations.
It strikes me again just how good-looking he is.
I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to ignore the funny tightness in my chest, and step behind the waterfall. It’s cool back here, to the point of being cold, and the rocks are always wet. Moss grows in patches, and the smell of mineral-rich soil is heavy in the air.
There’s a cutout in the rock, not a cave but a recess, and the sound of the crashing water is amplified. Sunlight shines through the wall of water, creating rainbows on the rising mist.
“This is pretty incredible,” Landon says, raising his voice so I can hear him.
I look around, feeling nostalgic.
“My dad brought me here for the first time when I was only five,” I find myself telling Landon, though I’m not sure why. Maybe because he’s the only one here. “It was autumn, when the falls were lazy, and he carried me across the boulders on his shoulders.”
I close my eyes and breathe in deep, letting the smells and sounds trigger the memory of him in a way that nothing has in a very long time.
When I open my eyes, I find Landon watching me with an enigmatic look on his face. Feeling a little emotional, I laugh to stave off the tears. It’s been so long since Dad passed. I’m not sure why it’s hitting me so hard now.
“Your hair is awesome,” Landon finally says, cocking his head to the side, studying me in the misty, filtered sunlight.
I can feel myself blushing, and I raise a hand to my ponytail. “It does strange things in humidity.”
“The color is really pretty.” He steps closer. “In certain lights, it’s almost red.”
“It does that.” Unsure how to answer, I sort of shrug. I hope it doesn’t look as awkward as it feels. After a moment, I gesture to the falls. “Weren’t you going to film a little?”
As if remembering, he steps back and digs his hand into the cargo flap of his hiking pants. “Right.”
I watch as he scans the waterfall, moving slowly, and then he turns the camera on me.
Rolling my eyes, grinning because it’s so hard to have the lens focused on me, I give him a wave. He smiles, pleased, and moves on.
It’s too loud to narrate, so he stays silent as he pans the scene. After a minute or so, he turns the camera off. Once again, it’s just us. Even though our families are on the other side of the falls, it feels private back here, like we’re in our own fairytale world.
It’s actually sort of romantic, the perfect setting for an unforgettable first kiss.
Because my mind wanders there, and because I don’t trust myself, I step away. “We should probably go back.”
“Yeah,” Landon agrees.
I sigh with relief as we step out from behind the watery curtain and into view of the others. At the same time, a part of me is disappointed we didn’t stay just a bit longer.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Here’s your map and the code to the bathrooms and showers,” I say to the couple at my counter. “Enjoy your stay.”
Mom comes into the front office as they’re leaving, and she holds the door open, welcoming them to the park.
“I’m working in the coffee shop for Betta while she drives her dad to the doctor,” Mom says when we’re alone. Her hair is up in a cute French twist, and she even has dangling earrings in. “I have to leave now, but I promised Sarah I’d get her this book today. It took me a while to find it. Will you take it to her?”
She sets a sewing guide on the counter, one that promises you can make a quilt in twenty-four hours. That seems ambitious.
I rub my ear, turning back to my screen. “Right now?”
“Would you stop avoiding that boy?” Mom says in a tone that’s half a laugh and half a scold. “He’s sweet, and he must be bored to death. You of all people know Gray Jay isn’t the most thrilling place for a teenager to spend their summer.”
I give her a look.
She slaps the counter. “Take the book, Lacey.”
Resisting the urge to pull a Hunter and sulk, I do as I’m told. “Yes, Ma’am.”
“Good girl,” she says like I’m either three years old or a dog. With a breezy “love you,” she’s out the door.
In the last week, I’ve done a spectacular job of avoiding Landon. It’s not that I don’t like him—I do. He’s funny and sweet, and heaven knows he’s cute. But that’s the problem.
Every time I see him, my breath catches, and my stomach flutters. I know it’s just a crush, something meaningless, but I don’t want to feel that way about him or anyone else.
Though I continually tell Paige I don’t want a summer boy, in truth, I’m not sure I want a boy at all. Better to guard your heart, end up alone, than have it broken over and over. Whether they leave you specifically or just leave Gray Jay, the result is the same. It still hurts.
Hoping the Tillmans are gone, I walk the campground road, taking my time, checking my flowers on the way to Site Twenty-nine. The Suburban’s gone, which gives me hope, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that Landon doesn’t always go with the rest of the family on their outings.
The Tillmans have a simple set up compared to some of the other campers. They have no outdoor lights, no signs, and—thank goodness—no plastic flamingos. They have a woven rug in front of the door, a cheerful one in red and white. A few bikes lean against the picnic table, but the others are on the rack on the back of the trailer, out of the way. A small tent stands near the rear of the site, and it’s crammed full of Caleb and McKenna’s toys. Their site practically screams happy family.
I come to a stop in front of the door, debating whether I should knock. I don’t want to upset George and Candy if they’re in there.
As I’m standing here, with the book held tightly in my arms, Landon comes walking down the campground road, talking in
to that video recorder again. He has it on a selfie stick today, and I desperately want to tease him about it…but that might be considered flirting, and I just can’t go there.
“Hey.” A smile lights Landon’s face when he sees me. “What are you doing here?”
I hold the book out in front of me. “My mom wanted me to drop this by, but I wasn’t sure if you were here. I didn’t want to disturb the dogs.”
Landon retracts the stick, turns off the recorder, and heads my way. He must have had his hair cut in the last few days. It looks a little trimmer on the sides and shorter on top, though there’s still plenty of it to run your fingers through.
I blink that distracting thought away.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, smile firmly affixed on his face. He walks my way, advancing on me like a panther.
Shaking my head, I take a step back. “No…”
“Why?” He’s close now, just a couple feet away.
“Why what?” My eyes fall to his chest. His T-shirt is faded navy with a weathered twenty-four on it. As far as I know, it’s just a meaningless, random number, but my eyes zero in on it.
“Why are you avoiding me, Lacey?”
I rip my gaze from his shirt, making myself meet his eyes. “I don’t have…” I trail off, not wanting to make a fool of myself by saying, I don’t have flings with summer boys, because that would be me assuming he’s interested in me. And I don’t know—maybe he’s just indulging in some casual flirting to pass the time. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it.
He raises a sandy brow. “Friends?”
I bark out a laugh. “Yes, Landon, I don’t have friends. That’s exactly what I was going to say.”
“Well, if you weren’t going to say that, you were going to say something else.” He gives me a sly grin. “Which means you’re okay with us being friends.”
“Are we six now?” I tease, and then I make my voice a higher pitch. “Will you be my friend, Landon?”
If the Summer Lasted Forever Page 5