Николас Спаркс - The Longest Ride

As the holidays loomed closer, they would spend much of the weekend in the grove of Christmas trees. While Luke did the cutting, hauling, and tying up of the trees, Sophia worked the register. During lulls, she was able to study for finals.

Luke had also begun to practice in earnest on the mechanical bull again. Sometimes she’d watch him atop the hood of a rusting tractor in the rickety barn. The bull was set up in a makeshift ring thickly padded with foam to break his falls. Usually he started off slowly, riding just hard enough to loosen his muscles, before setting the bull on high. The bull would spin and dip and shift directions abruptly, yet somehow Luke would stay centered, holding his free hand up and away from his body. He would ride three or four times, then sit with her while he recovered. Then he would climb into the ring again, the practice session sometimes lasting up to two hours. Though he never complained, she could recognize his soreness in the way he occasionally winced while shifting position or altering his walk. Sunday nights often found him in his bedroom, surrounded by candles as Sophia kneaded his muscles, trying to work out his aches and pains.

Though they spent little time together on campus, they would sometimes go to dinner or a movie, and once they even visited a country bar, where they listened to the same band that had been playing on the night they’d met, Luke teaching her to line dance at last. Luke made the world more vivid somehow, more real, and when they weren’t together, she inevitably found her thoughts drifting toward him.

The second week of December brought with it an early cold front, a heavy storm that blew down from Canada. It was the first snow of the season, and though most of it had melted by the following afternoon, Sophia and Luke spent part of the morning admiring the white-capped beauty of the ranch before hiking to the grove of Christmas trees on what ended up being the busiest day to that point.

Later, as had become their habit, they headed over to his mother’s. While Luke worked on replacing the brake pads in his truck, Linda taught Sophia how to bake. Luke hadn’t been lying about how good her pies were, and they passed an enjoyable afternoon in the kitchen, chatting and laughing, their aprons coated with flour.

Spending time with Linda reminded Sophia of her parents and all the sacrifices they’d made for her. Watching Linda and Luke tease and joke with each other made her wonder whether she’d have the same kind of relationship with her own parents someday. Gone would be the little girl they remembered; in her place would be not only their daughter, but perhaps a friend as well. Being part of Luke’s life had made her feel more like an adult. With only a semester to go, she no longer wondered what the point of college had been. The ups and downs, the dreams and struggles, had all been part of the journey, she realized – a journey that led to a cattle ranch near a town called King, where she had fallen in love with a cowboy named Luke.

“Again?” Marcia whined. She crossed her legs on the bed, pulling her oversize sweater down over her tights. “What? Twelve weekends in a row at the ranch weren’t enough for you?”

“You’re exaggerating.” Sophia rolled her eyes, adding a final coat of lip gloss. Next to her, her small bag was already packed.

“Of course I am. But it’s our last weekend before Christmas break. We leave on Wednesday, and I’ve barely spent any time with you at all this semester.”

“We’re together all the time,” Sophia protested.

“No,” Marcia said. “We used to spend time together. Now you’re at the ranch with him almost every weekend. You didn’t even go to the winter formal last weekend. Our winter formal.”

“You know I don’t care for those kinds of events.”

“Don’t you mean he doesn’t care for them?”

Sophia brought her lips together, not wanting to sound defensive but feeling the first hint of irritation in the way Marcia sounded. “Neither of us wanted to go, okay? He was working and he needed my help.”

Marcia ran her hand through her hair, clearly exasperated. “I don’t know how to say this without making you mad at me.”

“Say what?”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“What are you talking about?” Sophia put down her tube of lip gloss and turned to face her friend.

Marcia tossed up her hands. “Think about how it looks – imagine what you’d say if our roles were reversed. Say I was in a relationship for two years —”

“Not likely,” Sophia stopped her.

“Okay, and I know it’s hard, but just pretend. I’m doing this for you. Say I went through a truly awful breakup and was hiding out in my room for weeks, then out of the blue, I meet this guy. So I talk to him and visit him the next day, and then talk to him on the phone and visit him the next weekend. Pretty soon, I’m treating him like he’s my whole world and spending every free minute with him. What would you think? That it just so happened that I met Mr. Right while I was rebounding from a horrible breakup? I mean, what are the odds?”

Sophia could feel blood begin to pound in her veins. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

“I’m saying that you could be making a mistake. And that if you’re not careful, you could end up getting hurt.”

“I’m not making a mistake,” Sophia snapped, zipping up the bag. “And I’m not going to get hurt. I like spending time with Luke.”

“I know.” Marcia softened, patting the bed beside her. “Sit down with me,” she pleaded. “Please?”

Sophia debated before crossing the room and taking a seat on the bed. Marcia faced her.

“I get that you like him,” she said. “I really do. And I’m glad you’re happy again. But where do you see this going? I mean, if it were me, I’d be happy to hang out and have fun, just see where it goes and live for the day. But I’d never let myself think for one minute that I’m going to spend the rest of my life with the guy.”

“I’m not thinking that either,” Sophia interjected.

Marcia picked at her sweater. “Are you sure? Because that’s not the impression I get.” She paused, her expression almost sad. “You shouldn’t have fallen in love with him. And every time you’re with him, you’re only making it worse for yourself.”

Sophia flushed. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re not thinking clearly,” Marcia answered. “If you were, you’d be thinking about the fact that you’re a senior in college – an art history major from New Jersey, for God’s sake – while Luke rides bulls and lives on a ranch in rural North Carolina. You’d be wondering what was going to happen in six months, once you graduate.” She stopped, forcing Sophia to concentrate on what she was really saying. “Can you imagine living on a ranch for the next fifty years? Riding horses, herding cows, and cleaning out stalls for the rest of your life?”

She shook her head. “No —”

“Oh,” Marcia said, cutting her off. “Then maybe you see Luke living in New York City while you work at a museum? Maybe you imagine the two of you spending every Sunday morning at the latest brunch hot spots, sipping cappuccinos and reading the New York Times ? Is that how you picture your future together?”

When Sophia didn’t answer, Marcia reached over and squeezed her hand.

“I know how much you care about him,” she went on. “But your lives aren’t just on different tracks, they’re on different continents. And that means you’re going to have to watch your heart from here on, because if you don’t, it’s going to end up breaking into all sorts of pieces.”

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Luke said between sips of hot cocoa. Sophia held her hands around her cup, staring out from their spot on the couch at the snow flurries beyond the window, the second snow of the season, though this one wasn’t likely to stick. As usual, Luke had the fireplace going, but she couldn’t shake the chill she felt.