Николас Спаркс - The Longest Ride

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just tired.”

She could feel his attention, which tonight for some reason left her strangely unsettled.

“Do you know what I think?” he asked. “I think Marcia said something to you and it made you upset.”

Sophia didn’t answer right away. “Why would you say that?” she asked, her voice weaker than what she’d expected.

He shrugged. “When I called you to tell you that I was on my way, I could barely get you off the phone. By the time I got to the house, you’d gone silent. And I noticed the way you and Marcia kept glancing at each other. It was like the two of you had just shared some kind of confession, and neither of you was happy about it.”

The warmth from the cup radiated into her hands. “You’re very perceptive for a guy who can go a whole day without talking,” she said, peering up at him.

“That’s why I’m perceptive.”

His answer reminded her of the reasons they’d become so close so fast. But whether that was such a good idea wasn’t quite so clear anymore.

“You’re thinking again,” he chided. “And it’s beginning to make me nervous.”

Despite the tension, she laughed.

“Where do you think all this is going?” she suddenly asked, echoing Marcia’s earlier question.

“Between us, you mean?”

“I’m going to be graduating in the spring. Just a few months from now. What’s going to happen then? What happens when I move back home? Or get a job somewhere?”

He leaned forward, putting his cup on the coffee table before slowly turning to face her again. “I don’t know,” he said.

“You don’t know?”

His face was unreadable. “I can’t tell the future any more than you can.”

“That sounds like an excuse.”

“I’m not making excuses,” he said. “I’m just trying to be honest.”

“But you’re not saying anything!” she cried, hearing her own desperation and hating it.

Luke kept his voice steady. “Then how about this? I love you. I want to be with you. We’ll find a way to make it work.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t.”

“Even if that means you have to move to New Jersey?”

The firelight cast half his face in shadow. “You want me to move to New Jersey?”

“What’s wrong with New Jersey?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I told you that I’ve been there before and that I liked it.”

“But?”

For the first time, his eyes dropped. “I can’t leave the ranch until I know my mom’s going to be okay,” he said with a certain finality.

She understood his reasons, and yet…

“You want me to stay here,” she said. “After graduation.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I would never ask you to do that.”

She couldn’t hide her exasperation. “Then, again, what are we going to do?”

He put his hands on his knees. “We’re not the first couple to face something like this. My feeling is, if it was meant to be, we’ll figure it out. No, I don’t know the answers, and no, I can’t tell you how it’s all going to play out. And if you were leaving today, I’d be more worried about it. But we’ve got six months, and things might be different by then… Maybe I’ll be riding well and I won’t be so worried about the ranch, or maybe I’ll be digging up one of the fence posts one day and discover some buried treasure. Or maybe we’ll end up losing the ranch entirely and I’ll have to move anyway. Or maybe you’ll get a job in Charlotte, someplace close enough to commute. I don’t know.” He leaned closer, no doubt trying to underscore his words. “The only thing I do know for sure is that if we both want to, we’ll find a way to make it work.”

She knew it was the only thing he could say, but the question of their future still left her feeling unsettled. She didn’t say that, though. Instead, she scooted closer and let him slip his arm around her, his body warm against hers. She drew a long breath, wishing that time could somehow stop. Or at least slow down. “Okay,” she whispered.

He kissed her hair, then rested his chin on top of her head. “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I love you, too.”

“I’m going to miss you while you’re gone.”

“Me too.”

“But I’m glad you’ll spend some time with your family.”

“Me too.”

“Maybe I’ll drive up to New Jersey and surprise you.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “You can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not saying you’re not welcome to visit me. I’m just saying it won’t be a surprise. You kind of ruined it.”

He thought about that. “I guess I did, didn’t I? Well, maybe I’ll surprise you by not coming.”

“You better come. My parents want to meet you. They’ve never met a cowboy before and I know they have this crazy picture in their heads in which you walk around with a six-shooter and say things like ‘Howdy, pardner.’”

He laughed. “I guess I’ll disappoint them.”

“No,” she said. “That’s one thing you won’t do.”

At that, Luke smiled. “How about New Year’s Eve? You doing anything?”

“I don’t know. Am I?”

“Now you are.”

“Perfect. But you can’t show up at night. You’re going to have to spend some time with my parents, like I said.”

“Fair enough,” he said. He nodded toward the corner. “Do you want to help me decorate the tree?”

“What tree?”

“It’s out back. I picked it out yesterday and dragged it over. It’s kind of small and sparse and it wasn’t likely to sell, but I thought it might be nice in here. So you know what you’ll be missing.”

She leaned into him. “I already know what I’ll be missing.”

An hour later, Sophia and Luke stood back and admired their work.

“It’s not quite right,” Luke said, crossing his arms as he surveyed the tinsel-strewn tree. “It needs something more.”

“There’s not much more we can do with it,” Sophia said, reaching out to adjust a strand of lights. “A lot of the branches are already sagging.”

“It’s not that,” he said. “It’s… Hold on. I’ll be right back. I know exactly what it needs. Just give me a minute —”

Sophia watched him disappear into the bedroom and return with a medium-size gift box, tied with ribbon. He walked past her and set it beneath the tree, then joined her again.

“Much better,” he said.

She looked over at him. “Is that for me?”

“As a matter of fact, it is.”

“That’s not fair. I didn’t get you anything.”

“I don’t want anything.”

“That may be, but now I feel bad.”

“Don’t. You can make it up to me later.”

She studied him. “You knew I was going to say that, didn’t you?”

“It was all part of my plan.”

“What’s in it?”

“Go ahead,” he urged. “Open it.”

She approached the tree and picked up the box. It was light enough for her to guess what was inside before she’d untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. She pulled it out and held it in front of her, examining it. Dyed black and made of straw, it was decorated with beads and a band that held in place a small feather.

“A cowboy hat?”

“A nice one,” he said. “For girls.”

“Is there a difference?”

“Well, I would never wear one with a feather or beads. And I figured that since you were coming out here so much, you really needed your own.”

She leaned over and kissed him. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Merry Christmas.”

She put it on and peered up at him coquettishly. “How does it look?”

“Beautiful,” he said. “But then again, you always look beautiful.”