More Than a Memory by Amber Nation

Author:Amber Nation [Nation, Amber]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Amazon: B00RKMEHQ4
Barnesnoble: B00RKMEHQ4
Goodreads: 23621332
Publisher: Amber Nation
Published: 2014-12-29T05:00:00+00:00

Pulling up in front of the old covered bridge, our bridge, I couldn’t believe that I had completely missed seeing it yesterday. I hurried out of the truck just as soon as Baylor put it in park. The area was abandoned even when I was younger; it was one of the more forgotten bridges in Cottage Grove. By the looks of things, bits and pieces of the wood had been refurnished or replaced; the area outside of the bridge had been weeded and thoroughly taken care of.

I walked over to the entrance where the railings started to lead across the little creek underneath. The slats in the railing brought back the most memories, Baylor and I used to sit right at the entrance where our feet would dangle right above the rippling stream. I unzipped my raincoat since the rain had taken a little break and sat down in between the beams just like we used to do when we were younger.

I looked back to Baylor who had his hands in his pockets and was just standing on the wooden platform. He looked off into the distance and began to speak, “I come here often and touch up on different parts that have rotted. Norah and I even make it a project to stain the wood once a year, kind of a father/daughter bonding time. But we enjoy it and it keeps the bridge looking a little less worn down,” he lightly chuckled.

“Why would you do that?” I couldn’t understand why he would take time out of his busy life to take care of a useless old bridge.

He sat down next to me, hanging his legs over the side and making some stray rocks fall into the creek. “Because this bridge has a lot of meaning to me,” he slapped a hand on a beam of wood, “it’s a piece of my youth. I remember us always coming here after school; we would sit here and talk while Dean traveled down into the creek like the adventurer he is.” He looked down at his overworked hands and spoke a bit lower than before, “It was the place I fell in love with you, and I now own it.”

I couldn’t wrap my head around what I was hearing; he loved me when we were younger? And he bought this bridge because of all the memories that it inhabited. I had to place a hand over my erratically beating heart. “You own this bridge and preserve it because of me?”

“I love this bridge,” he looked down the entire length of the structure. “When I heard that they were planning to tear it down, the boy in me couldn’t let that happen and just wash away years of memories along with it, and the architect in me couldn’t just sit around and let it crumble because of lack of attention.” He leaned back on his hands, still taking in all of the wooden beams. I couldn’t help but to watch him closely observing and admiring the structure that he helped rejuvenate.

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