River in the Mountains (River's End Series Book 13) by Leanne Davis

Author:Leanne Davis [Davis, Leanne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-03-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

VIOLET RAPIDLY WENT DOWNHILL in the two weeks she spent without Gage. She felt lonelier than she could remember. Freaked out by it, she packed up the horses and rode down the trail, loading them into the horse trailer at the trailhead and driving into town. She stabled the horses with an old high school buddy who also let her shower and crash for the night. She went to the store the next day and stocked up on fresh supplies. With the horses rested and overfed, she hauled her supplies back into camp. She didn’t go home. Not to the ranch. She just didn’t want to. Not in August. She needed a break from her family and their overbearing sympathy and concern. Plus, if she checked in, even temporarily, they’d find it harder to let her go off by herself again. Any physical proximity would prevent her from returning to camp. So she merely called them and avoided the entire scenario: her dad’s insistence she stay home with them. Her mom’s love and hugs and sympathetic eyes. Her sisters’ unmasked concern.

Claustrophobic. Violet could not stand so much sympathy. Yes, she’d watched her fiancé snap his neck. She heard it. Witnessed it. Dreamt about it. Her nightmares relived it often. And no one could significantly help her forget it or get past it.

So, naturally, she didn’t want to go home yet.

Refreshed for camping after a short break, she fully intended to banish Gage Sullivan from her experience. She recalled how much she liked being alone, isolated, in total solitude. But she was not lonely before. That was the magic key.

She fell back into her routine. She explored more of the area by taking hikes up to other peaks. She climbed many mountains she never did before. They were exhausting and primarily on uneven terrain, which did the trick: leaving her in a state of exhaustion most nights.

She didn’t dream. She didn’t cry. She didn’t smile.

She didn’t think about Preston… or Gage.

But she knew exactly when the Friday before Labor Day weekend arrived. And she wondered, no… she hoped to see him and hated herself for it. For that irrepressible hope. For another man. For his company, companionship, conversation, care… and sex. Most of all, she hated that.

But she still hoped for it.

She missed it. She longed for him to show up. She doubted he’d return. Not after he got back to his normal life. He wouldn’t care about her. She’d soon become a distant memory. A good lay. A wonderful fantasy.

Why couldn’t she believe that?

Gage? No, it didn’t fit him.

Finally, the sun began to set. She dipped into her newly stocked food supply and prepared a real roast with fresh vegetables over the fire. A complete meal. She let it simmer and the aroma was mouth-watering and homey. She sipped some cold milk from her grocery run. Living the life of luxury. She tipped her glass in a toast to her lonely fire. Yeah, not exactly what most would call luxury.

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