Page 52 of Mountain Pine
I can’t bear the thought of him casting me out. It would confirm my deepest fears that I’m not good enough for the woman I love.
“Stop it.”
Turning up the radio to drown out my thoughts, I wind the windows down and head back to the campsite. A week here wasn’t long enough. I need a year.
Whenever I was under too much stress as a kid, I’d come out here and pitch a tent and be on my own or with the guys. Dean’s grandpa would act as our “parental figure” but wouldn’t stay with us. Other times I’d forge a consent form from my parents just in case a game warden caught me.
Kids, do not do that. It was stupid of me.
I lucked out by not getting hurt or killed or lost or arrested for my dipshit behavior back then. Andjust because the universe likes to remind me that yeah, I’ve made some reckless choices in my day, I walk straight into a new one when I approach my campsite.
“Damn.”
My hammock is torn up, and no longer tied to the trees. My cooler is tipped over, but it’s bear proof. My tent looks untouched. Phew. Small bear tracks are all over the campsite. Not surprising. This is Bear Creek, after all. But I need to be way more careful because they’re fresh out of hibernation. Even if my campsite is pretty “bear proof” that doesn’t mean they still won’t get curious and fuck around.
The first instinct to pop into my head is to text Taylor and tell her not to come. It isn’t safe. But that’s foolish. She’s out here foraging for stuff all the time and knows how to tread carefully in these woods. My second instinct is to call Nick and Bennet to make sure they’re okay. I have no clue how recent this bear exploration is. A quick text to both of them has me relieved when their responses are that they’re fine and had no troubles. My third instinct is to clean up and pack. Just be done with it and go home. Give the wildlife their nature back.
Fuck that though. I need to do this as much as I need Taylor. The silence. The seclusion. The time away from everything. So I clean it all up and head out for some more supplies and come back and wait until it’s close to Taylor time then I text her.
Me: Let me know when you get here. I don’t want you walking in the woods by yourself.
It’s only a few minutes before she replies.
Taylor: Okay.
Wow. She didn’t argue with me. That’s a first.
A little bubble of pride pops up in my chestagain because she lets me protect her. It meant the world to me earlier when she said she feels safe around me.
As she fucking should.
Me: You don’t have to come out here. I can come to you.
Taylor: Nope. It’s a good night for a swim.
She even adds a winky face.
Taylor: Full moon tonight too!
She shoots me a selfie of her in one of my favorite white dresses. No bra, of course. And she’s holding a fresh jar of pickles.
God love her.
Me: Brought my own pickle.
The selfie of me smirking and shirtless isn’t the best angle, but it’ll work.
She sends me back a skull emoji.
Okay, now I’m excited that I didn’t pack up and leave and she’ll be here soon so I’ve gotta bust ass to set things up before she arrives.
Those bears better not come back.
Chapter 17
Taylor
I’m not a glamper. Seriously. I swear. Today’s just a special occasion. Which means I’m dragging this big ass collapsable cart through the woods like a woman who would be the first to die in a slasher film. The ground is uneven and muddy. I’m in my favorite set of work boots and a sundress. My cart is filled with candles, wine, blankets, pillows, and a big fat jar of dill pickles.
