Page 14 of No Turning Back
She thought I would run when I found out about Mari, but all she did was solidify in my heart that they are mine. When Sydney told Wrenn that Mari’s father was dead, yeah, I was glad, but more than that, I was determined to make sure Mari never knows the pain I did when I lost my mom. That she will always have support.
Sydney’s hands clench on my stomach as we take a turn, and I’m instantly thinking about that kiss again. About the way she felt in my arms. The way her body responded to mine. My brothers in the club say it took just one look for them to fall. I don’t care what it was. I want to keep feeling it.
I leisurely take her around Chapelville and around the back roads until we reach the area where my property is. I turn on to the gravel driveway I had put in last fall, careful of my precious cargo behind me. We make our way down the tree-lined lane until it opens up to the field where I’ll build my house someday. Right where my house will be, I have a small canopy set up with picnic fixings. I pull to a stop and shut off the bike. She swings her leg off and stands there for a moment, letting her legs adjust.
I can tell she’s not used to riding as much as I am. I stand up and take off my helmet as she takes hers off too.
“What is this place?” She looks around the clearing.
“This is where I plan to build my house. It’s my place. Well, I mean it will be. I live at the compound right now, but someday I’m going to build here.” I wave my hands around the area.
“It’s beautiful. My gram’s farm isn’t far from here.”
“Where?” I lead her over to the blanket, and she sits down with her legs crossed, almost sitting on her feet.
“About two miles that way.” She points in the direction to where a new development is being built. “My gram passed a while ago, and my mom recently had her new home built on the property.”
“Ah.” I lift my chin as I sit down and open the basket.
I take out the sandwiches, cheese and meat platter, and fruit. I pull out the two bottles of water and hand her one.
We spend the time getting to know each other, but she doesn’t offer very much about herself as we eat. Just that she grew up here and in South Africa. She tells me her parents are divorced and her mom is the only one she talks to. I can hear the pain in her voice when she mentions her father has a new family and lives in another country.
“What brought you home now?” I ask the million-dollar question.
Wrenn has asked her the same thing and got the story that she wanted to raise Mari here, but I know that’s not the real reason.
She rolls to her side and stands, a motion that doesn’t put much strain on her leg. I watch her limp for a moment.
“What’s wrong with your leg, spitfire?”
She looks back at me, and I watch her eyes shutter. “On my last assignment, I was in an accident. My ankle was hurt. Sometimes it still bothers me.” She brushes it off.
“What did you do in Africa? I’ve heard you say you’ve been on conservation teams, but what does that mean?” I stand up and move toward her, but she moves off.
“I was with several scientists filming and studying elephants and rhinos. Before that I did the same but travelled a bit. I’ve been to Alaska. That’s where I met my friend Lydia. She helped me get the job at the Nashville Zoo,” she explains, but I see the pause and wait for her to continue. “Helping rhinos and elephants is all I’ve wanted to do since the first moment I saw them in the wild. The first time I saw the slaughter of their lives, I cried for days.”
I can’t take the space between us and move to her body. I wrap myself around her back. Her head drops forward and I feel a tear hit my hand. I turn her toward me.
“Spitfire, what you do does help and educates people.” I look down into her eyes that are now as green as the grass in this field in the spring.
“But is it enough? Is it ever enough?” Her voice quivers.
“What more is there?”
“My life,” she says quietly.
“No, Sydney, you have Mari and me to live for. You can’t give us up too.”
She faceplants into my chest, her arms still at her sides.
“I’m ready to go home, Tucker.” I can barely hear the words.
“Okay.”
I turn and walk away from her, digesting the words she said. I didn’t even get to show her the lake beyond the tree line. I wanted her to explore the area with me more, but I can tell she’s in her head. She’d give her life up for animals, but would she for me? Maybe someday.
I clean up the picnic and take down the canopy. Walking over to the edge of the woods, I slip everything inside the large tote I brought out yesterday. I’ll be back later with my truck to pick it up.
