Page 86 of The Outpost (Jamison Valley 4)
“Yeah.” I took his outstretched hand and followed his lead into the meadow. I’d added it to my new novel’s setting too, but not because I was worried I’d forget. Just like I’d never forget the first time Beau and I’d had sex or how he’d looked in the bathroom after shaving his beard, this meadow was permanently etched into my memory. No, I’d included it in my book because I wanted to share it with others.
If I ever got the chance to share my books.
“Are you doing okay?” he asked as we strolled.
“I’m sad.”
The three-letter word didn’t really describe how I was feeling but it was the best I could come up with. This little building was where I’d found myself again. Where I’d found a new path. Where I’d found love. Saying good-bye to the place that had nurtured it all wasn’t just sad.
“It doesn’t have to be forever. Anytime you want to come back, I’ll bring you.”
I hoped I’d get the chance.
“Thank you, Beau.” I squeezed his hand. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that. Thank you for everything. For bringing me up here. For keeping me safe. I’ll always be grateful for the time I had here.”
“You’re welcome, Sabrina.” He squeezed my hand right back.
We let Boone run and play in the open field as we wandered slowly through the wilting grasses. As the sun started to descend, we made our way back to the outpost to say one last good-bye.
Standing in the middle of the open room, my eyes wandered over the bare walls and the empty floors. They lingered on the place where Beau and I had set up our bed, the same place where he’d made love to me last night. When my gaze hit the log chair, I smiled, thinking about all of the hours I’d spent writing in that seat.
As much as I wanted to take that chair with me, it needed to stay.
“Ready to go?” Beau asked, wrapping his arms around me from behind.
I leaned back into him, resting against his heart and gripping his forearms under my chin. “Not really, but we’d better go anyway.”
Beau kissed the top of my hair before letting me go. Then, hand in hand, we walked outside, locking up the door before climbing in his truck.
As he pulled away, I lost control of my tears and they dripped down my cheeks. Boone snuggled into my side as I sniffled, resting his cute face on my lap to give me the only comfort he knew how. Beau reached out and laced his fingers with mine, holding them tight but staying quiet so I could have my moment to grieve the loss of my home.
Just as abruptly as it had started, it was over.
I watched my outpost disappear into the trees through blurry eyes and a side-view mirror. I left a part of my heart at the outpost today.
And if it hurt this much to say good-bye to a building, I’d never be able to say good-bye to Beau. If I weren’t in danger—if life could go back to normal—I’d uproot everything and fit my life to his just to avoid the pain of leaving his side.
All he had to do was ask me to stay.
It took almost the entire three-hour drive back to Prescott for my mood to improve, but my spirits finally lifted once I focused on all the positives of this new chapter in my Montana escape.
I would get to see Beau every single day. We’d sleep together every single night. We’d wake up together every single morning. So what if I was confined to the walls of his home like a recluse? At least he’d be inside with me.
The sun was slowly setting by the time we pulled off the gravel road and onto the highway that led to Prescott. A few miles later, we crossed the bridge into town and slowed as we passed through downtown. The sky was a beautiful peach color and cast a soft glow on the town.
“Everything is so well-kept.” The last time I’d driven through Prescott had been during the middle of the night and I hadn’t been able to see inside the tiny shop windows or into the restaurants that filled the short road. “There’s more here than I would have thought for a small town. Why is that?”
“Bozeman is the closest city and it’s over an hour away, so Prescott has to serve as the hub for the whole county. We’ve got more commerce than you might find in other small towns, and in general, people here like to shop local when they can and support one another.”
“That makes sense.”
“We get a lot of business from tourists driving through to Yellowstone National Park too. Most owners have found that if they keep things up and give it a certain West
ern feel, the tourists are more willing to stop and spend money.”
They had that right. I could already see myself buying things I didn’t really need. That was, if I was ever allowed to leave the house and roam free.
I soaked it all in until Beau turned and maneuvered down some side streets. I’d been to his house before, the night I’d arrived in Montana, but it had been so dark that I hadn’t been able to see the neighborhood well. Now that it was light and my mind wasn’t distracted, I could really take it all in.
