She narrowed her eyes when she realized that I was laughing. The way her face turned red and her lips pursed only made me laugh harder.
“You jerk!” she squealed while taking a swat at my arm. “It’s not funny. Whatever was out there scared the hell out of me.”
I jumped away before she could make contact and laughed again. “Since when are you scared of a few squirrels in the woods?”
She balled her hands into fists and slammed them to her sides. “I didn’t say I heard squirrels. I heard footsteps and an animal, then something went by my head so fast that I couldn’t see it, but I swear to you, Ridge, something—or someone was out there.”
I rolled my eyes. Camila was still a wild one, and her constant flair for the dramatics was nothing new. “And where would they have come from, huh? My dad and I have been out here all day.” It would take a person days to walk through the land surrounding our properties, and she knew it. I pointed behind her toward her house. “Maybe someone from your party went for a walk and got lost.”
Camila’s expression changed as she looked back toward the woods, like she was considering my words. “I suppose that could be it.” When she exhaled next, she was still close to me, and I got a good whiff of her breath.
My gaze narrowed on her. “Are you drunk?”
Guilt flooded her expression, and her mouth opened before she snapped it shut.
“No wonder you were hearing things out there. Does your papa know?”
Her eyes widened, and she threw herself at me, gripping my shirt with both of her small hands. “No, and you can’t tell him.”
Heat flared in my chest. “Why would I tell Patrick Bell anything? And give him more reason to kill the only business we have left? No, thank you.” As much as I didn’t want to blame Camila for her father’s business dealings, it was hard not to.
“Papa said he hasn’t done anything and that he has no reason to cause your family harm. I want to believe him, Ridge. But what’s happening to you and Harold isn’t fair, no matter who is behind it.”
I wanted to believe her, but I also wanted to hate her. She was impossible to argue with or stay mad at for a second. Frustrated, I aimed for a subject change. “What are you doing in the woods, anyway? Don’t you have a party to be at?” Then I took another look at her attire. “Looks like you’re missing out on all the fun.”
Still appearing flushed from the wine, she looked down at her dress and bit down on her lip. When she looked back up, something had changed in her expression. “I hate this feud, Ridge. All I could think about all day was how you and Harold should be there too. Do you think our parents even know why they’re fighting anymore?”
“Probably not. Our fathers are proud men. Protective of their land to the point that they’d do practically anything to keep it safe from outsiders. Even if that means fighting each other.”
“But why?”
“Why” was Camila’s famous question. Why continue to hold onto a grudge that neither of them started? Why continue to fan the flames of hate when everyone had the same goal in mind? I’d resolved that we would never know the depth of our families’ war.
I rubbed my thumb across Camila’s cheek. I hadn’t meant to care for her the way I did. She was only sixteen, yet she still felt like my only real friend in that town. “I don’t know, Wild One.” I pulled my hand away, trying to ignore the look she gave me—like she already missed my touch. “We might never know.”
I shouldn’t have noticed a lot of things about Camila, like how her eyes changed shades of green based on the backdrop around her, the way they sparkled in the sun and lit up when she had something exciting to say, or the way her long, thick lashes fell over her cheeks when she felt relaxed while leaning against the tree. I shouldn’t have noticed the way her bratty, know-it-all tone had changed into something more poignant, thoughtful, and introspective. But Camila loved to talk philosophy and history in a way that held my attention like no one else could.
Also, I shouldn’t have wanted to protect her in a way that she didn’t ever ask for or need. But ever since we’d stumbled upon that mine below the hillside, I hadn’t been able to stop worrying about her. She was still wild and reckless, with no regard for her own safety, and while that made her fascinating to me, it also propelled me to think about her far more than was right.
I shoved all those thoughts aside. “You should be getting back.”
She nodded, though she looked like she had no desire to go back. Then she faced me with the most heartbreaking stare that made me want to hold her and never let her go. “Did you really mean what you said to me?”
Her words came out in a rush, blowing through me like a winter storm. She didn’t have to elaborate on her question. I’d told her that she meant nothing to me when the opposite was true. I didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but she was there, offering it to me on a silver platter.
“No, Camila. I didn’t mean it. Not at all.”
She took a deep breath and smiled. That was all it took to put us back together, but I knew it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t.
“C’mon, I’ll walk you to the bridge.” Then I smiled softly and tucked her under my arm. “So the boogeyman doesn’t get you.”
When she glared up at me, I winked and started forward.
“One day, when the vineyard is mine,” Camila said with so much conviction that she almost sounded angry, “you’ll get an invite to every event, every harvest, and every farmer’s market.”
I chuckled. “You’re still drunk.”
“In fact,” she said, ignoring me, “you won’t even need an invite. You’ll just waltz on over, any time you please. We’ll drink wine from the barrel and stroll through the vineyard. We’ll pick grapes from the vines then cross that damn bridge to snap corn off your stalks too.”
“Whoa, now,” I teased. “Getting a little ahead of yourself. Who says I’ll still be here?”
The look she gave me next made me regret my words. Even if she didn’t know how true they were, the sadness washing over her face twisted me up inside.
“You planning on going somewhere, Ridge?”
“I was thinking about it.”
She paused a moment before shaking it off. “You still have the rest of the year left before you graduate to think about it.”
We’d talked about the future, but lately, my thoughts had been changing. I could graduate high school from anywhere, and college wasn’t something I wanted to pursue. A fancy degree wasn’t necessary for farming or going on the adventures I’d been dreaming about. “I was thinking about getting away for a bit after the season’s up,” I said, waving my arms around me at the field I’d only just made a dent in harvesting. “Harold doesn’t really need me here during the off-season, and I’m almost done with school. I can finish anywhere.”
“But you will come back, right? Harold will need you in the spring, and—”
“I didn’t ask for all this.” Though I didn’t mean to interrupt her, I never knew when she was finished talking. “I’m not like you. I grew up spending my days hiking through the mountain lands, wrangling horses, and catching my dinners in the lake. Part of me will always crave that adventure. Riding a tractor can only fulfill me so much.”