“I’m not being dramatic. You left, Ridge. Without even saying goodbye.”
“And what would have been the point of that?”
My thoughts stumbled over the hurt in my heart but kept fueling my mouth, anyway. Even the sting behind my eyes didn’t stop me. “Maybe it’s not so much the fact that you left so abruptly. Deep down, I think I knew you wouldn’t last on that farm. But—after Harold tried to run me over with his tractor, you acted like I was nothing to you.”
He said nothing after that, just stared at me with his dark eyes while pressing his lips together. His mind was churning, but he allowed me a chance to speak.
“Maybe I meant nothing to you at first, but I’d thought we moved past that. I thought—” I couldn’t say any more, afraid to bring up my feelings for him again.
A moment of silence passed while his dark eyes scanned over me, like he was finally taking me in. Maybe he was noticing how much I had changed too.
“You thought what, Camila?” Ridge asked, his tone gentler. “What do you think would have happened if I had stayed? If we had continued our silly little charade of climbing to that hilltop?”
My pulse raced as I let his question consume me. All the possibilities flooded my mind, and I desperately swam through them, trying to sort out the good from the bad and hold on to one scenario that could have benefited us both. I found none.
When I looked back at him, defeated, he nodded.
“Harold would have dragged you right on over to your papa and told him about all the times he knew of you running through our fields. I omitted the truth from Harold to protect you. That night was the first night I realized what our friendship could do if exposed. This feud between our families, it’s bigger than us.”
I folded my arms across my chest and tried to keep my lip from quivering. “That’s where you and I disagree, Ridge. Nothing is bigger than you and me. Not even a century-old feud. We’re the ones who are supposed to end it. But we can’t do that now, can we? Not with you here.”
For a time, I’d considered Ridge one of my best friends. He had gotten to know a side of me that no one else knew, not even Josie. I’d trusted him with my silly fantasies of life after gaining the keys to my papa’s kingdom. He knew that I trusted him and that our friendship was important to me. And I never pushed him to say more than he felt the need to say. With Ridge, I found stillness—a calm state where my rampant thoughts grew quiet to make room for so much more. I’d never imagined finding that.
Ridge hadn’t just stripped me of a friendship. He’d stripped me of my better self when I was with him. And for that, I couldn’t forgive him.
I took a step back toward my tent and let out a laugh while my insides cried painful tears. “This week should be interesting.” Sarcasm crept back into my voice, and I didn’t even try to stop it. “We can go right back to how it used to be. Pretending we aren’t friends. Only this time, we won’t be pretending.” With another backward step, I smiled. “Good night, Ridge.”
20
Ridge
I still liked to wake up before sunrise, and today was no exception. After peeling my eyes open, I carried my shower bag and a change of clothes to the communal bathhouse, stuck some quarters into the machine, and rinsed myself off. I was used to the routine. A year and a half ago, after packing my bags and driving in a random direction away from Telluride, Ouray had been my first stop. Named after the old Ute Tribe’s chief back in 1876, it seemed like a safe middle ground between the rez and Harold’s Farm. I could get lost without completely losing sight of where I came from.
One of Harold’s clients we dropped hay off to, Jason Lachey, had a plot of flat land he wasn’t sure what to do with. The plot lay beside the livestock ranch he owned with his brother. The guided tours had been my idea, and he ran with it with my help. I quickly got acquainted with the numerous hiking trails around town and partnered with the mine owners and other businesses to cross-promote to tourists. And it all just evolved from there. For the first time ever, I felt like I finally had a purpose in a way that gave back to the community and the surrounding nature on equal footing. Running a corn farm didn’t fulfill me in that way. I couldn’t imagine ever going back to that farm, but I would be lying to myself if I didn’t admit that seeing Camila again altered something in me. I’d felt a shift in my heart, though I’d yet to fully grasp its meaning. All I knew was that I wanted to see her again.
After dressing in a pair of charcoal hiking pants and a light-gray thermal shirt, I slipped on my hiking boots and a red knit cap. When I stepped back outside, the cool air stung a little, but the sun would warm us considerably during our trek up the mountain. The plan was to take twelve campers on a hike on the Blue Lakes trail, starting with the lower Blue Lakes, past the middle lake to Upper Blue Lake, then finally to Blue Lakes Pass—camping in between destinations.
My job that week was to guide the group and help them camp safely in the wilderness. Jason would hang back at base camp, like he preferred, to watch over the other campers who were just there to party.
I stopped by each campsite to tap on the tents and remind everyone that we would be leaving in an hour. When I got to Camila’s tent, I hesitated for a second before climbing the two steps to get to the top of the deck. After sucking in my next breath, I placed my fist on a wood plank above my head. I was about to knock when the tent doors fluttered open, and out walked Camila.
She was a storm, always bringing unpredictable weather with her. A person never knew how to prepare for her presence. I could never get a grasp on it. It seemed not much had changed, even with time and distance between us.
Her hair was a disheveled mess that bounced around her shoulders in loose curls. Her eyes, while still filled with sleep, looked hopeful as she gazed at the new light of day.
She was oblivious to me as she pushed her hands above her head and stretched, revealing an inch of caramel skin around her navel. Even though I’d seen her the night before, nothing prepared me for what daylight revealed. Camila might not have been a little girl anymore, but she was still in high school. I shouldn’t have been looking at her the way I was, noticing her beauty, or the way her pajama pants hung below her soft stomach.
Her boyish shape seemed to have filled out, complete with a deep curve of her hips that accentuated her small waist and perfectly formed backside. She was wearing a thin white tank top that had me averting my eyes the moment I noticed her hard nipples staring back at me. Clearly, she wasn’t wearing a bra, and I cursed myself for noticing.
I didn’t normally think so vulgarly about a woman. I’d seen all shapes and sizes come through the base camp, and I appreciated them all just fine. But no one could light a candle to Camila. She’d always been strong and feisty, keeping up with the boys just as well as any. But now… I swallowed back my thoughts, which were so carelessly rolling through my mind like an approaching storm.
Feeling suddenly stalkerish, I cleared my throat to let her know I was there.
Her lids widened as she snapped her head around. Our eyes met, and I was instantaneously transported back in time, to a place I swore I would never go again. I was right back in that cornfield, swimming in a sea of green and specks of gold. Memories of chasing her through tall stalks of our future harvest overwhelmed me like a flash flood, drowning me before I even had a chance.