Eternal (Eternal series) (26 page)

She'd come to this place hoping the fresh mountain air would help clear her head, but it wasn’t working.  Emma dropped her quilt in a wad on the ground and slid down the smooth trunk of a thick white quaking aspen tree until she was sitting at its base.  She wrapped her arms around her knees and pulled them tightly into her chest. 

What was she going to say to Destry?  She just couldn’t hurt him.  He was too important to her, even though she knew he couldn’t be.

Emma didn’t know how to erase him out of her life.  It shouldn’t have to be that way, but that's how it had to be.  It wouldn’t be fair to Destry to keep him hanging on in the wings while she juggled with the idea of who she wanted. 

The loud, vibrating chatter of a chipmunk somewhere further up the hill finally brought Emma out of her sulking state.  She looked around, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

How long had she been sitting here?  She was no closer to working up her speech and Destry would be around to pick her up in a few hours.

“Hopeless…hopeless…hopeless,” she mumbled to herself.

She would just have to explain to Destry that there was already someone else in her life that she couldn’t live without.  Truth was still the best policy.  He’d be upset of course, but he’d understand, right? 

Emma barely noticed the sound of the approaching vehicle as she sat, drowning in her thoughts.  But as the roar of the engine came closer, a shiver ran down her spine.  There was no mistaking the sound of that engine.  It belonged to Destry’s insanely loud step-side.

“
Crap,” Emma hissed under her breath without turning to look at the approaching truck.  What were the odds that
he
would just happen to be driving by on this road at the exact time that she was sitting here, alone, like an idiot?  Emma hoped he would just keep driving and not notice her, but of course she wasn’t that lucky.

The truck slowed and pulled off the road next to her car.  Shoot!  She had forgotten that Destry would recognize her car.  She heard his truck door open and close and footsteps coming up behind her.  Emma was still too stunned to turn around.

“Emma?” It was half statement, half question.

Emma turned slowly toward the sound of his voice and tried her best to paste a genuine looking smile onto her shocked face.

“Hey Destry, what are you doing here?”  Yeah, that was smooth; acting like Destry was the weird one for being here. 

He looked great, all rugged and handsome, fitting perfectly into the mountain setting like a model in an outdoor catalog.

“I didn't have to work at the mill today, so I was going to do a little fishing before our date tonight. I saw your car, and figured since you’re already up here, maybe you’d want to come?”

“
I don’t think so,” Emma half snorted at the ridiculous idea of
her
fishing.

"What?  You don't like fishing?"  Destry asked, appalled by the idea. 

Emma just shrugged her shoulders and looked down at her feet, running her fingers through some grass. 

"Don't tell me you've never fished before?” He said with an incredulous look, raising an eyebrow at Emma when she didn't answer.  “You mean to tell me you live here, surrounded by all of this,” he fanned his arm out, motioning towards the hillside, and surrounding mountains, “with all these rivers and lakes, not to mention the reservoir right out your back door, and you’ve never been fishing?  Ever?”

“I don’t know how,” Emma snapped back at him in her own defense.

“
Well then, I think it’s high time you learned,” Destry smirked as a wide grin spread across his face. "And I'm just the guy to teach you."

Emma had absolutely no interest in learning how to fish, but Destry's warm smile was nearly impossible to resist.  He held his hand out to her. 

After a brief moment of hesitation and an inner scolding for putting herself in this situation to begin with, Emma reached up and placed her hand reluctantly into his.

Destry pulled her up off of the ground easily, catching hold of her around the waist with his other hand so she wouldn't topple over frontward.  Emma couldn't help but blush unwillingly at his closeness.  She quickly pulled away from his helpful grasp, brushing the dried grass off her pants.

“Come on,” he smiled, “we’ll go in my truck.  There’s a great spot not too far up the road.” 

Without missing a beat, he reached down and scooped up Emma's quilt in one hand, and pulled her along with the other towards his truck. 

He opened the driver’s side door and shoved the quilt over as far as it would go, successfully filling the passenger side of the bench seat. 

He motioned for Emma to climb in. She knew immediately his motive for placing the quilt on the far side; it put her right next to him in the middle.

She gave him a courteous half smile, and scooted in, past the stick shift, which thankfully, created somewhat of a small barrier between them; something was better than nothing. 

Destry climbed in after her and shut the door.  He shifted into first gear, and let the clutch out extra slow, exaggerating the movement.

“What are you doing?” Emma asked.  This slow pace wasn’t like him.

“
I’m being good,” Destry grinned. “I remembered you get pretty angry when you almost eat the dashboard, so I’m being extra careful to keep you in your seat this time.”

“
Oh,” Emma mumbled, embarrassed, “thanks for remembering.  I guess you’re not in the mood for a butt whoopin’ today then huh?” She teased, hoping to keep the mood light.

“
Nope, not today,” he grinned again, his smile lighting up his eyes.

The ride up the mountain was uncomfortable to say the least.  There were a lot of deep ruts and washboards carved into the road from the winter months. 

Emma found herself slammed up against Destry most of the time.  She even had to grab his leg once to keep herself upright; she quickly released it though and blushed some more.  This shouldn't be so hard; they'd practically been glued together on the four-wheeler yesterday.

“
Sorry, it’s a little bumpy,” Destry admitted, but from the smirk on his face Emma didn’t believe that he was sorry the least little bit.

He turned off the main road onto a small set of dirt tracks that looked like they were made for a four-wheeler rather than a full sized truck.  They followed them for a few yards, coming to a stop at the edge of a thick stand of trees.

“I don’t see any water,” Emma said, feeling slightly panicked.

“
We have to walk a little ways,” he laughed, “the pond is just through the trees over there and down the hill a bit.”  He pointed in the direction of the unseen pond.

“
We have to go down a hill?”  Emma was nervous now.  She found no joy whatsoever in walking down hills scattered with rocks and tree branches and brush, especially when someone was watching.  She didn’t think tripping and rolling down head first would be very attractive.

“
I won’t let you fall Emma. I promise,” Destry said, seeming to know the reason for her apprehension.  He climbed out of the truck and gave her such a warm, sincere look, that Emma's fears almost disappeared.  She finally slid out of the truck, planting her feet onto the rich mountain soil.

Emma followed Destry slowly to the back end of the truck where he grabbed a fishing pole and a tackle box from the bed. 

“Let’s go,” he prodded gently, and Emma hesitantly followed behind him down the tiny dirt trail that wound through the trees like a snake through the grass.

"So how did you do on your test today?" Destry asked with real curiosity. 

"We won't get our score back until Friday, but I think I did okay," she replied.

"I bet you did great after all that studying."

"I hope so."  Emma wasn't able to carry on much of a conversation because she was focused on her feet, trying not to trip while swatting leafy branches out of her face.

They soon reached the part of the trail that began to slowly descend downward to the still-invisible pond.  Destry stopped, rearranged the pole and tackle box into one hand, and reached the other hand out to Emma.  She gave him a worried look, but reached out and grabbed his hand, ignoring the tingling feeling that passed between them. 

He seemed as agile as a mountain goat as he picked his way down the hill, slowly stepping over protruding tree roots, and raising her hand up high to gently guide her over the rocks that cluttered the mountainside.

After what seemed like forever, the trees opened up and revealed the small pond that was their destination.

Emma had to admit, it was beautiful.  It was almost perfectly round and the water that filled it was a deep teal blue color from the moss that floated just below the surface.  A ring of dark mountain soil surrounded the perimeter with dozens of smooth blue-gray boulders strewn about creating hiding places for the delicate wildflowers that peeked out from behind them.

“
I had no idea that there was anything like this up here,” Emma whispered, still in awe at the tiny paradise they were standing in.

“
You’ve probably never looked,” Destry stated nonchalantly.  “Sometimes the best things are hidden. You have to really look for them.  That’s part of what makes them special; not just anyone can see them.”

Emma got the feeling that he wasn’t just talking about the pond anymore.  She could see him from the corner of her eye, staring at her intently, willing her to look at him.  She kept her eyes glued to the pond and waited for him to look away.

“I guess you’re right,” she said quickly, hoping to break the tension that flowed thickly through the air.  “I think the reason I don’t go looking for secret fishing holes though, is because
I don’t fish
,” Emma snickered.

Destry laughed and the tension evaporated.  He gave her one of his crooked smiles, and she couldn't stop herself from smiling back.

“Then we better get started turning you into a fisherman, or fisher-woman if you prefer to be politically correct,” he said confidently.  Destry headed toward a large flat boulder that was half in the water and half on the shore.  “Here’s your seat, My Lady,” he spoke regally and motioned to the rock.

Emma smiled warmly and gave him a curtsy before sitting down.  That made him chuckle again.  Emma loved the sound of it.  His easy laugh and warm smile was contagious, she couldn’t help but be genuinely happy right along with him.

Destry crouched down next to Emma and opened his tackle box, displaying the strange contents.  She had no idea what most of them were used for.  The only things she recognized were the hooks, and the worms that were in a small round Styrofoam container of peat moss.

“
Okay,” Destry began, “to rig up a pole, you need a few basic things.  First, you need to make sure you have plenty of line on your reel, and if it’s very old you have to replace it or it will break.  That really sucks when you’re reelin’ in a big one and the line breaks,” he eyed Emma to see if she was paying attention to his lesson, she nodded. 

“
Next, you need a leader line,” he said holding up a thin piece of line that was about two feet long with a hook attached to one end.  “It needs a loop on one end, and then a hook on the other,” he explained.  “Now, you have to wrap the end of the line around itself a few times like this and take it through the loop and pull it tight.  The loop you just made then attaches to the swivel on the end of your line coming off the pole, like this,” Destry demonstrated what he meant.  "The swivel spins so your line doesn't get all twisted up."

“
Now, if you want a bubble, it needs to go above the swivel.  If you want your bait to float then you leave the bubble empty, but if you want it to sink a little, like with floating bait, you fill the bubble with water.  We want ours to float, cuz’ the worm we’re using will sink a bit on its own, and that way, when a fish bites we‘ll be able to see the bubble bouncing,” he smiled at Emma and she nodded again.

“
Now this hook that we have on the end of the leader line is a worm hook,” he said, holding the J-shaped hook in the palm of his hand.  “This one here is a hook for power bait and cheese,” the hook he was pointing to had three mini hooks sticking out of it like a tiny chandelier.  Emma nodded again, and Destry seemed pleased at being able to teach her something he apparently knew a lot about.

“
Okay, now we are ready for the bait,” he grinned, “so reach in there and pick out a worm.”  Emma didn’t want Destry to think she was a girly girl, so she reached deftly into the container and pulled out the first slimy thing that her fingers encountered and held it out to him. 

“
You’ve got to put it on the hook,” he chuckled, and Emma gulped.  Handing him a worm was one thing, but stabbing a hook through the poor defenseless thing was another, even if it was just a disgusting worm.  Emma shook her head back and forth with her eyebrows furrowed deeply together. 

“
Come on,” he prodded, “it’s not that bad, it’s just a worm.”

“
I can’t just stab it!” she demanded, “won't that hurt it?”

“
Worms don’t have feelings, silly,” Destry chuckled, “just take it and stick the hook through the middle of it.”