Kissing Fire by A.M. Hargrove Page B

were that simple. It’s so difficult to explain and I’m not even
sure I can.”
    I felt like I was being dismissed. I leaned back in
my seat and pretended to sleep. It was a long flight because I
pretended the whole way.
    We finally we reached our destination and got off
that plane. If I never saw another plane, it would be too soon for
me. I happened to look up at Preston and he had this look of
solitude on his face.
    “You really like it here, don’t you?”
    “You have no idea. This place puts me in the most
relaxed frame of mind...away from all the ugliness in my day to day
world. Yes, I love it here. I can’t wait for you to see the
cabin.”
    We walked around to the side where there was a
parking lot and I wondered about how we would be getting to his
place when he unlocked a Jeep Wrangler.
    “Do you keep this thing here?”
    “Yeah. She’s always waiting on me,” he answered with
a smile.
    We left the airport and stopped at the grocery store
to stock up on everything. Preston bought tons of everything and I
was glad because I was not one of those girls who lived on a
lettuce leaf and a celery stalk every day. Then we drove for about
an hour. The views were something out of a picture book...snow
capped majestic mountains rising before us with an azure sky as a
backdrop. We passed the Missouri Headwaters State Park and kept
going for about another half hour and then he turned off on a one
lane road. After about five miles we came to a locked gate. He
entered the code and the gate slid open. We went through two more
of those and then we came to a ten foot gate that was a part of a
ten foot wall. It seemed to surround the place. The others had only
been the short three foot kind.
    I commented on this. “Have you set up a fortress
here or something?”
    “Yeah, something like that,” he answered.
    Interesting. I wondered about this as we drove
through that final gate and then we had another half mile to travel
until we came to his ‘cabin.’ His version of a cabin and my version
of a cabin were two different things. His was awesome.
    “Oh Preston. This is beautiful.”
    “You think so?”
    “Oh yeah!”
    Timbers and huge rocks combined with stacked stone
made this place look amazing. I looked around at the views and it
was something you’d dream about. I had once been to the Snake River
Lodge in Jackson Hole, Wyoming as a young adult and that’s what
this reminded me of, but on a much smaller scale. It was totally
breathtaking.
    The afternoon air was crisp and
sweetly scented with the hints of wildflowers that were in bloom
everywhere the eye could see. I spied a narrow trail right off the
gravel driveway, and without even thinking, my feet carried me
toward it. I soon found myself surrounded by those very flowers I
had noticed earlier and as I walked along, the resplendent
mountains rose before me, reclaiming their place in my heart. I had
always been a mountain girl, ever since the first time my family
went to Vail, Colorado on a ski trip. I must’ve been five years old
and I asked my mom if we could take one of the mountains home with
us because Charleston would look so much better if it had one of
its very own. I would beg my parents to take me there every year.
Everyone else in the family wanted a beach vacation, but not me. I
wanted the clean air and knock your socks off views of the
mountains.
    There was a large rock next to that trail so I
plopped my bottom on it and sat there and gazed at all the glory
surrounding me. A sense of peace seeped into my bones, soothing my
ragged emotions. As I took it all in, I rested my hand on my heart,
feeling my pulse calming as the beauty of everything before me
settled into me.
    The air began to turn chilly when I realized that I
must’ve been out there a while. The sky was beginning to turn
bright orange as the sun made its way toward the horizon. Not
really wanting to face reality, but knowing I must, I unwillingly
rose and slowly walked toward the house.