Close Enough to Touch. Victoria DahlЧитать онлайн книгу.
“Oh, my God. There are thousands of them.” There were. They formed a wide, tall arch at the corner of a square park. When they turned, she saw that there was another arch on the next corner. And another on the other side of the park. And there was a carriage parked there, the horses shaking their manes in the bright sunlight. It really was amazing that she’d missed them.
“Did you want to stop and look?”
“No, keep going.” The tourist shops slid past her, the tourists already out in their shorts and sunglasses. They passed another carriage rolling along, two small children looking slightly stunned and unsure as the carriage rocked around a turn.
Then suddenly the crowded blocks of hotels and shops were gone. There was a green park, and then…nothing.
Nothing but a huge expanse of rolling meadows and a tumbling stream and flocks of birds rising up into the bright blue sky.
“Wow,” she said. She hadn’t expected this at all. Somehow it was all invisible from inside the town, but now she couldn’t imagine there was a town anywhere nearby.
They drove along the bottom of a ridge for a while, Grace staring hard over the fields that stretched out from there, watching for elk or anything else she might see. Then the ridge fell away and in the distance, the mountains rose up.
“Wow,” she breathed again. “It’s amazing.”
Cole caught her eye and grinned. “You know, this is what most people do the first day. Jackson’s nice and all, but nobody comes here for the small-town charm. It’s the mountains. The parks. The wildlife. The sky.”
The sky, yes. Something so simple as air, and yet it was beautiful. Magical. Stretching for miles of impossible blue before falling behind the mountains.
She wished she had a camera. It was almost an ache inside her, the need to try to capture the beauty of the moment. They had mountains in California, and she’d passed plenty on the bus ride here, but this moment was just…stunning. A perfect contrast to how screwed up and dark and complicated her life was. She felt insignificant, and that was a relief. That whatever mistakes she’d made, all the things she’d managed to mess up were all meaningless and small.
She wanted to capture that, somehow, in a picture, but she’d pawned her camera the week before. And the kind of cell phone that let you buy sixty minutes at a time definitely didn’t come with a camera.
But for the moment, Grace let that desire go and simply took it all in.
“Where do you want to go?” Cole asked, seemingly unmoved by the amazing sight. Then again, he saw it all the time. Maybe that was why he smiled so easily.
She looked around, searching for a place she wanted to get closer to. A sign at the side of the road pointed the way toward the national parks. They were completely surrounded by beauty. How could she possibly choose? What did she want?
“Take me somewhere no one else goes,” she said.
He was quiet for a moment, looking out the window as if he could see something puzzling up ahead. Finally, he nodded. “All right. I can’t promise no one goes there, but I don’t think many tourists get that far off the path.”
She glanced down at her boots. These were sturdy, but she wasn’t sure they were good for hiking.
“Don’t worry. I don’t mean that kind of path.”
“I can handle it.”
“I’m sure you can handle anything.”
She felt a warm rush at his words. He said it as though he admired that. Most guys didn’t. Most guys wanted to feel needed. They resented that she didn’t need them. And she didn’t.
The warm rush dropped away like falling water.
She couldn’t say that anymore, could she? She couldn’t pretend that she didn’t need anybody and never had. But she’d never let anyone else know that. She’d rather die.
So she smiled. “I’m pretty tough. But I’m not sure if the boots are.”
He glanced down to her feet. “They look pretty tough to me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, the appreciation in his tone obvious even before he glanced at her with heat in his eyes.
Wow. Grace cleared her throat. He liked the whole tough-girl thing, huh? Wanted a little edginess in his life, maybe? She told herself she didn’t feel flattered. She wasn’t traveling entertainment for a small-town country boy.
Then again…he wasn’t just a small-town country boy. He was a man who worked with his hands every day. His dimples were sweet, but his hands were scarred and strong. She snuck a look at the steering wheel, at the fingers wrapped around it.
Cole slowed the truck and took a right turn, distracting her from thoughts of his hands. This road cut through a field. She couldn’t tell if it was hay or wild grass or something else, but the wind rippled over the golden stalks, and it looked like an ocean. It was beautiful, and the shushing sound of it filled the truck.
Grace spotted something moving through the grass and choked on excitement. “Is that an elk?” she gasped, pointing.
“That’s a deer.”
“How can you tell the difference?”
Cole looked at her and a smile spread over his face. He chuckled. “They’re totally different animals.”
She slumped a little in her seat and crossed her arms. A strand of purple hair blew into her eyes and she shoved it out of the way. But there was no way to stay mad. Not right now. The world was too beautiful in that moment. She knew it would be crappy again soon enough. She couldn’t waste this, so she turned away from Cole and watched the strange view sliding by her window.
They passed more deer. Probably. How could she be sure when he wouldn’t tell her? Then the land got a little hillier. They were driving higher.
Deer jumped out of some bushes at the side of the road and raced away. But they looked a little…
“Holy shit, what are those things?” Grace yelled, grabbing Cole’s arm.
The brakes screeched for a moment. The truck jerked right and then left again. But Grace was too busy watching the freakish deer to care. They were the ones with the black masks again. The creepy black masks tattooed over their little deer faces.
“What the hell?” Cole snapped.
“Those things! What are they? They’re bouncing! And creepy!”
“Creepy?” He pulled to the side of the rode and shook his head. “Those are pronghorn. And I almost rolled the truck.”
“Pronghorn?” She craned her neck to watch warily as the herd headed away.
“Antelope.”
“Antelope? Like in Africa?”
“No, antelope, like ‘the deer and the antelope play.’ You know? The song about America? Maybe you’ve heard of it.”
“Oh.” The animals had finally bounced out of sight, so Grace gave up her vigil and looked at Cole. “Those are antelope? American antelope? Are you sure? Because they’ve got little masks and pointy black horns and they look like they should be grazing next to giraffes.”
He frowned. His mouth opened. Then closed again. He blinked several times. “You’re really damn weird, you know that?”
“Oh, I’m weird? Have you gotten a good look at those things?”
“Grace… You…” He couldn’t seem to get any words out after that.
She shrugged. “I’m going to do some research. I’m pretty sure those things aren’t native. They’re probably an invasive species.”
“What?”