"Do you know how your parents died?"
"It was a car accident. That's all I know."
Calder had his bottom lip between his teeth again in that way he had when he was thinking hard about something.
"What?" I asked.
He let his lip free, licking along it with his tongue before responding. "Nothing. I'm just sorry you lost your parents is all."
I had the feeling he had been about to say something else, but didn’t. I nodded anyway and said, "Thank you."
"So," he said, starting to get up. "Tomorrow? Same time? Same place?"
I stood, too, and nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. Um," I nodded toward the pad in his hands, "can I see your sketch?"
He looked down at it. "Oh. Yeah, sure." He turned it around and my breath caught.
He had sketched our—for suddenly that's what it was, ours—spring. He had only used charcoal pencil, but somehow it was lush and beautiful, the shadows and highlights hinting at the depth of color in the water, the rocks, the grass, and the sky. It was . . . breathtaking.
"Calder. You're . . . I've never seen anything that good. You've never had any lessons?"
He shook his head, watching me closely as if it mattered very much to him what I thought.
"You're just gifted, then. Very, very gifted." I felt awed by his talent and I was sure it must show in my expression.
He held it out to me. "It's for you."
I grinned, accepting it. "Thank you. Today, here with you, was a wonderful birthday gift." I began to carefully roll up the sketch so that I could carry it with me.
His expression took on surprise. "It's your birthday?"
I shook my head. "Tomorrow. I'll be seventeen. But this here," I hugged the rolled paper to my chest delicately, "is the best gift I could have ever asked for."
"No. No way. If I had known it was your birthday, I would have sketched one of you. A portrait." He smiled. "Tomorrow. On your actual day."
I smiled back. "Okay." I held up the canvas bag with all the supplies in it. "Should we hide this somewhere?"
Calder looked around and then took the bag from me and walked it over to a group of rocks to his right, placing it between two rocks sitting at an angle so it was like a mini-cave. He picked up a rock next to him and put it directly in front of the opening so it couldn't be seen.
We walked up the trail and when we got close to the top, he stopped and nodded at me to go before him so we wouldn't exit together.
When I got back to the main lodge, I walked quietly upstairs and unrolled the sketch of our spring, looking at it for several long minutes before rolling it back up again. I hid it in the far corner under my bed, and I stowed my time with Calder in a quiet, private corner of my heart.
I hadn’t been completely certain Calder would return today, whether he would decide it was too risky, or if he would decide he wasn't interested. And yet he had. His patience was unending as he taught me basic math. I hadn’t felt stupid, or ashamed as I started to grasp what must seem like such elemental things to him. It felt good to learn, to stretch my mind further than its normal boundaries. And as I went to bed that night, my heart felt full.
CHAPTER SIX
Calder
While I waited for the birthday girl, I looked around for the perfect portrait location, finally deciding on a large rock just to the left of the spring. It was lightly sun-dappled, mostly shaded by larger rocks. It would be perfect for her to lie back on while I sketched her.
I pictured Eden reclining there, her dress outlining her slim shape, her shirt molded to her small, round br**sts, and my blood heated.
Don't, Calder. Don't even think about it.
No, thoughts like that about Eden were a very bad idea. She was off limits in the biggest way possible, and I needed to remember that. It would have been for the best if I had ended our exchange and never looked her way again. But the desire to be close to her was too hard to resist. I could be punished severely, but maybe it would be worth it. I struggled to think pure thoughts around her, but her beauty . . . Stop, Calder. Don't think about sex when she's about to arrive.
I picked up the small bouquet of flowers I had brought for her and placed them on the rock, thinking of that day so long ago when she had bravely marched out onto our game field with hope in her eyes.
Morning glory. As pretty as a flower, as strong as a weed.
I had loved our game through the years. To me it was an adventure, a secret. I had even used some morning glory seeds to plant a small bush at the edge of the field where I worked. It had been true what I said about morning glories being stronger than they looked. That bush worked to take over, but I kept it small and contained, just big enough to easily provide me with the blue flowers I left for Eden as regularly as possible.
"Hi," I heard behind me and smiled before I had fully turned around.
"Happy birthday," I said, walking over to her and taking her hand as she smiled and followed me.
"My portrait?" she asked. "I'm a little nervous. One of Mother Hailey's boys drew me last week and I looked like a squash with eyes." She laughed.
"I'd like to think my skills surpass his." I winked.
"Oh, yours definitely do. What I'm more worried about is I actually do look like a squash and your skilled portrait will confirm it."
I laughed as I placed both hands on her shoulders and turned her so she was leaning back against the rock. "You? A squash?" She laid back so I was now over her. I walked closer and moved her hair the way I wanted it. Our eyes locked and suddenly we both went serious. "Not even close," I whispered.