Page 25 of Texas Kissing
“Internet stuff,” she said. “You wouldn’t understand.”
I was riding behind her, so she couldn’t see my expression. I made the most of it. “Guess you’re right,” I said sadly.
I saw her catch herself and look around. I just had time to adopt a tough-but-pained look, staring off at the horizon like I’d been told my dog was going to die.
“Shit,” she said. “Sorry. I didn’t mean—”
I shook my head. “Nah, you’re right. No point me asking what I’m not going to understand anyway. I guess I must seem pretty dumb.”
“No! Not at all!” She looked horrified. It was difficult to keep my face straight.
“Truth is,” I said, “I don’t really get computers. Like, I’m not sure how you people fit all that information about everything in the world in one itty bitty box.”
She gave me a pitying look. “Well, it’s notinthe box, it’s the internet, it’s—” She frowned. “Wait a minute. You’re on fucking Facebook!”
I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I threw my head back and roared with laughter. Lily’s mouth was hanging open, which only made it funnier. “You must think country folk are dumb as hell!”
She gave me a death-ray glare. “Not all of them,” she muttered. “Just you.”
“It’s not in the box...it’s the internet,”I mimicked, and collapsed into laughter again. And this time, finally, she managed to relax enough to smile at herself.
“Okay,” she said at last. “Yes, okay. I’m sorry. I’mjust not used to talking to locals, yet.”
“Yet?How long have you been in Gold Lake again?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “Two years.”
I was desperate to find out why. Why did she live all by herself? Why had she never been to Lucky Pete’s until that week? But I didn’t want to push her too hard. So I just said, “So whatdoyou do?”
She took a deep breath. “I write documentation about web server interfaces.”
It was completely unremarkable. Boring, even. Exactly the sort of thing you’d say if you didn’t want someone to dig any deeper. And she’d said it as if she’d said it a thousand times before, which didn’t make sense given how few people she seemed to know. Almost as if she’d rehearsed it in the mirror.
We rode on into the desert, out where there’s nothing but sky, rock and sand. “Are we heading anywhere in particular?” she asked at last.
“Should we be?”
“I thought there’d be a destination. Like, some hill or the world’s oldest tree or something.”
I studied her.Interesting.
“What?” she demanded.
“You always gotta be heading somewhere,” I said. “Always doing something. Achieving something. Don’t you ever just...relax?”
“Oh, I should be more like you?”
I grinned.
“I do just fine, thank you,” she said. “I canrelax.”She managed to stay quiet for all of five seconds. “So wherearewe heading?”
I couldn’t stop myself grinning. God, I liked this girl. I tugged on the reins and Apollo came to a halt. “We’re here,” I said.
She looked around blankly.
“Trust me,” I said. “Best show in town.”
And then I just sat there and watched as the sun started to sink slowly behind the mountains, our shadows drawing out into long tails behind us, the light turning from yellow to gold to red. Distracted by the sunset, Lily finally started to relax in the saddle. She gazed up at the sky, spellbound, as the clouds were lit up from behind in shades of pink and orange and scarlet that no postcard can do justice to. Soon, it looked as if the whole sky was on fire.