The Longest Ride

wrestling – in addition to the rodeo stuff – in both his junior and senior years. No wonder Brian hadn’t intimidated him.

Through it all, Sophia watched and listened, Marcia’s warnings becoming fainter with every passing minute. Having dinner with Linda and Luke was easy. They listened and talked in the same informal, spirited way her own family did – entirely different from the socially self-conscious interactions at Wake.

When they’d finished their meal, Linda served the pie she’d baked, which was just about the best thing Sophia had ever tasted. Afterward, the three of them cleaned up the kitchen, Luke washing the dishes while Sophia dried and Linda wrapped the extra food and put it away.

The pattern was so comfortingly similar to what went on back home, making Sophia think about her own family, and for the first time she wondered what her parents would think of Luke.
     

     
    On the way out the door, Sophia hugged Linda, as did Luke, Sophia noticing again the muscle definition on her arms as she squeezed. When she pulled back, Linda winked. “I know you two are going to go visit, but just remember that Sophia’s got school tomorrow. You don’t want her up too late. And you yourself have an early day.”

“I always have an early day.”

“You slept in this morning, remember?” Then she turned to Sophia. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Sophia. Come by again soon, okay?”

“I will,” Sophia promised.

As Luke and Sophia walked into the cold night air, the fog, even thicker now, had given the landscape a dreamlike quality. Sophia’s breaths came out in little puffs, and she looped her arm through Luke’s as they made their way to his house.

“I like your mom,” she said. “And she wasn’t at all like I imagined, based on how you described her.”

“What did you imagine?”

“I thought I’d be afraid of her, I guess. Or that she wouldn’t show any emotion at all. I don’t meet many people who ignore a broken wrist all day.”

“She was on her best behavior,” Luke explained. “Trust me. She’s not always like that.”

“Like when she’s angry with you.”

“Like when she’s angry with me,” he agreed. “And other times, too. If you watch her dealing with suppliers or when the cattle go to market or whatever, she can be pretty ruthless.”

“So you say. I think she’s sweet and smart and funny.”

“I’m glad. She liked you, too. I could tell.”

“Yeah? How?”

“She didn’t make you cry.”

She nudged him. “You be nice to your mom or I’ll turn right around and tell her what you’re saying about her.”

“I am nice to my mom.”

“Not always,” she said, half-teasing, half-prodding. “Otherwise, she wouldn’t have been mad at you.”
     

     
    When they arrived at his house, he invited her inside for the first time. He went first to the fireplace in the living room, where split wood and kindling were already stacked on the grate. After taking a pack of matches from the mantel, he squatted down to light the kindling.

While he worked on getting the fire going, Sophia’s gaze wandered from the living room to the kitchen, taking in her eclectic surroundings. Low-slung brown leather couches with modern lines were coupled with a rustic coffee table on a cow-skin rug. Mismatched end tables supported matching wrought-iron lamps. Above the fireplace, an antlered buck’s head poked out from the wall. The room was functional and unpretentious, devoid of trophies or awards or laminated articles. Though she spotted a few photos of Luke riding bulls, they were sandwiched between more traditional photos: one of his mom and dad on what she guessed was an anniversary; another photo of a younger Luke and his father holding a fish they’d caught; a photo of his mom and one of the horses, his mom smiling into the camera.

Off to the side, the kitchen was harder to read. Like his mom’s, it featured a table in the center of the room, but the maple cabinets and counters showed little wear. In the opposite direction, the short hallway off the living room led to a bathroom and what she suspected were the bedrooms.

With the fire beginning to blaze, Luke stood and brushed his hands against his jeans.

“How’s that?”

She walked toward the fireplace. “It feels toasty.”

They stood in front of the fire, letting it warm them, before finally moving to the couch. Sitting next to Luke, she could feel him watching her. “Can I ask you a question?”