Chapter 10 - The Horizon
The sun went down behind the Blue Ridge in a slow explosion of amber and violet, painting the valley below in shades of deep, quiet gold.
Adrian sat on the edge of the porch steps, a mug of black coffee cooling in his hand, watching Nora walk slowly across the newly turned earth of the garden with little Evelyn resting against her shoulder in a woven sling.
The wind carried the smell of damp soil and blooming clover from the valley.
Nora walked up the wooden steps, her steps light and steady, and sat down on the bench beside him, leaning her head against his shoulder with a sigh of absolute, profound peace.
"What are you thinking about, Captain?" she asked softly, her fingers tracing the calloused knuckles of his right hand.
Adrian looked out past the garden, past the line of young apple trees they had planted together that spring, all the way to where the road met the distant horizon under a sky full of emerging stars.
"I was thinking," he said, pulling her closer against his side while their daughter slept soundly between them, "that for the first time in my life, I don't need a map to know where I am."
May you like
Nora smiled, pressing her cheek against his shoulder as the evening crickets began their steady, rhythmic song in the grass.
"Good," she whispered, closing her eyes against the mountain wind. "Because we're not going anywhere."
