Free Midnight Kiss by Robyn Carr, Victoria Dahl, Jean Brashear

“Sunny, I can’t talk and carry you—this top-of-the-line camera is heavy. Here’s what you can do—tell me stories. Any stories you want—chick stories about shopping and buying six-hundred-dollar boots, or photographer stories, or scary stories. And when we get to the cabin, you can ask me anything you want.”
    “I’m too heavy,” she said for the umpteenth time.
    “I’m doing fine, but I can’t carry on much of a conversation. Why don’t you entertain us by talking, I’ll walk and listen.” And he presented his back again so she could climb on.
    She decided to tell him all about her family; howher mother, two aunts and Uncle Nate had grown up in these mountains; and how later, when Grandpa had retired and left the veterinary practice to Uncle Nate, they all went back for visits. Grandma and Grandpa lived in Arizona as did Patricia and her two sons. Auntie Chris lived in Nevada with their two sons and one daughter and Sunny, an only child, lived in Southern California.
    “Am I heavier when I talk?” she asked him.
    “No,” he said, stopping for a moment. “You make the walk shorter.”
    So she kept going. She talked about the family gatherings at the Jensen stables, about how she grew up on a horse like her mom and aunts had. But while her only female cousin and best friend since birth, Mary, had ridden competitively, Sunny was taking pictures. She spoke about fun times and pranks with her cousins.
    She told him how Nate and Annie had met over an abandoned litter of puppies and would be married in the spring. “I’ll be a bridesmaid. It will be my third time as a bridesmaid and a lot of my girlfriends are getting married. I’ve never before in my life known a single woman who was left at the altar. I keep wondering what I did wrong. I mean, Glen worked out like a madman and he wanted me to work out too, but you can’t imagine the exercise involved in carrying a twenty pound camera bag, running, stooping, crouching, lifting that heavy camera for literally hours. I just couldn’t get excited about lifting weights on top of that. He said I should think about implants. I hate surgical procedures of any kind. Oh, sure, I’ve always wanted boobs, but not that bad. And yes, I’m short and my butt’s too big and my nose is pointy…. He used to saywide hips are good for sex and nothing else. That felt nice, hearing that,” she said facetiously. “I tried to take comfort in the sex part—maybe that meant I was all right in the sack, huh? And I’m bossy, I know I’m bossy sometimes. I liked to think I’m efficient and capable, but Glen thought it was controlling and he said it pissed him off to be controlled by a woman. There you have it—the recipe for getting left at the altar.”
    Then she stopped talking for a while. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet and his tread actually slowed. “I’d like you to know something. When we first met and I was so snotty and rude, I never used to be like that. Really. I always concentrated on being nice. That’s how I built my business—I was nice, on time, and worked hard—that’s what I attribute most of my success to. Seriously. That whole thing with Glen…. Well, it changed me. I apologize.”
    “No apology necessary,” he said breathlessly. “I understand.”
    Then she was embarrassed by all her talking, talking about boobs and hips and sex to a total stranger. Blessedly, he didn’t make any further comment. It wasn’t long before she could see a structure and some lights up ahead. He trudged on, breathing hard, and finally put her down on the porch that spanned the front of a small cabin.
    She looked up at him. “It’s amazing that you would do that. I would have left me in the car.”
    He gave her a little smile. “Well, you wanted to see the cabin. And now you will. We’ll call Jack’s, let everyone know what happened, that we’re all right, and I’ll light the fire, so we can warm up. Then I have a few things to tell