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All Chapters of Travel, Love, and Let go: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

27 Chapters

Before the Heat Sets In

A few days later, Gracie sits beneath a cypress tree at the river park. The warm early October air of South Texas wraps around her like a gentle hug, carrying faint scents of barbeque, dirt, and grass—the smell of nature mingling with a western-themed town. The murky green river shimmers in a shade somewhere between moss and jade, its warning signs cautioning that the water is toxic and unsafe for swimming. Tall trees and a single hill frame the sickly green trail, while ducks splash and paddle along its surface, oblivious to the water's reputation. Gracie savors the peace of this natural space, her book open in her lap, her mind wandering with each page. She doesn't notice Paxton approaching until dirt and leaves crunch beneath his boots, breaking the stillness. "Howdy, ma'am, may I join you?" he asks, standing a respectful distance away. Gracie looks up, startled from her reverie, to find Paxton dressed in a green and blue plaid western shirt with sleeves rolled to the forearm,

Country Dancing and a New Fella

Her phone chimes, pulling her from her thoughts. She glances at the glowing screen: Thursday, seven fourteen p.m. Some of the girls want to go country dancing in San Antonio. A flicker of excitement rises in her chest, and she responds without hesitation. "Yes, let's go!" A few hours later, Gracie and an entourage of women meet at the country dancehall, the night already buzzing with energy. Gracie feels a flutter of anticipation as she steps through the doors, the thrum of bass vibrating through the floorboards and up into her chest. A live band plays loudly, and people shout just to hear one another over the music. The seating and standing areas are dim, the carpeted walkways swallowing the light, while the bars glow brightly, beacons drawing thirsty patrons like moths. Beer stations scatter throughout the dancehall, each one manned by bartenders moving with practiced speed, snapping open bottles and sliding them across sticky counters. Cocktail servers weave through the crowd carr

Volunteering

Friday morning arrives, and Gracie’s alarm buzzes at seven, jolting her from a heavy sleep. She checks her phone and remembers she signed up to volunteer for the food drive. A few notifications from the dating site catch her eye. Peter has written, "I enjoyed dancing with you last night, we should do it again." Gracie smiles faintly at the message before setting her phone aside. The cabin air is cool; her bare feet scrape the wooden floor as she navigates to the front door. She reaches for the chrome knob, a cold sensation reaches her hand as she turns it. She pulls the door open, Gunner lowers his bottom to the floor, his ears perk up, he looks at Gracie, waiting for her command. Her voice cracks, “go outside Gunner.” He leaps out for a few morning struts. She shivers at the cool morning air, her orange tank top and thin pajamas printed with pumpkins, fail to warm her. Gunner seems to grin at the simple joy of exploring outside, sniffing along the porch railing, while Gracie watches

Close Moments

"Hey, Gracie!" His voice rumbling in Texas Twang. She stops and turns around. He reaches her in a warm, familiar hug that lingers."So, about tomorrow—Delilah is in heat, so she cannot go to the dog park," Paxton explains, his chocolate and forest green eyes searching hers. "We can take Gunner instead, or do something else if you would like.""Okay, I will think on it." Gracie tilts her head thoughtfully, turning the idea over in her mind. "Do you want her to have puppies? Gunner is purebred, registered, and has had health testing done."Paxton pauses, considering, his brow furrowing slightly as he weighs the responsibility. "Hmm, that is going to be a lot of work," he says before asking. "Can you help when the puppies are born?"Gracie's face lights up with excitement, her earlier nerves forgotten entirely. "Oh my gosh, that will be so fun!" she exclaims, clasping her hands together. "Absolutely!"Paxton chuckles at her enthusiasm, the sound low and warm. "So, what are your plans for

Interrupted Stillness

That afternoon, Gracie visits her parents' house in Helotes. With the pandemic keeping most people home, her parents now work remotely from the comfort of their living room. Her mother, Cheyenne Mabel—whom Gracie resembles almost identically—has prepared lunch for the three of them. The smell of roasted vegetables and fresh bread filling the kitchen. Her father, Atticus, looks up from his laptop with a warm smile as she walks in."Your sister is not going to make it. The kids are sick," Cheyenne says, disappointment flickering across her face."Oh, okay," Gracie replies casually, though she feels a small pang of longing to see her nieces and nephews.Her parents return to their work shortly after lunch, leaving Gracie to wander into her old bedroom. She smiles at the familiar sight—her parents have not redecorated in years. The same faded curtains and childhood posters still clinging to the walls. She has been coming and going for years now, chasing experiences across the world, re

Bring On The Day

Gracie awakens to Gunner curled in her arms, his body a warm anchor beside her. She holds him there a little longer, gazing into his whiskey eyes, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing against her own. She rubs his chest before rising, savoring these quiet moments before the day demands her attention. She breathes in the autumn fragrance at her bedside, pumpkin and cinnamon, a wax melter, emitting the aroma into the room. She glances around, taking stock of her surroundings with the unhurried curiosity of someone who has nowhere urgent to be. "Gunner, it smells like autumn but doesn't look like it. It's the beginning of October here in the South Texas hill country. We should decorate, make it look more festive. What do you think, buddy?" Gunner tilts his head and releases a whine, his ears perking as though he understands every word. "Okay, we will go outside." Gracie says. Gracie slips her tanned bare feet into her flip flops, an aching settling in for a moment, unbidden and

Hills and Handlebars

Paxton arrives at Gracie's front porch, his water shoes, make a quiet entrance on the wood slats. Gracie opens the door, to her surprise; a bouquet of wildflowers in hand, their colors bright against the greenery of the hilly landscape. "Howdy, ma'am, these are for you," he says, his voice warm with affection. Gracie breathes them in, her eyes lighting up with joy as she takes the flowers from him, their stems still cool from the morning air. "Thank you, come on in. Breakfast is just about ready," she says, stepping aside to let him through the doorway. Gracie walks over to the kitchen, finishes preparing breakfast, and sets the table, arranging the flowers in a small vase at its center, where they catch the morning light streaming through the window. Gracie and Paxton sit at the white rustic table made of weathered wood, the morning light slanting gently across its surface. Gunner has stationed himself on the floor by the table, watching his owner and her new friend with q

Adrenaline and Relief

A deafening crash splits the air as two boats collide, water spraying skyward in a violent arc. Paxton's heart slams against his ribs. He races the jet ski toward the wreckage, dread coiling tight in his gut as a dozen horrible possibilities flash through his mind. He approaches the boats. “Are y’all ok?” he shouts. Some nod, one of the drivers yells back, “Yea, thanks for checking on us!” Relief crashes over him: the passengers are fine, shaken but unharmed. Paxton places his hand in the air, “Alright, y’all take care!” before circling back. He cranes his neck, checking once more at the boats, then shrugs off his concern, forcing his mind to settle. A breath, unaware he’s holding escapes him. His shoulders relax by degrees, the tension draining from his neck and jaw. Still, the adrenaline lingers, buzzing beneath his skin even as the danger passes. His hands tremble slightly, he flexes his fingers to still them. It's over now, that there's nothing left to fear. A cold knot remai

Celebrate Autumn

She makes her way inside her rental cabin to find Gunner shifting into high alert in his crate, his ears perking at her arrival. He adjusts his weight, his tail thumping wildly against the crate walls, before rising onto all fours. A whine escapes him, eager and insistent, filling her ears as he begs to be let out. Gracie quickly frees him, and he waits by the door, patient but trembling with excitement, before darting outside the moment she opens it. She gives him a few minutes to explore the yard, watching his silhouette weave through the grass under the moonlight, before calling him back inside. Once inside, she freshens up, then curls onto the black leather couch with Gunner nestled beside her. Her feet rest on the recliner as she flips through autumn-themed shows, her best furry friend pressed against her side, his steady warmth a comfort. She feels the rise and fall of his ribs with every breath, a quiet rhythm that soothes the last of her nerves. Restful. Peaceful. Exactly wha

Sunshine and Texas Grub

Gracie and Gunner cruise down Highway Sixteen in the light blue jeep, top off, wind rushing freely through the open frame. She takes a left at Highway Forty-Six, savoring the hilly, winding, curving road that seems to unfurl just for her. The scenic view, mostly hills with the occasional house tucked into the folds of the landscape, brings a quiet joy to Gracie’s mind. She has driven this stretch a hundred times before, yet it never fails to loosen something tight in her chest, some knot of worry she carries the rest of the week. Out here, with the engine humming beneath her and nowhere to be, she feels like herself again. The sun shines down on her whilst the wind tostles her hair into loose, dancing curls. She glances in the rearview mirror at her beautiful dog. Gunner sits happily in the backseat, his black, brown, and tan fur ruffling gently with each gust. His harness stays clipped to the seat belt, keeping him safe and secure. Gunner’s deep whiskey-brown eyes find hers the mome

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