“You were going to ask me how I found you,” Sarah prompted, with a forced smile and still-heavy breathing. She stopped, turned, and looked down at the scenery before them. “Nice view.” Her breathing slowed somewhat, and her hands came to rest on her hips. “The closer they get to you down there, the closer you want to scrape the sky.” She looked about the Flatirons flanking them. “Am I wrong?”

“I won’t argue.”

Sarah pretended not to be perturbed by that vague response, and sat herself down atop another boulder. “So you moved out of your place.”

“The media was starting a feeding frenzy,” Ingram observed with a calm, outward look beyond the Plains, as if the feeding frenzy had ended.

“I just drove up from Texas,” Sarah observed.

“Looking for my Rosebud?”

“Was that her name?”

Man and woman shared a smile, a smile unseen as each was looking at the Plains before them.

Sarah looked up at the sky. “Perfect morning.”

“Sometimes you feel like you can touch that sky here.”

Sarah raised the hand which did not hold her water, and held one palm in the rose-colored morning light. “But can’t you?”

Ingram sighed. “Never, not really.”