“You, too,” she managed to reply. “I mean, good night.”
Lucy watched Justin jog up the gravel trail before she let herself into the cabin. A single white beam of light shone from beneath the bedroom door, bright enough to lead her safely through the dark toward it.
Wendy was sprawled across the bed on her stomach, her feet locked into the scroll of the headboard, her nose buried in a book. She looked up and greeted Lucy with a smile.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Lucy returned, closing the door behind her and crossing to her own bed. “What are you reading?”
Wendy held up the paperback novel and showed Lucy the cover. “I’m a sucker for Christian romance.” Lucy laughed out loud at that. “I’d never have guessed. Me, too.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah, I’m voracious about it.” Producing one of the plastic containers of Matt’s trail mix, Lucy extended it toward Wendy. “Want some? Matt made it.”
“Thanks. Want a diet soda?”
“You have some?”
Wendy’s mouth slanted into a sideways grin, and she produced a can from a plastic bucket next to the bed.
“Betty Sue set me up.”
“Love her,” Lucy said on a giggle as she pulled the ring on the top of the soda can.
A soft knock at the bedroom door caused the conversation to fall silent.
“Can I come in?” Cyndi asked, peering through a small opening in the doorway.
“Sure,” Wendy replied.
“Come on in, Cyn.”
Cyndi padded across the floor, holding her ruffled robe shut with one hand and hanging on to a cup of coffee with the other. She dropped to the bed beside Lucy. Tucking a wisp of her short brown hair behind one ear, she asked, “So what were you girls talking about?”
“Books. Soda. Betty Sue,” Wendy replied. “Trail mix?” Lucy offered.
“Is it Matt’s?”
“Yep.”
“Sure.” Cyndi dipped out a small handful of the mix and folded her legs beneath her. “I love Betty Sue and Dave, don’t you?”
“We were just saying that.”
“They grew up together, you know,” Cyndi told them. “She didn’t realize she was in love with him until he joined the military, so she followed him there. They were stationed together and got married overseas.”
“Are you kidding?” Wendy exclaimed. “That’s a romance novel waiting to happen!”
Lucy chuckled. “One of the couples that visits the Conroy every couple of months is like that. They met on a train from Paris to Nice when they were just out of college, and by the time they reached their destination, they were in love.”
“Hey, you work at the Conroy?” Wendy asked her.
“Lucy’s the head of Guest Services.”
“What a great place,” Wendy replied. “I love that old stairway in the lobby.”
Lucy beamed with the pride, feeling how a mother must feel when someone compliments her child. She looked at Wendy, with her eager, sparkling eyes and her knot of blond spun silk piled on top of her head, and she thoroughly regretted pitting herself against such a sweet and interesting woman.
Suddenly Wendy threw her hand over her mouth and stared, wide-eyed, at Lucy.
“What?”
“Oh, Lucy.”
Cyndi hopped on the bandwagon and gasped. “Oh my goodness.”
Lucy’s insides flopped over once and then again. “What are you two looking at?”
“Did you use the bug spray?”
“No.”
“None?”
“No. None. Why?”
Cyndi and Wendy exchanged glances and then Wendy produced a compact from the bag beside her bed and passed it over to Lucy.
“Have a look.”
Small red dots, maybe a dozen of them, created a speckled pattern around her throat and across her chest.
“What is that?” she asked them, touching the dot under her chin with the tip of her finger.
“Looks like bug bites,” Cyndi said. “Do they itch?”
Lucy scraped one of them with her fingernail and frowned.
“Yes.”
“Uh-oh.”
“Oh boy.”
While holding the mirror, Lucy noticed a few more spots on the back of her hand. Pulling up the sleeve of her sweater, she inspected her forearm and found another dozen or more of them.
“There are so many of them. It looks like the measles,” Cyndi told her. “Why didn’t you use the bug spray?”
“It’s October. I didn’t think I needed any,” Lucy moaned. “Don’t mosquitoes die off when it’s cold?”
“You’re right,” Wendy confirmed. “But we’re in Arkansas, in the woods, and near water. There are bound to be lots of insects still around. Biting midges, for instance.”
“Biting who?”
“Midges. They’re little bugs that, I’m pretty sure, stick around through the fall. They’re also called no-see-ums, because they sneak up on you and you don’t see um.”
Lucy shuddered. “Perfect. A sneak attack. What am I going to do?”
“I’ve got calamine,” Cyndi exclaimed.
“Better get it,” Wendy suggested. “Hey, can you take Benadryl?”
It’s not enough that she’s my primary competition for Justin’s affections? Now I’m kinda falling for her, too.
Wendy and I could be best friends in other circumstances, Lord. How unfair is that?
Please take the red dots away?
Itching…but hopeful,
Lucy
P.S. Next time, maybe You could remind me about the need for insect repellant before the bugs start biting?
Chapter Six
LUCY STOOD BEFORE THE MIRROR GRIMACING AND HOLDING HER ROBE in front of her in a stab at modesty. Her wet curls were twisted upward into a messy nest atop her head.
“Are you sure this isn’t some rare and horrible forest-related disease?”
“It’s not a disease,” Wendy assured her, sponging calamine lotion onto each little red dot on Lucy’s back. “These are bug bites.”
“I still don’t understand why you didn’t use the bug spray last night,” Cyndi declared from behind them. “There was a note on Alison’s activity list. Be sure to use bug spray.”
Standing there, shaking her head that way, Cyndi reminded Lucy of an elementary school substitute teacher she’d once had.
“Why, Lucy?” the teacher had asked in that same I-told-you-so tone. “Why would you paint your art project that shade of chartreuse? Now you’re just going to have to live with it.”
“One thing’s for sure,” Cyndi told her in an obvious yet futile attempt to comfort her. “You’ll know better tonight, right?”
Fortunately, most of the bright crimson blotches were peppered over Lucy’s arms, legs, and torso. Only two of the little buggars had made it to her face, and Wendy assured her that they could cover those with makeup.
One of them, the bolder of the two, sat right in the center of Lucy’s nose. The other protruded from the slope of her jaw line, tipping its hat to her and staking its claim to her face.
“These two look like massive hide-the-women-and-children zits,” she commented, and Wendy tilted her head over Lucy’s shoulder to inspect them in the mirror.
“I told you about eating all that chocolate, young lady,” Wendy teased, dotting the tip of Lucy’s nose with calamine lotion. “One too many s’mores for you last night.”
“Do you really think you can cover them?”
“We’ll cover them, don’t worry. But for now, let’s get dressed,” Wendy said as she replaced the cap on the lotion bottle. “Horseback riding today!”
Oh, yippee.
Lucy thought about confiding the truth to Wendy, telling her that she didn’t know anything more about horses than she had about fish, that she was in it for The Guy and not for the love of the great outdoors. But even in her own mind, the truth came off as shallow and deceitful. She could only imagine how it would s
ound when spoken.
Instead, she smiled and nodded, as though riding a horse was the most exciting activity she could dream up for the day.
“Stop that.”
Lucy arched a brow at Wendy. “Pardon?”
“Don’t scratch them.”
She hadn’t even realized she was doing it. When Wendy turned away to focus on pulling her clothes from the cedar dresser, Lucy snuck in a few more scrapes.
“Lucy.” Wendy hadn’t even turned around.
What, do you have eyes in the back of your head?
“Don’t scratch them.”
“I can’t help it. They itch.”
“Think about something else.”
A very large horse trotted across her mind’s eye, and Lucy fell backward onto the bed with a groan.
As Wendy tucked her foot into the stirrup and mounted a beautiful chestnut quarter horse, she gave Matt a warm smile that reminded him of their conversation the night before. He’d walked her back to her cabin, and they’d stood outside the door for half an hour, chatting. Neither of them seemed to want to say good night, in spite of the frostbite that was setting in.
“What do I do?”
Matt glanced at Lucy and then did a double take. Her hands, her neck, even her face…freckled in red dots.
“What happened to you?”
“Bugs.”
“What do you mean? What bugs?”
“Around the campfire last night.”
“Did you use the repellant?”
Lucy sighed. “I guess I thought I was repelling enough all on my own.”
“Wrong much?” Matt asked as he broke into a grin.
“Lately? Yeah. Now, tell me what to do with the horse.”
“Well, you start by riding it.”
“Mattie.”
She looked so desperate and deflated that he regretted joking with her. “Come on.”
Matt led her toward a horse with striking brown-on-white tobiano markings.
“This one looks like a good fit for you,” he told her. “The American Paint Horse is a friendly, easygoing mount.”
“That’s what I want,” she replied eagerly. “Friendly. Very, very friendly.”
“Stand here,” he instructed her. “I’ll hold him steady. Take the reins in your left hand and place your left foot into the stirrup. Then just grab the saddle horn with your right hand and pull yourself up.”
Lucy looked around to make sure no one was watching and gave Matt a worried glance.
“You can do it.”
Most of Lucy’s five-feet, nine-inch height came from her legs, but when she pulled herself up to the saddle and tried to toss one leg over, she just couldn’t manage it. Instead of mounting, she just hung there on the side of the horse, one leg flailing, and the other bent up like a pretzel.
“Okay, come down,” Matt told her, trying hard not to laugh as he helped her. “Let’s try a box.”
He dragged one of the wooden crates toward her and positioned it next to the horse.
“Try standing on this.”
“Oh, good. That will be better,” she said, her almond eyes brimming with hope.
Stepping up onto the box, she took the reins into her left hand one more time. She looked over at Justin to make sure he wasn’t watching, bit her lip, and gave Matt an expectant nod.
“Left foot in the stirrup,” she whispered. “Right hand on the horn thingy. And then just—”
In one fell swoop, she pulled herself up, tossed her leg over the saddle, and followed it in a slow slide right down the other side of the horse.
Matt hurried around the horse and lifted Lucy to her feet in front of him. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he looked directly into her eyes. “Let’s try one more time, with just a little less of a thrust.”
He could see that she was struggling to pull it together, and he kept her eyes locked to his in an attempt to keep her from falling apart. “You can do this.”
“Okay.”
“One more time and you’ve got it.”
She seemed to brace with determination. “One more time.”
Matt followed her around the back of the horse and helped her up to the crate again.
“Sorry,” she told the Paint in a soft whisper and then gave him a pat. The horse seemed to nod in reply.
“Left foot in the stirrup,” Matt told her, and she complied.
To his great relief, she made it up and over.
“Good,” he told her. “Now ease down into the saddle and put your right foot in the other stirrup.”
She plopped down, but then nearly went over again when she began searching for it.
“Wait!” Matt exclaimed as he jogged around the horse and grabbed Lucy’s foot. He gently eased it into the stirrup and handed her the reins.
“Never let go of these,” he said. “Use the reins and your legs to tell the horse where you want to go. If you want to go left, pull them that way. If you want to go right, pull them this way. And, very important, Luce—if you want to stop, you pull them toward you, like this.”
He gave them a tug and looked at her hard to make sure she was listening. To prove it, she pulled them back and then gave him a nod.
“Good. Wait for me to saddle up, and then you can follow my lead.”
Alison, Jeff, Wendy, Tony, and Justin were already heading across the ring and through the open gate toward the trail when Matt rode up next to Lucy.
“Ready?” he asked her, and she gave him a tentative bob.
Clicking his tongue twice, Matt urged his mahogany Morgan forward. Lucy copied the click and then rocked back and forth in the saddle, obviously disappointed when the Paint didn’t move.
Matt nodded toward his leg and demonstratively nudged his heels into his horse’s sides. Lucy imitated the move and let out a little squeal as the Paint began to walk.
“Slow and easy,” Matt said, moving into position beside her on the trail. “There’s no need for anything else. Just take it slow and easy.”
Cyndi and Rob rode up behind them, and Cyndi was yelping with each step her horse took.
“Slow and easy,” Lucy reassured her. “Just hang on to the reins, and take the ride slow and easy.”
“Slow and easy,” Cyndi repeated, her face contorted into a dried apricot. “Okay.”
Matt let out a chuckle and shook his head at Lucy. She was nothing if not adaptable.
“Hey, where’s Brenda?” Lucy asked, looking around.
“She doesn’t like horses,” Cyndi replied, her tone still two octaves higher than her normal speaking voice. “She’s waiting back at the stable.”
Painting her nails, no doubt, Matt thought to himself, amused. There was certainly no pretending with Brenda. What you saw was what you got. She didn’t appreciate fishing, so she didn’t fish. She didn’t like horses, so she didn’t saddle up. Matt wished a little of that would rub off onto Lucy. She was working so hard to become the kind of woman Justin would find himself attracted to that she seemed to leave behind a little piece of who she was with every episode.
He looked over at her and watched as she held both arms out in front of her as if they were cast in stone, clutching the reins for dear life, with the Paint in a choke hold between her knees.
At least no one could ever accuse her of avoiding new experiences, he thought, and just then she looked over at him, her eyes as round as quarters.
“Relax,” he told her, chuckling. “Let your horse do all the work.”
“Hey, Lucy!” Justin called out as he galloped back down the trail toward her. “Want to race?”
Lucy’s amber, quarter-shaped eyes turned to large saucers, and Matt thought he saw every bit of color drain from her face.
“Up to the big tree with the knotted trunk and back again,” Justin told her as he angled up beside her.
“Um, o–okay.”
“No!” Matt exclaimed, forcing a smile when they all looked back at him. “I mean, you stay here with Cyndi in case she needs you. I�
�ll race you, Justin.”
Justin shrugged and grinned at Lucy.
“You call it.”
“Ready,” Lucy roared. “Set. Go!”
“Hah!” Matt shouted, slapping the reins and prodding his Morgan with both legs.
Adrenaline pumping, hooves thundering, Matt couldn’t help himself and let out a bellow of a laugh as he reached the tree and yanked the reins to turn around before Justin even arrived.
“Hah!” he yelled again, and the Morgan flew down the trail toward Lucy, Cyndi, and Rob.
Lucy waved her arms, and he could hear her high-pitched catcall as he galloped closer. It spurred him forward to know that she was cheering him on in a race against Justin, and Matt cracked the reins again to go even faster.
When she covered her face with both hands, bracing her entire body for a collision, Matt realized Lucy hadn’t been cheering him on at all. She simply couldn’t figure out how to convince the Paint to move out of the middle of the trail.
“Whoaaa,” Matt called, pulling on the reins to slow down as Lucy bounced harder in the saddle of the uncooperative horse.
“Move, horsey. Move, move,” he heard her pleading.
After he came to a stop beside her, and the others broke out into applause, Lucy opened one eye with caution.
“Oh, thank the Lord. I thought you were going to send me flying.”
Justin joined them in the next second, and Lucy melted into a smile that warmed the great outdoors by several degrees.
“Nice job, Frazier,” Justin congratulated him. “You’re quite the equestrian. How long have you been riding?”
“Since I was a kid,” Matt replied. “My sister Lanie roped me into taking lessons with her for several years.”
“I forgot about that,” Lucy commented. “Lanie won a bunch of riding awards, didn’t she?”
“Yeah, she kept it up long after I moved on to baseball.”
Alison called to them from the top of the trail. “Come on, you guys! You’ve got to see this.”
Justin led the way, and the others followed him up the incline and past the knotted tree. Matt thought Alison looked so excited when they finally reached her that she might just burst into song.
“What is it?” Lucy asked her.
Love Finds You in Snowball, Arkansas Page 6