“Oh, Petunia isn’t a horse. She’s a mule.”
Petunia’s half donkey. They’re giving me a horse that isn’t a horse at all.
Henry must see the look of mild disgust on my face because he laughs. “She’s a good girl. You won’t have any trouble with her. Plus, if you were to get separated from the group—which you won’t—she’ll always find her way back home in time for dinner.”
Fabulous.
I smile and wait my turn, trying not to look at Petunia with distaste. Henry shows me how to saddle her up. As much as I hate to agree with Amber, I’ll never remember how to do it on my own.
“She’s a great little molly.” Henry gives Petunia a pat. “You two will get along just fine.”
I barely hear him because Nicole comes striding up.
And look who’s with her.
Feeling like I’m interrupting something, I say, “Hey, Jack.”
“Morning, Kinsley.” He smiles his crooked smirk and stands next to me, draping his arm over my shoulders as he asks Henry, “What lucky kid gets Petunia?” Then he turns to me to explain, “She’s a favorite with the little ones.”
Nicole tries to hide her smile but doesn’t succeed.
“Kinsley’s going to be riding Petunia,” Henry answers. “Nicole said she’s never ridden before, so we want to give her a nice, gentle mount.”
Petunia is the kid’s horse…mule. Whatever.
Henry patiently goes about explaining the basics of riding to me. After I try—and fail—several times to pull myself up into the saddle, Henry gives me a boost.
To my horror, he insists I walk Petunia around the corral, which makes me feel like a five-year-old on a pony ride.
Two more couples show up, one in their early thirties and the other about my parent’s age. The first have a dog with them, who I learn is named Sadie. The little Australian Shepherd isn’t much bigger than Schnitzel, but she’s a lot sprier.
This isn’t their first ride, and apparently Sadie has been trained to run behind them.
The woman scratches the dog. “I’m Sara. This is my husband, Dan.”
I say hello, and then the older couple comes over, introducing themselves as Mark and Claire. It’s their first trail ride too.
“We love camping, though,” Claire says. “And this is something we’ve always wanted to try.”
She has a nice smile that’s just on the edge of anxious. It’s nice I’m not the only one who’s a little nervous.
With my gear strapped to Petunia, we finally set out on the trail.
I begin to relax about fifteen minutes into the ride. The sun is bright, and the morning is warm enough that I will have to pull off my hoodie soon.
Petunia lags behind the others. She constantly stops to sample weeds, tasty-looking tufts of grass, and anything else that catches her attention.
Again, I coax her forward.
Jack started out riding next to me, but somehow Nicole managed to nudge her horse between us. Now, thanks to Petunia’s snacking problem, the two are ahead.
Trying not to scowl, I study them. Nicole’s hair is pulled back in a sleek braid. Small pearl studs adorn her ears, and she has on dark skinny jeans, cowboy boots, and a formfitting red tank top that looks great with her tanned skin.
I glance down at my outfit. Under my new hoodie is a plain, fitted T-shirt. My hair’s twisted in a knot, and I didn’t even think to put in earrings.
Maybe I should have put a little more thought into it. But who knew one was supposed to dress up for a week in the woods?
Peter urges his horse next to Petunia. “It’s a nice morning.”
He gives me an easy smile.
I pull my eyes from his sister’s back. “Is it supposed to be sunny all week?”
“It is, but you know the mountains. It can change anytime.”
I’ve resorted to conversing about the weather.
Peter and I manage to make friendly small talk for a while, but I’m sure he can tell my mind is elsewhere.
Finally, Jack breaks away from Nicole. She ends up getting stuck talking with one of the couples. As the owner’s daughter, she has to play tour guide.
In the middle of her conversation, she glances over her shoulder, looking for Jack, most likely. She spots him with me and frowns.
I smile when our eyes meet. Irritated, she looks away.
“Having fun?” Jack asks, matching Petunia’s carefree pace on the side opposite Peter.
“I think it’s a little too early to tell.”
Peter laughs, but Jack gives me a knowing smile, like he can read my mind.
My stomach flutters at the intimacy of his gaze. When did Hudson ever look at me like that? When did Hudson ever understand me?
Peter’s dad calls him, and he rides ahead, leaving Jack and me behind.
From way up front, Amber laughs at something Hudson says. I study her. It’s strange, but she actually seems amused by one of his stories. Hudson’s not that funny. Or funny at all.
Baffled, I shake it off and turn my attention to Jack. “I didn’t think you had much use for horses.”
He flashes me his smile. “I don’t.”
“Then why are you putting yourself through this?”
He cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. “Why do you think?”
My face grows warm, and I let my eyes wander to the mountains. “The scenery?”
“Well, I can’t argue with that.” He glances around but then turns his attention back to me, his eyes on my face. “The view is great.”
I bite back a big, silly grin when he finally looks away. After watching Nicole drool all over him, his words are exactly the ego-boost I need—as long as he’s not whispering the same sweet nothings in her ear.
No, that’s just jealousy trying to get the best of me. There’s nothing between him and Nicole. Not anymore, anyway. He hasn’t fessed up about the two of them dating, but they must have.
Petunia stops yet again, and I coax her along. We make our way through several valleys and over ridges, and about the time I think there will never be feeling in my butt again, we stop for the evening.
I nearly groan out loud when I crawl off Petunia. Henry shows us how to take care of our horses (and mule) for the night, and Amber ambles over to me.
She looks ridiculous in her outfit, but somehow she pulls it off. It’s probably because she’s so petite. She resembles a themed fashion doll.
After taking off her hat, Amber fluffs her hair.
“Now I know what they mean by saddle sore.” She leans in close so no one will overhear. “Hudson’s being a baby about it. By the way he’s whining, you’d think his seat was lined with thistles.
Despite myself, I crack a small smile.
She grins back, but then her expression turns solemn as she subtly nods toward Nicole. The girl’s cornered Jack again.
“Watch that one,” Amber says.
I raise an eyebrow, silently reminding her of our peculiar relationship.
She bristles. “I didn’t know Hudson had a girlfriend.” She jerks her chin toward Nicole. “But that one knows it and she’s still slitherin’ her way in.”
I don’t want to tell Amber that Jack and I aren’t dating. If Hudson were to find out, it would make me look like more of a loser than he already thinks I am.
Chewing my lip, I watch Nicole run her hand down Jack’s arm. He shifts away. Undaunted, she steps closer. With crossed arms, he nods a few times as he listens to her, but then his eyes wander to me.
When our gazes meet, his lips tip in small, promising smile. Barely breathing, I watch him until he reluctantly turns his attention back to Nicole.
“Oh, my.” Amber fans herself with her hat. “Never mind. That man is smoldering all for you.”
Peter joins his sister, and Nicole steps closer to Jack. If someone didn’t know better, they would think they were a couple.
As much as I hate to admit it, Amber has a point.
“Kinsley.” Jac
k waves me over. “Let’s get your tent set up.”
I glance back at Amber.
She widens her eyes and jerks her head. “Well, go on now.”
When I reach them, Jack immediately wraps his arm around my waist and squeezes me to him.
Nicole frowns for a moment but then smiles like she’s been friendly to me this whole time. “Campers are expected to set up their own tents.”
Jack motions to the younger married couple. “Sara isn’t setting her tent up by herself.”
Sara helps snap clips to the poles, but Dan does most of the work.
Nicole rolls her eyes. “They’re together.”
“How about that.” Jack grins down at me. “What do you think, Kinsley? Can I help you with your tent?”
My stomach flutters, and I nod.
Nicole doesn’t manage to hide her irritation now, but I don’t care. Jack’s arm is around me, and, at this moment, nothing else in the world matters.
After we wander a bit, Jack says, “Here’s a good spot.” He sets my tent down and points to the area next to the one he’s chosen. “And I’ll set mine up right here.”
“Are there rules about that?” I look at him, happy with the near privacy of our tree-enclosed nook. “Campers setting up their tents too close together?”
He kneels, pulls my tent out of its bag, and glances up, a smirk hovering over his lips. “Maybe.”
“How long did you date her?”
The smirk grows. “Jealous?”
“Of what?” I try to laugh.
He stands, the tent forgotten. “Of Nicole.”
Not able to meet his eyes, I study a jay squawking at us from a nearby tree. “What? No.”
Jack leans down, his mouth only a few inches from my ear. “I never dated her.”
I finally meet his eyes and give him an incredulous look.
He laughs and goes back to setting up the tent. “It’s true—not that she didn’t want to.”
As I help him unfold the corners, I say, “So your allure is in the fact that you’re unattainable?”
Isn’t he ever.
Our eyes meet again.
“Maybe.” He draws the word out, teasing.
The other campers are near enough we can hear their conversations, but not close enough to quite make them out.
Jack leans in, his eyes straying to my lips.
“Or maybe it’s because I’m a sexy lumberjack.” He flashes his smirk, straightens, and hands me one side of the tent. “Here, help me with this.”
I sit back on my heels, laughing despite myself.
How does he do that?
Even teasing, he leaves me breathless and off balance.
Dinner is courtesy of Nicole and Peter’s uncle Greg, who showed up in a truck about twenty minutes after we arrived at our campsite. He pulled out coolers, lit an impressive fire, and now we’re balancing camp plates on our laps, eating T-bone steaks by firelight.
It might not be authentic, but it’s so good. And it beats dehydrated packaged meals. No contest.
After helping himself to seconds from a huge pan of cornbread, Jack sits next to me.
I eye his plate, where three golden pieces sit, covered in butter and shining with honey. “How can you eat all that?”
There’s no way I’ll even be able to finish my steak. I glance across the fire to see how much Hudson has eaten. Apparently he doesn’t have the same qualms he did at the cafe; his plate is clean. He and Amber sit, their knees brushing while they talk and laugh. Hudson smiles at her, his eyes bright.
It should bother me, maybe. But it doesn’t. What bothers me is the sultry little looks Nicole keeps sending Jack’s way when she doesn’t think I’m looking. Or maybe she knows I’m looking and doesn’t care.
“Are you kidding?” Jack stabs a good-sized chunk of the bread with his fork. “I can eat all this and still have room for brownies.”
With a forkful of potato halfway to my mouth, I pause. “There are brownies?”
Jack nods with a full mouth, his eyes laughing at me.
I finish the bite and set my plate aside. I’m certainly not going to waste any more room when there’s chocolate waiting.
“Is the trip as bad as you thought it was going to be?” Jack asks.
At the moment, I don’t know how it could be any better. Jack’s close enough his arm brushes against mine, and we’re talking under a sky full of stars.
“It’s not bad,” I answer.
It would be even better if he’d shove that plate off his lap and kiss me. I’d forgo a brownie for that.
Sadly, he takes another bite. I sigh to myself and stand, ready to hunt down dessert. Somewhere, I read horseback riding burns a lot of calories. I really hope it does.
Peter lingers by the camp table, doling out seconds while his uncle and dad eat. His face lights up when he sees me. He’s as cute as a puppy. A really tall puppy.
“I heard a rumor there’s chocolate over here,” I say.
“My mother’s specialty.” He lifts tinfoil off another pan. “They’re the best.”
I forget how full I am at the sight of the ginormous tray of chocolate frosted brownies. He cuts a good-sized square and plops it on a plate. I reach out, but he pulls it back at the last moment.
Peter glances over my shoulder, and then his face stretches in a good-natured grin. “You’re not going to run away yet, are you?”
Crossing my arms, I stare him down. “If I turn around, I’m going to find your sister in my chair, aren’t I?”
A guilty look crosses his face. “She’s determined, that one.”
“Better give me one for her too, then.”
He shakes his head like he thinks I’m crazy and hands me both plates. “Best of luck, Kinsley.”
I tilt my chin, giving him my best impersonation of Ginger’s look. I must do an adequate job because he holds up his hands and chuckles.
Sure enough, when I turn around, Nicole has taken up residence in my chair. Jack’s expression doesn’t look as pleasant as before, and my spirits lift. Maybe he’s getting a little tired of her attention.
Nicole doesn’t look up when I walk over, but she’s forced to acknowledge me when I offer her a plate. “Peter said your mom’s are the best.”
She blinks at the plate before she accepts. “Oh…thanks.”
Turning to Jack, I say, “I would have brought you some, but I wasn’t sure where you’d put it.”
“I’ll just have some of yours,” he says.
I hold the plate a little higher. “I don’t think—”
Jack pulls me on his lap, trying to get my plate. I hold it away from him, laughing as his strong arms clamp around me.
Triumphant, he steals my brownie and takes a bite, holding it just out of my reach.
I struggle to get free, but, if I’m honest, I’m not working all that hard at it.
He takes another bite, pretending to savor it. “This is good.”
Nicole watches us for a few moments, but, uncomfortable, she eventually excuses herself.
Jack’s grip loosens, and I snatch the brownie away from him and whisper, “It’s shameless how you just used me to get rid of her.”
Still on his lap, I shift to stand. His arms tighten again, locking me in place.
“Maybe I just wanted your brownie.” He tilts his head, flashing me his knee-weakening smirk. “Or maybe I wanted an excuse to get you here.”
Seeing he’s left me off-kilter, he takes another bite of my dessert.
“Nope,” he says in my ear. “It was definitely for the brownie.”
I laugh and swat his arm. He finally loosens his grip so I can stand.
After sinking back in my own chair, I take a slow, deep breath. I can still feel his arms around me.
Chapter Seventeen
I smack my forehead on the lantern hanging from the middle of my tent. Groaning, I clutch my head. The light swings back and forth, casting dizzying shadows.
Somehow, though maimed, I
manage to zip my tent the rest of the way up.
“You good in there?” Jack calls.
“Peachy,” I yell back.
I can just make out his muffled laughter.
My sleeping bag’s still stuffed in its bag. Crouching on the floor, I undo the knot and give it a yank. Instead of the bag coming out, I go backward, plopping hard on my rear end. I grumble and pull myself up, this time resting firmly on my knees.
The slick material is cold. The temperatures outside are already freezing. How is sliding into this refrigerated bag going to keep me warm?
Once I have the sleeping bag stretched out over the half-inch-thick pad that promises “light-weight, all-night comfort”, I plop down on it. The packaging lied. It might be lightweight, but it’s not comfortable.
I close my eyes. My bed back in the cabin is warm, and it smells like Grandma’s detergent…
Sighing, I sit up and rummage through my bag—which smells like mule and campfire—for my pajamas. Freezing, I pull off my jeans and yank on a pair of yoga pants. Not bothering to take off my sweatshirt, I unzip the sleeping bag and slide in.
My head hits the ground, and I groan. I forgot that extra blanket for my head. Maybe I can sleep without a pillow.
The other camper’s conversations die off as everyone retires to their own tents. I shiver in my nylon bag. I’ve never even camped out in my backyard. Being out here, alone in the woods, is kind of terrifying.
And it doesn’t help that Jack is less than ten feet away. I’m still by myself.
Clenching my eyes shut, I reach up for the lantern and search for the switch. I used to do this when I was little. If I shut my eyes before my mother turned off the light, then I could pretend it was still on.
Not that I can trick myself now, but I don’t want to see the shadows on the side of the tent. The wind is already blowing through the leaves, and the sound is eerie enough.
After I flick off the switch, I rest my hands under my cheek. My body aches from the day-long ride, so I shouldn’t have trouble falling asleep.
I lie here.
It’s like my first night at the cabin all over again. But instead of sleeping in the backseat of my car, I have this nice, cozy tent…a tent that shifts in the breeze.
[2015] Just the Essentials Page 13