Page 70 of His Eighth Ride

“I’ll take it.”

She thought she saw something strained on Tag’s face for a moment, but then he dropped his gaze to the dirt. “I’m just gonna….” He leaned into her, and she braced herself against his weight as he used her to get to his feet.

He offered her his hand again, but Opal wasn’t so sure she should take it. “Come on, honey-sweets,” he said. “At the very least, I can pull you toward the edge.”

How mortifying, she thought. In the end, she had no other choice. Trying to get to her feet in front of him and falling again would be worse. So she put her hand in his and let him pull her up again.

They stayed upright this time, and he said, “Let’s just shuffle over toward the dogs.” He went backward, and Opal took tiny, mincing steps forward. After what felt like a long journey, Tag stepped up a bit, pulled Opal with him, and she stood on drier ground.

Max barked and looked up at both of them, then ran around them in a circle, and barked again.

“Yes, yes,” Opal said, almost scolding the dog. “We’re out.” She looked down at her clothes—a nice pair of navy blue pants and a blouse that would never be white again. It had splashy flowers on it, but they wouldn’t look the same against a dingy background.

In that moment, she realized she’d lost a shoe. And she’d driven. Her hands flew to her pockets, and thankfully, she felt the hard plastic of the key fob. “I can’t get in my car like this,” she said.

“You can’t go in the farmhouse like that,” Tag teased.

She didn’t want to tell him she’d lost a shoe, but she didn’t see any other way around it. “I lost a shoe.”

Tag looked down at her feet, and in the quickly fading light, he made a noise somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. He looked up again, and Opal met his eyes. “We better get going.” He took her hand, dried and wet mud and all, and they started back toward the dirt road.

Opal limped along, doing her best not to cry out whenever she stepped on something less than pleasant. Thankfully, the road was just hard-packed dirt, with some smaller loose pebbles. Her socked foot also had a layer of mud, and she managed to keep up with Tag.

“Are you…?” She didn’t know how to bring up the questions in her mind.

“Am I what?” Tag looked over to her.

“Never mind,” she said. He’d already admitted he thought she was perfect, and she didn’t want to talk about any of that tonight.

“You need a good pair of garden boots for gardening, honey,” he said.

“Noted,” she said.

“I’ll get you some,” he said. “Because I know you’re not going to quit on that garden.” He wore joviality in his tone, and it made Opal smile. “Now, you’re going to be mad at me, but it’ll only last five minutes.”

Her heartbeat swooped through her body like a bird riding a strong wind current. “Mad at you?”

“The outdoor water isn’t on at the farmhouse yet,” he said. “But we’ve got it in the barn.”

It took Opal several seconds to connect the dots. “You’re going to make me go to the barn to be hosed off like an animal?”

“Honey, would you like to deal with Gerty when she sees mud all over her house?” He looked at her like she was some sort of swamp monster. “You’re dripping with the stuff.”

Opal held her head high, but she could admit it was hard, because the mud weighed a lot. “Fine,” she said. “Hose me down like a cow.”

Tag chuckled, but Opal just wanted to be in a hot shower, then her pjs, so she could bask in her own humiliation. “You’re not a cow.” He pressed a gritty kiss to her temple. “And bonus, you can spray me down too, and I have a much longer walk to a hot shower than you do.”

“There’s no way you can walk through the dark, soaking wet, to your cabin,” Opal said. “Just come shower at the house.”

“And put on what after?”

“Mike has clothes,” she said airily.

“Why aren’t you at Jane’s?” he asked, and Opal recognized him dodging her suggestion.

“She wasn’t feeling well.”

“That’s too bad.”

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