Page 36 of We Redeemed the Rain

Hellno.

I kept going and lost the other one too.

I heard Scribbs’ voice and saw his shadow pass through the headlights. He reached out to grab my arm and yelled, “Come on!”

When I felt the nightmare was almost over, I slipped like a big klutz.

Right in front of my long lost friend.

“Oh shit!” He lurched forward to grab me, but it was too late. My feet flew out from under me and I hit the ground with flailing arms.

To clarify, Ienteredthe ground with flailing arms.

Mud filled my ear, clung to my hair, and coated the entire left side of my body. Globs plastered over my eye, leaked into my mouth, and covered my shirt.

I lay on the ground in total shock. I could see Scribbs through my one eye squinting open. This was it. The epitome of all humiliation. I was living the most embarrassing moment of my entire life.

Tears warmed my eyes, which only served to draw mud into the left one. It stung. My chest tightened with emotion as I thought about my cozy bed in Colorado and how much I’d like to be in it right now.

A clap of thunder was the icing on the cake.

Scribbs leaned over me. An orange raincoat wrapped his frame, hood over his head. His hands grabbed mine, lifting me up. He gripped my upper arm and pulled me so quickly I staggered after him.

We were about thirty feet from the truck when I fell again. This time to my hands and knees, minus the one Scribbs had in a death grip.

The sound was soft at first, but as he dragged me up, I could hear it better.

Laughter.

He waslaughingat me. His shoulders shook as he pulled me the last steps to the truck. He jerked the passenger door open, grabbed my waist, and practically threw me inside. My eyes watered as I tried to situate myself in the seat. I could barely open either one.

How come I was about to take a short drive with the hayloft cowboy, and I legit couldn’t even see him?

I wanted to laugh too, but I cried instead. I couldn’t help it.

Scribbs got in and quietly sat for a moment before shifting his whole body to look at me. A very small noise—like a choking sound—came from him. “Are you alright? What”—quiet laughter—“what can I do to help you right now?”

Clumps of mud inched from the ends of my hair and down my neck, moving beneath my collar and dripping between my breasts. I squirmed, despising the feel of wet earth caked between my toes. “Do you have anything to wipe the mud out of my eyes?”

I felt his frantic movement as he searched the truck for something. “I—I have, uh…” Soft rifling in the backseat. “Shoot. I just cleaned this thing out.” He finally held out a bandana. I blindly reached for it and a blob of dirt plopped on the console.

Scribbs lost control, his laughter leaking out. “Forget it, I got it! I got it!” He scraped the bandana against my eyelid. “You are—covered. This bandana probably smells awful.” He sucked a breath in. “Is that better?”

“No?” I felt a twinge in my chest as crazy feelings blended together. A shake of laughter amid this catastrophe. “Do you have anything else?”

“Not really.”

“How about your shirt?”

“Myshirt?”

“Your pants then!”

I forced my eyes open just long enough to see his forehead connect with the steering wheel, and his shoulders shake in another fit of silent laughter.

Panicked by the sting, my voice rose. “I’d literally use a dirty sock! Anything! Please!”

There was a quick unzip, a whip of fabric, more movement. “Fine, just take this.” His inhale wheezed. “Here.”

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