Page 84 of Brim Over Boot
“Yeah, holy shit. The treasure hunt literally ends at the beginning. Let’s go.”
Colton doesn’t need to convince me. He turns Clementine around and, at a pace swifter than before, leads her down the trail. He veers off the marked path after a while, cutting through what I’m guessing is his family’s land.
“Do you think anyone’s gotten there yet?” he asks.
“No clue. Someone might’ve made it through before us.”
He nods. “Or we’re the first.”
My pulse jumps, giddiness enveloping me. It’s such a silly thing, this treasure hunt. But if we win?
“Fuck,” Colton mutters. “Can you handle a gallop?”
“I’ll need to hold on to you,” I point out.
He huffs. “Don’t pretend you won’t like it.”
I chuckle, not denying it in the least. Without another word, Colton urges Clementine into a trot. I wrap my arms around his stomach to keep steady, my thighs gripping the horse tight, and then, with a stutter step, we’re off. There’s no bracing against the movement without stirrups of my own. I let myself roll with it, the smooth, rhythmicduh-dumpof hooves against dirt a metronome for our journey.
The sore ass will be worth it.
We pass through the woods for quite some time, and I’m astounded Colton made it to me so quickly earlier. He must have been moving fast coming through these woods before he got my call.
I try not to admire the man’s ease in the saddle. This life is baked in his bones, the same as me. I may not have grown up with horses of my own, but they were always a part of my life, always near and dear.
It’s why I thought, once upon a time, Colton and I might be friends. I thought we shared something. The same passion. That same lifeblood running through our veins.
But Colton and I were never friends. He made sure of that.
The bitterness rolls through me like Clementine’s hoofbeats, there one second and then gone the next. I let it go, knowing I can’t hold on to a grudge from another lifetime. It’s not fair. Not to me.
Not to him.
Finally, we break out of the trees and onto an open field. The Darlings’ ranch is bustling, even on the weekend. A few people stare as Colton and I rush past. Colton waves to a couple of the workers, but he doesn’t stop.
We’re both breathing a little heavily from the exertion of the ride as he slows in front of the horse barn. My eyes slip up to the hayloft door on instinct before I let myself focus forward again. Colton brings us to a stop, Clementine’s tail swishing and a snorting breath leaving her as I swing to the ground. Colton follows quickly, and I give our ride a good couple rubs on her neck.
Clementine sure is a sweet horse. I’ll give Colton that.
He quickly removes her gear, handing each item to me and directing me to toss them in the tack room for him to take care of later. After giving Clementine the quickest brushing in existence so she’s comfortable enough, he leaves her with plenty of water, and we rush toward his truck.
“We’ll get your bike later?” Colton asks as we jog.
I nod, certainly not wanting to take the time to do it now.
Colton unlocks the doors as we approach, and I hop into the passenger seat. “Shit,” he says, starting the truck and reversing before pulling us forward onto a dirt drive. “My pulse is going wild.”
“Yeah,” I agree, pulling out my phone to see if anyone from town has mentioned a winner yet. “What do you think is in the chest?”
“No clue,” Colton says, pulling roughly onto the road. He guns it, not caring about speed limits. “Probably not cash, right? It’s a fundraiser for the new playground. So it’s likely something donated.”
“Or multiple somethings.”
He nods. “I hope there’s whiskey.”
I snort a laugh, but I don’t disagree. Colton tasted damn good with whiskey on his tongue.
He slows once we get close to town. Pedestrians are still out, many looking as if they camped out in the park, making a day of the event as they wait for the winner to appear. I crane my neck as Colton finds the first available parking spot.
