Chapter 25
Chapter Twenty-Five
As the horses plodded further along the trail, the world moved in slow motion.
Birds chirped overhead, their songs mixing with the soft clopping of hooves against packed dirt and the occasional snort from Duke and Biscuit.
The scent of wildflowers fused with pine trees and meadow grass in the mountain air.
Noah and I rode in silence, pretending to enjoy the peace and tranquility of the forest.
He was better at pretending than I was, though. The silence was suffocating.
“I like you too, by the way!” I shouted toward Noah’s back, a couple dozen yards in front of me.
At first, he ignored me.
“Did you hear me, Mr. Grouchy Mc’Grumpy Grinch? I said I like you too!”
Noah pulled back on the reins, and Duke shuffled to a stop, kicking up trail dust. “What are you talking about?”
I somehow veered Biscuit alongside him. “You said, and I quote, I like you. I think you like me. Remember? During our honest talk?”
“I remember.”
“What I’m saying is, you were right. I do like you.”
“You’ve been spending this whole time replaying that conversation in your head over and over, haven’t you?”
“Well, not the entire time. I thought about how much better this horse ride would be if there were muffins involved, too.”
As he stared back at me, I could see the war playing out on his face. His blue eyes darted away, as if he was looking for an escape, then flickered back to mine. His lips parted as if he were going to speak, then pressed hard back together.
Noah looked down at Duke’s mane one more time, but when he looked back up, I caught the hint of mischief twinkling in his eye. “Question for you.”
“This sounds serious.”
The look Noah gave me suggested all his questions were serious, and he wouldn’t be asking them if they weren’t. “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you hate this?”
“This?” I took a moment to consider what he meant by “this.” The horseback riding? The whole being-stuck-in-authentic-Colorado-adventures situation? The whole being-stuck-in-authentic-Colorado-adventures situation with him?
“I suppose it depends,” I answered, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Truth be told, despite our brutally honest conversation, followed by the traumatically awkward silence, and the fact that my butt felt like an overly enthusiastic meat mallet had tenderized it, I wasn’t hating the other parts. At least it had given me more time to spend with Noah.
Before we parted ways permanently.
“Why are you asking?”
“Because your answer will determine what happens next. Scale of one to ten.”
“What happens if I say one?” I asked.
“If you say one, and you really hate this, we turn around and go back. I drop you off at the resort where you get some sort of spa thingy and eat fancy snacks.”
“I do enjoy spa thingies,” I admitted. “And fancy snacks. Especially since I didn’t get any muffins today. But we still have Victoria’s video to shoot.”
“Fuck Victoria’s video,” said Noah. “Did you actually think I was going to do that shit for even one second?”
“No.” I puffed out my chest in my best tough-girl impression. “Did you actually think I was?”
“You were absolutely going to do Victoria’s video.”
Biscuit stumbled over a muddy pothole, and I yelped as I grabbed the pommel with both hands. “Fine. I probably was.”
Noah raised an eyebrow.
“I absolutely was.”
Noah pulled back on the reins, then turned Duke around, prepared to head back to the stable. “It’s fine. I don’t blame you. You were hired to do a job, and you’re committed to doing it. No shame in that.” Sinking his heels into Duke’s sides, he began heading back down the trail.
“Wait.” Biscuit started to turn around as well, but I pulled back on the reins to stop him from following. “What if I say ten?” I called after Noah.
Noah held Duke in place, turned back toward me. “Remember that spot at the end of Dawn Patrol? At the top of the trail, looking out over the mountains?”
“The place where we ate muffins,” I said.
Noah nodded. “I know a place even better than that.”
As miserable as that hike was, I couldn’t imagine a place more beautiful than the mountain overlook at sunrise at the end of it. The view had made all the torture and suffering worth it.
“There’s this spot up near Thunder Basin,” said Noah. “Not on any of the maps.”
“A secret trail then.”
Noah pressed his finger to his lips. “Shhh.”
“Does this secret trail lead to muffins?” I asked.
“You really have a thing about muffins, don’t you?”
I shrugged. “What can I say? They were delicious. I’ve decided to name my firstborn child Huckleberry.”
“Is that a boy name or a girl name?”
“Either,” I said. “Both.”
Noah just shook his head, another grin forming on his perfectly shaped lips. Lips that looked incredibly kissable in the filtered light coming down through the pine trees.
“If this trail is such a secret, how come you know about it?”
“My dad and I would camp up there when I was a kid.” For a few moments, it was like Noah’s head was already there.
“There’s this old pine on the edge of the cliff that’s been struck by lightning maybe three, four times.
Should’ve died, but it keeps growing, all twisted and beautiful.
During sunset, the light hits these crystal formations in the rock face behind it, and the whole cliff lights up like it’s on fire. ”
“Ten,” I said, without giving it another thought. “My answer is ten. I want to go to that place. The place with the lightning tree. The place you went as a kid.”
The intensity of my voice surprised me. But what was even more surprising was how badly I really wanted to go there.
And not just for an amazing photo op. I wanted to go to this secret place for a little peek into Noah’s past. I wanted to see what kind of place could have such an impact on him.
Even if I had to hike mountains, raft rivers, and ride wild horses to get there.
It was no wonder that Noah’s secret trail was a secret.
The trees were as dense as the floor space at a Taylor Swift concert, and the trail got even narrower the further we went.
I ducked as Biscuit tried to dislodge me from my saddle with another low-hanging tree branch.
“Did you train him to do this on purpose?” I asked.
“He’s not usually like this,” Noah called from somewhere behind me. “Must be feeling playful today.”
“Playful? More like homicidal.” I spat out a mouthful of leaves as I looked for the drive shaft so I could shift Biscuit into reverse.
Biscuit snorted, spraying horse snot and veering off the trail again toward a particularly nasty-looking thicket.
“Maybe I should take the lead from here on out,” said Noah.
I swatted another branch out of my face as Noah and Duke squeezed past us on the trail. “How far is this place, anyway?” I asked.
“It’s a bit of a ride,” Noah admitted. “About an hour and a half just to get there, then another hour and a half to get back. You okay with that?”
Let’s see, I thought, spending a couple of hours watching Noah’s denim-wrapped butt sway back and forth on the rear end of a horse … yeah, I thought. I can deal.
“I’m okay with that,” I said out loud, keeping the part about the butt viewing to myself.
The secret trail zigzagged up the mountainside, each turn bringing another postcard-perfect vista into view. Snow-capped peaks pierced cotton-candy clouds while golden aspens dotted the slopes like confetti.
My fingers itched to pull out my phone. Victoria wanted beautifully authentic Colorado content? This was it.
Raw, untamed, breathtaking.
The kind of beauty that would drive follower counts and engagement rates into overdrive. My hand crept toward the saddlebag.
“Everything okay back there?” Noah called without turning around.
“Other than my horse attempting arboreal homicide, everything’s great.”
“We should hydrate,” Noah said from ahead of me. “You about ready for a break?”
“Yes!”
“Follow me.”
Clenching my thighs around the saddle, I used the reins to guide Biscuit off the side of the trail, through the slalom of pine trees, around a jagged boulder, and then into an open meadow where we stopped on cue with both grace and precision.
I was now an expert equestrian. Or … Biscuit was simply following the swish of Duke’s tail, which was about three feet in front of his nose.
“So when you said the word hydrate, were you thinking Pinot Grigio or Chardonnay?”
“I was thinking lukewarm water from a canteen.” Noah jumped out of the saddle and approached Biscuit on foot. “Here, let me help you get off.”
Both our eyes went wide as we simultaneously realized what he had said. I felt my cheeks flush hot as I tried to banish the inappropriate thoughts suddenly racing through my mind.
“I mean, ah, let me help you down from your horse.” Noah’s deep voice sent another shiver down my spine.
When Noah reached up to help me dismount, his muscular hands caught my waist, and I slid down against his solid chest. For one charged moment, I was hyper-aware of everywhere he touched.
His fingers at my sides, the warmth radiating through his flannel shirt, the woodsy scent of pine needles clinging to every inch of his body.
My feet touched the ground, but my heart kept racing long after he stepped away.
Noah bobbed his head toward the view, a fever dream of purple columbines and yellow glacier lilies. The vibrant flowers seemed to stretch for miles, a kaleidoscope of colors swaying gently in the mountain breeze. “So, what do you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” I said, careful not to say out loud what was going through my head.
“Yeti, here girl!” Noah shouted at the trees. When Yeti came running, Noah pulled the canteen hooked by a carabiner to the saddle and filled a collapsible dog bowl with water. Once Yeti had her fill, Noah reached over to hand the canteen to me.
“I guess I know where I stand in the favorites order.” I took a step and suddenly realized I was now permanently bowlegged.
For the rest of my life, instead of walking anywhere, I was going to have to mosey.
“As soon as I get back to the resort, I’m getting a hot stone butt massage at the spa.
These leather saddles aren’t exactly made of memory foam.
“Hot stone butt massage? Is that even a thing?”
“If it isn’t, it should be.”
“You see that boulder over there?” Noah pointed at a large rock. “It’s been sitting all day in the sun. Should be hot enough for you.”
“Ha ha, Mr. Mountain Grumpy Dude. Ha ha.”
Noah tended to the horses, then laid out a saddle blanket so we could sit.
“You guys should do a Saddle and Straddle package,” I said as I made myself comfortable on the blanket. “Or the Trot and Knot.”
The look on Noah’s face suggested he didn’t think my idea was as brilliant as I did.
“It would be a horseback riding and massage bundle. Victoria would love it. Except for the horseback riding part.”
“I’ll think on it.” He paused for two seconds. “Yeah, no.”
He handed me the canteen. I took a sip. It was warm. It was stale. It was water.
While we drank, Yeti frolicked in the meadow. I hadn’t realized wolf-dogs were capable of frolicking, but she looked like she was having the time of her life. She rolled through a patch of wild iris then played tag with a butterfly.
“I should be filming this.” I moseyed over to Biscuit, bowlegged, then grabbed my phone from the saddlebag. “Yeti! Here girl!”
“Just to warn you, she’s not had any dog model training,” said Noah as he watched us skeptically.
“That’s okay. She’s a natural.” Yeti snapped her jaws at a flying bug buzzing around her ears. “Yeti, can you just ...” I patted the ground next to a particularly photogenic cluster of flowers.
Camera rolling, Yeti flopped onto her back, paws waving in the air, rolling in the dirt.
“No, Yeti, like this.” I demonstrated what I wanted, crawling through the grass. Noah didn’t bother to suppress a snort. “Don’t judge. This is art.”
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered, but I caught the smile tugging at his lips.
“Yeti, look majestic!” I snapped another dozen shots. “Channel your inner wolf.”
Yeti responded by rolling deeper into the flowers, crushing several beneath her furry bulk.
“Work with me here.” I army-crawled to a better angle. “Noah, can you get her to look more ... mountain-y?”
“Mountain-y?”
“You know, like she’s contemplating the profound mysteries of nature or something.”
“She’s probably contemplating whether she should bite you.”
I switched to video mode. “Yeti, run through the flowers! Be free! Be wild!”
Yeti wagged her tail and stayed exactly where she was.
“Fine.” I flopped onto my back beside her. “We’ll go for the lazy mountain dog aesthetic. Very relatable.” I took a selfie with the two of us side-by-side.
Noah’s face appeared above me, blocking my view of the gathering clouds. “You done playing Wild Kingdom? We need to get moving if we’re going to get there and back before dark.” I followed Noah’s eyes as he looked up at the sky, fixed on some of the darker clouds off in the distance.
“You mentioned there was a chance of rain …”
“Not until later tonight.” Noah tilted his head as if he were a professional windsock, assessing the speed and direction of the breeze. “We should be okay.”
“Should be?”
“Worst case, we get a little drizzle on our way back. You won’t melt if you get wet, will you?”
“Is that some kind of wicked witch reference?”
“You’re the one who said it, not me. We can turn around now if you want.”
“No, I want to keep going.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.” I would not let the chance of a little rain stop me from seeing Noah’s secret place. It would take a monsoon to stop me. Or muffins. I would have been easily distracted by muffins too.
“Then let’s go.
I stuck my phone in my back pocket, then waddled over to Biscuit to continue onward.