Chapter 8
Chapter
Eight
W eston eyed the 14 kids crowding the corral fence, eager faces glowing in excitement. Had he and Jude ever been that young? They must’ve been, human biology being what it was.
How had he let Paisley ramrod this excursion through? Not that he’d had a choice. She’d gone around him to Grandfather and Tate. Once the big shots decided this was a good idea, a good idea it was and would remain. Whether he liked it or not.
He turned to Harvey Little, the plump, 40-something attorney beside him. “Do you know all these kids?”
Harvey nodded. “Not sure how I got roped into this, though.”
That made two of them. If push came to shove — and it would — Harvey wasn’t going to be much help. “Your wife?”
“She’s a nurse, so our homeschool association thought she was a good choice. ”
Weston eyed the rotund woman chatting with Paisley. “Either of you ride before?”
“Susanna has.”
“How recently?”
Harvey waved a hand laden with rings. “Not since she was these kids’ age, but you know what they say.”
Weston only hoped his groan wasn’t audible.
The man grinned. “It’s like riding a bike, right?”
“Not exactly. How about camping?”
“Does an RV count?”
Weston pivoted to look at the man. “What do you think?”
Harvey looked abashed. “Not so much, huh?”
Not even a little bit. “Look, we can still call this whole thing off.” Paisley would kill him, but that was a small price to pay to get this week back, to say nothing of his sanity. “Because we’ll be in the saddle for four or five hours today, and there is no hot tub at the other end. No flush toilets. No memory foam mattresses or air conditioning.”
“I know.” Harvey’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard.
Weston pressed on. “You’ll be sharing a tent with several of those boys. You’ll sleep on a thin air pad without your wife by your side because she’ll be doing the same with a few girls. Which kid is yours, anyway?”
“Those twins.” The man pointed at a boy and girl who hung back from the others. Both of them looked a little on the chunky side, too.
“Your son will be in my group tent, and your daughter in Paisley’s.”
“No, he’ll be with me. ”
“Wrong answer. He’s here on an expedition, and I’m in charge.” Paisley would back Weston up, right?
The man scowled at him. “Fine.”
“Good. I’ll just check on our pack string, and then we’ll mount up.” Weston checked his watch. “We’ll be heading up the trail in fifteen.”
Jude and Darrell were stowing the last few items on the packhorses. Jude gave him a lopsided grin. “You’re all set.”
“As if.”
“Looks like you’re going to have a lot of fun.” He snickered.
Weston leveled a glare at his brother. “You’re just jealous you don’t get to come. It’s not too late. Your mare would love the outing.”
“Pepper would love it far more than I would, I can guarantee you that.” Jude clapped Weston’s shoulder. “I’ll be praying for you, bro. I’m guessing you’ll need it.”
A sharp retort nearly came out, but Jude was right. “Thanks. I think.”
Jude leaned closer. “You’ll get to know what Paisley’s like under pressure.”
“I already know. Happy, happy, joy, joy.”
“You could try it, too.”
“Ha.” Weston skimmed his hands over the pack animal’s harness, checking the straps and load for himself. Not that he didn’t trust Jude or Darrell but, ultimately, if there was a problem, it would be up to him to fix. Harvey and Susanna would certainly be no help.
He turned back to the group waiting by the corral. The sooner they got going, the sooner they’d return. Not that it quite worked that way, but whatever.
Paisley met his gaze with uplifted eyebrows. He gave her a nod, and she clapped her hands to get the kids’ attention. Thankfully, she would be the face of their leadership. Fine by him. He’d rather lead from behind anyway. Give a boot in the rear of anyone lagging behind. With any luck, that would be Harvey Little.
“Okay, everyone, listen up. We are going to have the greatest time over the next few days. We met each other in yesterday’s meet-and-greet, but I may have forgotten some of your names. We’ll know each other really well by the time we return Friday afternoon, though.”
Yay. Weston stifled a groan. He’d blocked names yesterday, trying instead to focus on experience levels. The answer to that was mostly a zero-to-two out of ten, except for one know-it-all kid, Matthew, who was likely to challenge Weston every time he turned around. He ought to stick the kid with Harvey, but maybe that would be exhibiting poor leadership.
Paisley consulted her clipboard. “Here’s how it’s going to go. I’m going to lead on Enchantment. You girls will ride behind me, followed by Mr. and Mrs. Little. Then all the boys, and our cowboy, Weston, will bring up the rear with the packhorses. No exceptions. No one passes on the trail or tries to outsmart me. Got it?”
Weston smirked at her reference to passing on the trail. He didn’t guess he was going to have a chance to muck up her plans if he was leading four packhorses. Maybe she planned it that way.
“Darrell and Jude will help Weston and me get you all mounted up. We had a lesson yesterday. Don’t forget what you learned.” Paisley turned to the girl nearest her. “Which is your horse?”
The girl pointed at Mirage, and Paisley boosted her into the saddle.
Weston helped a few kids near him but kept his hands to himself, trying not to watch, as Harvey and Susanna struggled to clamber onto their own mounts. Maybe a small part of him had assumed the adult chaperones promised for this group would also have some outdoor experience if not equine, specifically. Next time he was going to insist upon it.
If there ever would be a next time for a nightmare like the one about to unfold. Not if he could help it.
By the time they stopped beside the river for lunch, Paisley had a series of cricks from her neck to her tailbone from riding half-turned in her saddle to keep an eye on her charges. A helmet with a rearview mirror might look dumb, but it would have saved her body. And they were only halfway there.
She slid off Enchantment perhaps a little less gracefully than usual, but there was no time to pamper herself with all those kids waiting for her help. A few muddled on their own — she noted who those were — but the rest depended on her. Susanna managed on her own, somehow. Paisley cringed at the awkwardness. Poor Cinnamon.
Aryana Little tugged at Paisley’s arm. “Where’s the restroom?”
Somehow, Paisley hadn’t thought through the stop along the way. The latrine she and Weston — okay, Weston — had dug at the lake wasn’t any help here. She clapped her hands. “Any girls who can’t wait to use the bathroom for another two hours, please come with me.”
Every single girl surged toward her, leaving their horses standing.
Weston was already on it, gathering up their reins. Probably rolling his eyes as he did so, but she couldn’t see that for sure.
She led the girls out of sight into the woods and explained the concept of simply peeing in the wild. A few shook their heads and backed away, looking horrified, but most of them gritted their teeth and followed directions.
Back at the river, everyone washed their hands in the icy water. Susanna Little pulled a bottle of sanitizer out and squirted some in all the girls’ hands as well as her own.
Weston and Harvey handed out the lunch bags, and everyone settled down to eat.
Paisley had noticed a few picky eaters in the dining hall last night, but there was no evidence now. Good. They didn’t have options along, having made sure to work around serious allergies. That had been Weston’s mom’s job.
Weston held out the bag for them to stow their trash before telling everyone to mount back up. For a minute, Paisley thought a kid or two might rebel, but they obviously thought better of that decision and clambered back on their horses. Groans filled the little clearing.
Yeah, she felt that to the bones herself. “Next stop, the lake!” she called, beckoning them to fall in behind her and Enchantment.
A low-key cheer came from someone.
The remainder of the ride was fairly quiet. They saw no wildlife beyond birds and a few squirrels, but that was okay, since any distractions would only drag the trip out.
Paisley had never been so glad to catch the glimmer of a distant lake. She pointed down the valley to the girls nearby. Back a ways, she could see Weston on Ranger, with the pack animals behind him. All present and accounted for.
Enchantment picked his way down the slope, while Paisley kept her ears peeled for issues behind her. But everyone made it down to the clearing in one piece. She breathed a prayer of thanksas she swung off the gelding and helped the girls dismount as needed.
“Where’s the restroom?” one of the girls asked. One who’d refused earlier.
Paisley pointed at the rough boards across the meadow. “Behind there.”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely.”
The girl’s nose wrinkled.
“Look, it’s Elsa, right?”
The girl glowered.
“You’re on a trail ride and backcountry camping trip. We aren’t in the city or at some fancy camp for rich kids. I believe we explained all that in yesterday’s meeting. You have the opportunity of a lifetime to experience God’s gorgeous nature here in the mountains.”
One of Elsa’s shoulders lifted and fell.
Not impressed, huh? “So, unless you plan to hold it for the next three days, that over there is your toilet. Yours and all the female members of this group. Got it?”
The girl huffed and turned away. Not toward the latrine, Paisley noticed. But it would come. It would have to.
She showed the girls where to put their horses then turned to find Weston already removing tents and gear from the pack animals. She hurried over to help.
He pushed his hat back on his head and looked at her. “Still think this is going to be fun?”
Paisley mustered up a bright smile from somewhere down near her toenails. “Sure! Why not?”
Weston shook his head. “Bunch of pansies, that’s why.”
“They can’t help it. They’re here now, and it’s going to be amazing.” If only she believed it herself. “They’re going to remember this week for the rest of their lives.”
He snorted. “So will I. Next time you have such a brilliant idea, run it past me first, huh? Because I’ll shoot it down faster than you can blink.”
“That’s why I didn’t tell you first.”
“Figures.” He nudged two tents with his pointy cowboy boot. “These are for the girls. Figure you can manage them yourself?”
“No duh.”
“Just checking. Glad I don’t have to babysit everyone.”
Paisley leaned in a little more, her fists on her hips. “You don’t need to babysit me. I can hold my own.”
Weston’s eyes stared into her own.
Maybe she was too close. It seemed a little… intimate. Paisley had a sudden urge to grab him by the collars of his pl aid flannel shirt and place a big smack on those luscious-looking lips.
Nope.
She backed up a step. “I’ve got it from here. You worry about the boys.”
“Including the adult one,” he muttered, eyes rolling.
Whew. Her gut swam with a mix of relief and regret. “Yeah, well, I’ve got his wife, so we’re even.”
“Next time…” Weston caught her gaze again. “Not that there will be a repeat, mind you, but next time you make absolutely certain the chaperones have a clue what’s going on, do you hear me?”
“Loud and clear, master.” She saluted and began to pivot away.
He caught her arm. “Don’t be like that.”
Paisley lifted her chin. “Then don’t order me around.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were.”
“Sheesh, where’s your sunny disposition when you need it most?”
Paisley stared him down, the impulse to kiss him barely a distant memory. “How would you know? You’ve never smiled once in your life just for the fun of it.”
She pivoted but caught the heel of her left boot on a protruding root. Somehow, she remained upright, but grr that ankle hurt. She stomped off, trying her hardest not to limp. “Okay, girls! Over here. We’ll be setting up these two tents on the other side of that log.”
The log where she and Weston had almost had a moment last week. She wasn’t going to think about that. There was no logical reason at all why she should be hung up on the surly cowboy. So… she wouldn’t be. She could manage her own expectations and execute her own plans, and Weston Kline wasn’t going to be part of them, anymore.
She picked up a tent while Susanna and Aryana picked up the other one. Good for the Littles. She’d make backwoodsmen out of them yet. Because backwoodswomen wasn’t a word.
Watch her.