“That’s because it isn’t.” Eliza grinned, fastening her hair into a messy bun on top of her head. “At least, not anymore.”
“The Poppy Creek Historical Society started it decades ago as a way to commemorate the town founders who had to cross the creek when they first settled here,” Penny explained. “According to folklore, the creek was several feet wide in those days, and crossing with all of their supplies was no easy feat. Now, since the creek is so narrow, we walk downstream instead of across.”
Cassie frowned. “If it’s just a walk, why have Luke and Colt been warming up all morning? From their competitive banter, you’d think they were about to run a marathon.”
Eliza leaned into a deep lunge, stretching her arms over her head. “Because traditions in Poppy Creek have a way of escalating. Several years ago, a few of the guys decided to turn it into a race. Now it’s a free-for-all. Some of us still walk it. But some compete to be the Creek Walk king.”
“Or queen,” Penny added. “Sadie won three years ago.”
“That’s true. The look on Jack’s face when she sprinted past him at the finish line was priceless,” Eliza giggled.
“You don’t compete?” Cassie took in Penny’s white capris and peplum blouse.
“I stay behind and help set up the celebratory barbecue in the town square for after the race.”
“You ladies ready?” Sadie Hamilton approached wearing a Nike one-piece topped with knee-length board shorts.
Eliza smiled at the goggles draped around her neck. Although sweet as saltwater taffy, Sadie, the owner of the local candy store, was as competitive as they came. And her tall, muscular frame gave her an edge on the competition.
“Ready!” Eliza cinched the double knot on her hot-pink swim shorts before slipping on her water shoes.
Cassie twisted the end of her long braid, casting a nervous glance at the creek. “I don’t know… the water looks cold.”
“It’s freezing,” Penny told her, before Eliza shot her a warning glance.
“Don’t scare her,” Eliza chided. “You get used to the temperature after a few minutes. Besides, once you start running, it’ll feel nice.”
“I’m not sure I’m coordinated enough for this.” Cassie gazed at her knees, which bore a couple of small scars. “I’ve been known to trip walking off escalators.”
“I’ll hang back with you.” Eliza slung her arm around Cassie’s shoulders.
“Me, too!” Sadie offered.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Penny chided. “You give those boys a run for their money. Colt’s back this year. You don’t want to listen to his smug bragging all week, do you?”
“Good point,” Sadie chuckled, securing her nose clip.
“Remember, no foul play,” Eliza added, still feeling guilty about last night. He’d looked so hurt when she’d rebuffed his kiss, she almost hoped Colt would win, if only to bolster his wounded pride. “The rules clearly state no physical contact.”
“Okay, but I’m not above splashing a little water in his eyes.” Sadie laughed as she positioned the goggles on top of her head. “Let’s move to the starting line, shall we?”
“Good luck!” Penny called out as they joined the rest of the runners on the bank of the creek.
Eliza scanned the mass of brightly colored bathing suits and tanned skin, her heart stopping when she laid eyes on Colt and Grant stretching a few feet ahead.
Both men wore nothing but their board shorts, their broad, toned backs on full display. Though Colt’s physique boasted more rippling muscles, Eliza couldn’t tear her gaze from Grant’s lean lines, preferring the svelte form of a dancer over a bulky, athletic build.
Her throat went dry as she noticed the palpable tension surging between them. Was it purely the competitive spirit of the race?
Or was there more behind their adversarial glances?
* * *
Normally, Grant wasn’t the competitive type. As kids, he’d participated in the Creek Walk with anall in good funmentality, never minding that he always finished several minutes behind the rest of the guys. But today, adrenaline coursed through his body, providing energy and agility he didn’t know he possessed. Keeping Colt in his sights, he managed to pass Luke, Jack, and Reed. Sadie came next. He had to hand it to her; she made the exertion seem effortless, while he panted like he might pass out any second.
Finally, it was Grant and Colt in the lead.
A few feet up ahead, the creek emptied into a large swimming hole, too deep to stand. Grant expected Colt to dive in headfirst, then kick off with a skilled breaststroke. Much like he’d done in high school.
