Chapter Fourteen
Ford
“I look ridiculous,” Ford muttered, lifting a leg. But the red and purple clown pants didn’t deflate a bit. They remained air-filled, and that would only get in the way of crucial maneuvers . . . like wielding an axe and running to the next obstacle.
“At least you have a matching wig,” Liam said, and Ford wanted to wipe that grin off his face.
“What do you want with a Super Cub anyway?” Ford asked as they waited for the set of contestants in front of them to finish or disqualify. So far, only the Grant brothers had successfully completed the course. It wouldn’t take much to beat them if they hustled, if only they could keep on their ridiculous wigs.
“I’ve always wanted one.”
“Can you fly it?”
“Got my pilot’s license, remember?”
Ford must’ve forgotten that detail, though he probably grilled up a couple of steaks in celebration. Liam couldn’t grill a hamburger if a gun was held to his head. He could fix anything with a motor—car, ATV, boat, plane—but he was a hazard around a grill. “So? What are you going todowith a plane?”
“Go wherever I want. You can land those things anywhere.”
Because they were ushered to the platform, Ford let it go. Though he deeply suspected the plane had something to do with Tessa Whitmore, he couldn’t figure out what.
Ford scanned the crowd, happy and nervous to see Cadence in the front row with his sister. He could split wood in his sleep, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make a fool of himself in front of her.
“You really like her, don’t you?” Liam asked as their team was being introduced.
There was no point in denying it anymore. Though Ford had sworn never to risk his heart again, Cadence had softened his resolve. She wasn’t merely some woman who was nice to date. She was the kind of woman he could see someday settling down with. Planting roots. And he knew in his heart that Danielle would approve. “Yeah.”
“Then let’s impress your lady with a victory.”
Though the Grant brothers took more than ten minutes to complete the course, time flew once the buzzer sounded. Ford hustled beside Liam, finding a synchronized rhythm to get through the wood stacking obstacle as if a blizzard were seconds from hitting. Sweat made Ford’s purple wig slide precariously as they hurried to the next obstacle, but he caught it before it went anywhere.
He ran in front of Cadence on the way to the bucksaw, giving her a wink and earning a blushing smile in return. She and Rilee cheered his name. Yes, Ford was sure this was how life was supposed to be. Tonight, he would tell Cadence everything—about the money and about his growing feelings for her. If she got on that plane tomorrow, it would have nothing to do with him holding back.
They had to cut three pieces of log with a bucksaw, all with narrow dimensions. But the two of them had spent a summer working for Maxwell and learned to properly and efficiently use the long blade to make precise cuts. If it hadn’t been more than a decade ago, Ford might feel they had an advantage over the other contestants.
“Don’t screw this up,” Liam warned as they moved on to the next obstacle. “Our feet have to move together.”
Ford hated the log rolling competition most of all. Usually, the challenge was two people pitted against each other, each trying to knock the other off the log and into the water. But Maxwell had apparently grown bored of that and upped the stakes.
“When you take a hand off the rope, it goes on your head,” Liam instructed. “Ready?”
A few more visits to the gym would have come in handy, Ford mused. The log was happy to spin in place, but it wasn’t eager to move across the river. The current was nonexistent, but the log found whatever resistance it could. Ford’s quads would ache for a week after this excruciating workout.
Faintly, he heard Cadence cheering his name. That—and Liam hollering about the clock—pushed him past his burning muscles and toward the shore.
They hopped off the log onto dry land, both with hands firmly planted on their wigs. The buzzer sounded, and Ford flipped around to see their time. The only number that mattered was the first one, and it was a nine.
“We’re in the lead.” Liam hugged him hard, now that they didn’t have to worry about the fate of their clown wigs. Ford sent his sailing into the stream, earning a louder cheer yet from the crowd. There were two more rounds to go—four teams who could best their time—but Ford felt confident they had victory in the bag.
They’d have to swim across the chilly water to get back, but Ford didn’t care as long as Cadence was there waiting to congratulate him. Liam could have his plane. Ford just wanted the girl.
* * *
“I can’t believe you guys won a plane!” Cadence said that evening as they approached the downtown strip, which had been roped off for the street dance. They walked with fingers laced together. He found he was rather fond of holding her hand whenever the opportunity arose. And since Rilee had taken Riggs home, he didn’t have to manage an eager dog.
“That Maxwell is something else,” Ford said.
“Yeah.” Her eyes dimmed, and her lips parted as if she were about to tell him something important. When the words didn’t come, Ford squeezed her hand to let her know she didn’t have to say a thing if she didn’t want to.
