Scout turned the key in the ignition. “So where to?”
Naki’s gaze shifted to her, steady and unflinching. “Follow the Park Loop Road until you see the sign for Sand Beach. Then turn off into the parking lot.” He cast a glance back at Chase. “It’s unfortunate you didn’t consider better footwear for a vigorous hike in the rain.”
Scout swallowed a laugh. She had already noticed Chase was wearing his customary boat shoes. No socks. Like so many park visitors, he wasnotprepared.
Maisie straightened up, pressing a hand to her back as she squinted down the stretch of carriage road they still had to clean. It was endless. Frankie had definitely exaggerated the number of horses using the roads, but the ranger had seriously underestimated how much litter hikers and bikers could leave behind. Unbelievable.
Water bottles crammed into bushes, candy wrappers, plastic bags—so far, Maisie had collected three pacifiers and one lone shoe. She held the shoe up for Frankie to see. “How does someone not notice they’re missing this?”
“They don’t,” Frankie said flatly, tossing an empty water bottle into the bag. “Because most people are idiots.”
Maisie flicked another candy wrapper into her trash bag. “Fun fact! These roads were built in the 1920s by J. D. Rockefeller. He wanted them wide enough for carriages to drive through the park without ruining the landscape.”
Frankie snorted. “Yeah? Well, guess what? People still ruin it.”
Maisie didn’t let that slow her down. “Fun fact! The roads are made of crushed stone and were specifically designed to blend in with the natural landscape, so they’d look like they were meant to be there all along. And another fun fact: There are forty-five miles of carriage roads in the park.”
Frankie let out a groan. “We’ve only cleaned up a mile of ’em.”
“Well, this is probably the messiest mile since it’s closest to the vendors.”
“I’m talking about horses.”
“Oh. Right.” But Maisie was pleased that Frankie was listening to her. “Yet another fun fact! The carriage roads have stone bridges that are handcrafted to match the park’s style, which is pretty amazing. And each bridge has its own unique design.”
Frankie scrunched up his face. “Where do you learn all this junk?”
“It’s not junk!” She put her hands on her hips. “I read a lot.”
Frankie raised an eyebrow. “Fun fact. Reading too much can make you go blind.”
Maisie blinked. “Wait. Is that true?”
Frankie tugged a plastic bag free from a tangle of branches. “It’s like people think their junk is just going to vanish on its own. I wish I could vanish and go look for that gold.”
Maisie shot him a sharp look. “Shh. Don’t say gold.”
“Fine. Moola. Smackers. Greenbacks. Clams. Rubles.” He glanced over his shoulder as if conspirators were lurking behindthe bushes. “Big deal. It’s not like anyone’s listening. I just know when I get my share, I’m spending it on a kayak.”
Maisie shook her head, hiding a small smile. “You really think you’re getting some of it?”
“Sure do. Ever heard of the finders-keepers rule?” Frankie shrugged like that settled it, flicking another piece of trash into his bag.
Maisie raised an eyebrow. “Uh, Scout’s the finderandthe keeper.”
Frankie frowned, turning to her. “She wouldn’t have found it without me. So, technically, we both found it. That counts.”
Maisie didn’t miss a beat. “Nope. She found it. Then you found her.”
She didn’t add the rest of what she knew from Pops. That Frankie had left the whale oil house door unlatched. That Scout had come back to close it up, spotted a loose brick, and found the envelope hidden behind it.
The envelope.
A shadow passed through Maisie’s thoughts, like a cloud blotting out the sun—except there wasn’t any sun, just cold drizzle and mud. She still felt really guilty about that envelope. If she’d just left it in Pops’s desk, Chase Fletcher wouldn’t have gotten involved. There wouldn’t be this enormous pressure to hurry up and find the gold.
But then again, she wouldn’t be here, spending the day side by side with Frankie. Her true love.
So maybe things worked out after all.
