Page 67 of The Wilder Widows

“He’s a madman!” Marge laughed, pointing down at the spotted gelding casually grazing beneath her.

“Yeah, he knows his job. Sorry, I didn’t see the cow break for it, or I would have warned you. Cochise never lets a stray get away.”

“I can see that!” Marge roared with laughter, wiping away the last of the tears.

“You sure you’re okay?” Madeline asked.

“Okay? She’s John Wayne, baby!” Alice nearly tumbled off Lady with the force of her laughter.

“You girls can ride.” Madeline gave Alice and me a smile. “Color me impressed.”

“What about me? I was a freaking bonified cow-wrangler!” Marge lifted her chin.

“I think that was all the horse, Marge,” I teased.

“Yeah. But I stayed on.” Pursing her lips, she arched her brows.

“That you did, Marge. Well done.” Alice leaned over and patted her on the shoulder. “Well done.”

“Why don’t you ladies come on back, and we’ll try to keep a better eye on you until we reach camp in a few hours.” Madeline waved us forward.

Alice and I clucked our horses on, and they went willingly. Marge gave Cochise the same encouragement, but just like before, he ignored her pleas and continued munching on the grass while she flailed above him, a stark contrast to the galloping steed she’d been on just minutes before.

“Oh cripes! Come on!”

Alice and I exchanged a glance and dissolved into laughter.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Wait, where does this go?” Alice asked, staring at the tent pole in her hand.

“I think it was supposed to go in there.” Pointing to the center of her tent, I grimaced. As we stared at it together, we watched it collapse on itself and fold into a crumpled pile of yellow fabric.

Tossing the pole on the ground, she crossed her arms. “I hate camping. I’m sleeping in yours tonight.”

Chuckling, I placed a hand on her back. “That’s fine, Alice. I don’t mind the company.”

“Aren’t we paying them to do this for us? I mean, shouldn’t they be setting up the tents?”

“It’s part of the experience. Fishing for our own food. Setting up our own tents. Building our own fires. It’s what makes it so fun!”

She blew out a puff of air that tousled her hair. “Says you.”

“Yeah. Says me. Just go find a place by the fire. Axel has been teaching Doris how to start one. I’m sure it’s going by now.”

“Have you seen those two? That fire has been burning all day.”

Doris had spent the entire day glued to Axel’s side. Or perhaps it was Axel who was glued to her side. It was impossible to tell who was following who while they crossed the fifteen miles of lush terrain today. And Doris had never looked happier. Radiant, in fact. Doris looked downright radiant basking in the glow of Axel’s attention.

“Caught one!” Marge walked up holding a dead fish. “This sucker didn’t know I used to catch ‘em by hand back in ‘Nam. Tried getting away. Psht.”

“Atta girl, Marge. You’re really getting the full wilderness experience,” I said.

“I was made to rough it.” She looked at Alice. “Unlike Princess Pansy over here.”

“I was made for the stage, Marge. Lights. Cameras. An audience. Not trees and squirrels.” She pointed to the squirrel scurrying across a branch overhead.

“Just go sit by the fire and let the rest of us handle the dirty work.”