Page 67

“Oh, man, now I want Frosted Flakes,” Caleb says. “I haven’t had a decent bowl of cereal since we left Darby.”

“Have you had any cereal since we left Darby?”

Caleb’s answer is drowned out by a loud whistle and a shout. Our wagon rocks as someone settles into the driver’s seat and then, with a sharp lurch, we’re rolling.

But unlike when we started this journey, things are looking up. Bright blue skies. Sweet, crisp air. A fluffy cushion under my butt. The only thing that’s missing is Colton, but I’ll see him soon enough, when we stop for the night.

CHAPTER 40

Colton

“HEY, MOM,” I say, tucking the phone receiver between my shoulder and my ear.

“Colton Mitchell Walker, you scared the bejesus out of me. Riding into a stampede, of all things.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice, Ma.” My hip rests against the desk in the operations office, which is scattered with bills, inventory lists, and reservation info. “It was either that or watch Riley get trampled.” My voice hitches when I say her name, the dread of what could have happened sending my heart thumping around in my chest. I cough, hoping Mom didn’t pick up on the tell. I’m not ready for her well-intentioned, yet completely awkward, questions about Riley just yet.

“Riley?” Mom says, her voice dripping with piqued interest.

“She’s one of the passengers. Ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Papers rustle on the other end of the line. “I have the manifest right here. Riley Thomas, seventeen, no known allergies. There’s a note in here about lost luggage. Poor girl’s having a tough time of it this week.”

“You have no idea,” I say.

“Sounds like she found a friend in you.”

“You could say that.” I’m pretty sure I’m securely out of the friend zone at this point, but Mom doesn’t need to know that just yet.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Mom,” I warn. “She’s a passenger. And she lives in California.”

“Okay, okay,” Mom sighs. “Just tell me, does she make you smile?”

The corners of my mouth lift automatically. “Yeah.”

“All righty, then.” I can picture her clapping her hands together.

“Mom, I’ve gotta run. But I love you and I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you, too, Colton. No more stampedes.”

I set the phone back into the cradle and glance at my watch. Mack should be just about finished looking over Chance. In the meantime, I have some paperwork to finish up in the office.

Twenty minutes later, I stride into the barn with my saddlebag slung over my shoulder. There’s a definite spring in my step, which can be directly attributed to a steaming hot shower, fresh clothes, and the prospect of spending two more days on the trail with Riley.

As I near Chance’s stall, I make out the murmured voices of Mack and…“Dr. Vitello,” I say, stepping inside.

This can’t be good.

Dr. Vitello glances up from her clipboard, where her pen is poised over a veterinary chart. “Howdy, Colton.” She gives me a firm handshake. “Heard you and Chance had quite the adventure yesterday.”

“You could say that.” I scratch at my stubble and try to sneak a peek at the notes she’s written in his file.

Mack leans against the far wall, feet crossed at the ankles. “I noticed a bit of tenderness in his right flank when I was checking him over. Doesn’t seem to be anything worrisome, but I thought it would be good to get a second opinion,” he explains.

“He’s not favoring it and doesn’t seem to be in any real pain,” Dr. Vitello says. “So I don’t think he has anything more than a slight muscle strain, which is nothing a little TLC can’t cure.”