Chapter 39 Riley

CHAPTER 39

Riley

THINGS I HAVE discovered in the past fifteen minutes:

Riding a horse is not as easy as it looks.

I may have underestimated the awesomeness of bacon.

Colton Walker's strong, silent-type vibes are genetic.

While my feet and I were initially relieved to see Captain Walker riding to our rescue with a pair of horses to carry us the rest of the way, my butt and thighs would much rather I had walked. Aside from Colton's Rescue Race move yesterday, this is only the second time I've ridden horseback and it's painfully uncomfortable. Here I am bobbing about in the saddle, while next to me, Colton and his dad are smooth and relaxed riders.

I gnaw off a bit of the bacon Captain Walker brought for us and savor the satisfying mixture of crispy meat and fat. I'm not sure if it tastes especially good because I haven't eaten anything remotely delicious (besides Colton's hot cocoa) in almost twenty-four hours or if it's because my body needs a hefty dose of salt, protein, and fat. All I know is that it's satisfying. No wonder the pioneers ate this stuff all the time.

Captain Walker hasn't said much since he met up with us. Like Colton, his chiseled jaw is perpetually tensed and his eyes are watchful and serious. I'd like to believe that underneath his stony exterior, he has hidden depths like Colton. Do they share the same wry sense of humor and knack for telling tall tales?

"Mack will meet us out in the corral as soon as we arrive to evaluate Chance." Captain Walker turns to me. "We'll meet up with your folks, get you a quick bite to eat, and then load you up in the wagon for our return trip. Wanda has everything packed and ready to go."

While Colton and his dad discuss the best alternative routes back to Darby, I try to memorize the prairie from this vantage point but it's next to impossible to focus. I shift in the saddle, hoping to find a more comfortable position, and catch Colton looking at me. "Are you okay?" he mouths.

I nod and grab hold of the pommel to keep from lurching right out of my seat.

I'm fine.

Everything's fine.

Everything's not fine.

Okay, that might be a tad melodramatic.

But still, everything feels off the minute we arrive at Fort Bellows. Similar to our first entrance in the wagon train, spectators line up along the sides of the main road to watch us enter. This time I recognize some faces. The McCreadys standing in front of the general store. The Stones and the Pinskis outside the tavern. Caleb and his buddies messing around in front of the post office. Up on this horse, I feel more on display than I did before. Maybe it's because I'm not hidden under yards of calico, with a giant bonnet concealing my face.

I glance over at Colton, wishing I could hold his hand. Or at least have him right by my side for moral support. When I catch his eye, he shrugs and gives me a look that I interpret to mean, "I don't get what the big deal is."

Exactly.

We weren't missing for days.

Neither of us is fatally wounded or even slightly injured.

We're hungry, thirsty, and in dire need of a warm shower, but who isn't after a night on the trail?

After what feels like an eternity, we make it through the welcome gauntlet and ease to a stop in front of the stables. A squat man with a crooked grin walks over and tips his hat in our general direction, his gaze focused on Chance. "Is he limping? Any gait problems? Shying away?"

Colton glides out of his saddle, landing lightly on his feet. "Not that I can tell, Mack."

The man nods and takes Chance's lead. "I'll give him a thorough go-over and call in Dr. Vitello if I need to."

"I'll join you in a minute," Colton says.

He strides over to me and reaches up to help me down frommy horse. Instead of landing with a graceful bend to my knee, my stiff joints wobble and I nearly fall over. His hands brace my waist, holding me upright, while I find my land legs. All the muscles in my body hum from exertion. If I listen carefully, I can hear every bathtub and hot tub in Nebraska calling my name.

Riiiiiillllleeeeey.

Colton leans down and whispers, "I really want to kiss you right now, but my dad is right there."

I take a step back and nod. "Colton, there's something I need to tell you."

Before I can say anything more, my parents wrap me in a crushing hug.

"I'll catch up with you later," Colton says, backing away to give us space.

"Oh my gosh, Riley, you gave us a scare," Mom says, holding my face in her hands and twisting it to the left and right as if to make sure I'm truly fine.

"We're so glad you're okay." Dad rubs his hands in a small circle on my back.

"You must be exhausted."

"And hungry."

They spin me away from the stable and wrap me between them, like I'm the creamy vanilla filling in their Oreo cookie sandwich. I catch a glimpse of Colton disappearing into Chance's stall at the back of the barn before they guide me onto the main avenue and back to our hotel.

It's slow going for me, with everything from my gluteus maximus to the tip of my big toe aching from the effort. Colton has to be impossibly fit to sleep on the ground and then ride for a few hours and not waddle like a duck because of it.

Captain Walker catches up with us as we make our way up the hotel's front porch stairs. "Wagons depart in an hour. I wish I could give you more time, Riley, but we're a day behind schedule and need to get things back on track as soon as possible so we can get everyone back to Darby on time. If you don't want to continue with the rest of the excursion," he says, looking to my parents for guidance, "we can always call the office and have a van sent for you when you're ready to head back."

And miss spending more time with Colton? "Hold up," I say. "Dad's been dying to go on a trip like this for ages and there's only two more days left. No one has cholera or dysentery or a broken bone, so at least we've got a chance to beat the game by making it to our final destination," I say.

Mom doesn't look convinced. "You've had a rough few days."

"Riding in the wagon is a lot of sitting. It won't be any more taxing than riding in a van, and at least I can enjoy the scenery better. Being stuck in a hotel room for the next few days would be even worse."

Dad squeezes my arm. "I have been looking forward to the sing-along."

"You can't miss that," I say.

Dad nods and turns to Captain Walker. "That's a kind offer, but we'll continue on the trail."

"Understood," Captain Walker says. "But the offer stands if you change your mind."

When we arrive at the departure point, it's a chaotic jumble of passengers, crew, and gawking onlookers. Wild Wanda and Felix take our bags and Tetris them into the cargo holds in the wagon. Ty fiddles with one of the mule's saddlebags. Captain Walker and Barnaby stand near the gates, staring out into the prairie while they discuss whatever has them looking so serious. I glance around, hoping to spot Colton, but there are too many people milling about and I'm sure he's busy preparing for the return trip.

I slide my backpack onto the floor and ease into my seat. Mom hovers beside me while Dad plops down next to the Stones at the front of the wagon. "Did you want us to sit back here with you? Your father and I don't mind."

"That's okay," I say. She and Dad have been treating me with kid gloves since I got back, and while it's a nice break from the constant headbutting with them, it's stifling.

"Okay," she says, brushing my bangs back from my face. "We'll be just up here if you need us."

"I'm seventeen, not seven," I want to say. But deep down, it's nice to know that in spite of all our disagreements and fights lately, she still cares.

Caleb leans forward in his seat across the aisle and drops his hands onto his knees. "Just so you know, I wasn't involved with the firecrackers. I told Kyle and Mark that it was a bad idea, but they didn't listen. I was worried that one of the bison might charge at them, so I went to find someone. By the time I found Captain Walker, they had already set off the second detonation. And, well, you know what happened after that." His fingers tighten on his knees. "If I'd thought you'd be in danger, I would have tried harder to stop them."

"Caleb," I say, reaching over to settle my hand over his. "It's not your fault. There's no way you could have known what would happen."

"Doesn't make me feel any less guilty."

"Did you purchase the firecrackers?"

"No."

"Did you light the firecrackers?"

"No."

"Did you toss the firecrackers?"

Caleb winces. "No."

"Then stop blaming yourself. There are plenty of other things that you've done to me—let them plague you with guilt instead."

His eyes light up with defiance. "Like what?"

"Are we really going there?" I ask. "Okay. How about the time you launched my entire My Little Pony collection into the neighbor's yard with your slingshot?"

"I was five," he grumbles.

"How about the time you ate the cookies I'd spent the entire weekend baking for the seventh-grade field trip fundraiser?"

"I was hungry." He smirks.

"How about the time—"

"Okay, fine," he says, holding up his hands. "I get it." The smile slides from his face and he grows serious again. "Are we good?"

"We're great," I say, doing my best Tony the Tiger impression.

"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.