Something Wilder

God, it was unbearable. Lily’s heartbeat was a jackhammer on concrete.

“You all met Nicole last night,” she said, slowly finding her footing in the words she’d said at least a hundred times before. Nic waved from where she was pouring herself a cup of coffee, and Lily was pleased to see everyone’s posture straighten in response.

“I’m Lily Wilder, ‘Dub’ to Nicole. Welcome to Wilder Adventures. I hope you’re all ready for some good food, great horses, one-of-a-kind adventure, and some of the most beautiful country you’ve ever seen.”

The guest Lily assumed Nicole had labeled “the loud one”—a fit, tanned white guy with prep-school hair and perfect teeth—slammed a hand on the table, cutlery clattering. “Bring it on!”

“You’re here for a guided tour of some of the most remote and beautiful canyon lands on earth. In the late 1800s, outlaws like Butch Cassidy famously used a long trail that stretched across the West to evade the law. On that trail were Hole-in-the-Wall, Brown’s Park, and Robbers Roost. You’ll be riding some of it just like they did,” she said. “Along the way we’ll have some fun games, some home-cooked meals, a little history and geography, and at the end you’ll get to use your newfound skills with the terrain to find hidden treasure.”

A tall, tattooed man let out a derisive laugh, and Lily glanced over at him as he passed a hand across a thin mustache and wispy beard. Must be the creep.

Ignoring him, she continued. “I’ve been in and out of these mountains all my life. I know every trail, every landmark and plant out here. As long as you do what we say, I promise you’ll be safe and have the best trip of your life. That said, I’m in charge on the trail, and when I’m not around, Nicole is. You may have noticed that we are women. If you have any problems following a woman’s lead, taking instructions from us, being respectful, or keeping your hands to yourself, you should say something now while we can still call someone to come get you.”

Nicole placed her comically large knife on the table and smiled at each of them far too long to appear completely sane. “Anyone got a problem with that?”

All but one of them shook their heads, muttering politely. The one Lily could only assume was the “sweet potato”—soft dark curls, enormous green eyes, and full, ruddy cheeks—swallowed audibly, whispering, “No, ma’ams.”

The lone holdout crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back, and let out a single dry laugh.

“Question?” Lily asked him. He was relatively fit, early thirties, wearing an expression of unmasked disdain. They almost always had at least one of these: men who came out here thinking they knew everything, that she and Nic were just two cutie-pies playing at being tough.

They got over these misconceptions by the end of the trip.

“I’m good.” He sucked on his teeth and gave her a brief once-over. “Just sitting here being respectful, sweetheart.”

“Glad to hear it.” Lily clapped her hands, wishing they could skip this next part. On instinct she looked to Leo, startled to find his dark, direct gaze pinning her. Eye contact was a streak of fire shimmering through her from head to toe. She felt her neck heat.

Damn it.

Blinking away, she looked to the sweet potato, who was wearing a bright orange shirt with bold green letters spelling HOWDY!

“Why don’t we go around, and you can tell me your names,” Lily said, “a little about your riding experience, and what you hope to get out of this trip, so we can make sure it happens. Walter?” She looked around at each of them. “Why don’t you start?”

“That’s me,” Sweet Potato said, raising a hand and then dabbing at his mouth with the corner of a paper napkin. “Walter Gibb. A little experience riding when I was a kid but haven’t been on a horse for a long time.” He cleared his throat. “I’m a Gemini and single, and I work as a pet health and wellness facilitator—”

“He manages a Petco,” the Beard cut in with a sneer.

“Is your name Walter?” Lily asked.

He looked up at her, annoyed but confused. “No? I’m Terry.”

“Then I suggest you stop interrupting and wait until the name Terry is called. Sound good?” He gave Lily a gruff look but, unfazed, she turned back to Walter. “Go ahead. Tell us a little about your hobbies.”

“I have a small plot in a community garden,” he said, shrugging. “Mostly lettuces and flowers. Tomatoes.” He looked skyward, thinking. “I have brunch with Leo and his sister, Cora, on Sundays, but otherwise I don’t have a ton of regular activities.”

Lily’s heart pinched painfully at this mention of Leo’s life back in New York, but she pushed past it. “And what are you hoping to get out of this trip?”