Something Wilder
“She’s scary, but I kind of dig it,” Walter stage-whispered to Leo, who, she noted, managed to hide any reaction at all to this.
Picking up a backpack identical to the ones she’d left in each of their tents last night, Lily began to unload it. “You’ve each been given a pack filled with things you’ll need. You can use the one provided or your own, but if you use yours, make sure to move every single thing over, including the sleeping bag on your cot. You’ll need it all. Anything you want to leave behind will be locked up securely in the tack shed.”
She smoothed a map flat on the table’s surface. A glance around reassured her that she had everyone’s attention, including Leo’s. It was an enlarged printout of one of the dozens of maps Duke had drawn in his lifetime. Her father knew the American Southwest better than almost anyone, and his expertise had been wildly in demand. Too bad it had rarely been lucrative. At least, not for him. Museums benefited, native lands were returned their artifacts, but Duke was never in it for the money. He might have received a small finder’s fee to help pay the bills, but it was the thrill of the chase that excited him, untangling clues and slowly unearthing history. It was the hunt.
Lily tapped the printout near the ridge where Duke had once carefully written the word Horseshoe. “This is where we are now.” She slid her finger down along the trail, pointing out some of the stops. “Tonight, we’ll camp at the edge of the spur in Robbers Roost, then on to French Spring below Hans Flat.
“Now, this part is important.” She pulled out another map of the area with elevation lines; there were a lot of them. “Stay away from the edge of any canyon. I guarantee it’s not as solid as it looks, and you’re not as athletic and steady on your feet as you think. Don’t learn the hard way.”
Eyes wide with mild terror, Walter nodded earnestly.
“Throughout the trip, you’ll get to solve some clues and use your maps to find the path and eventually find the treasure.” She straightened. “We’ll talk more about the rest as we go, but first things first, we’re getting you acquainted with your horses. I want everyone to roll up their tents and pack while we clean up breakfast, and then meet us at the corral. Does anyone need a good pair of boots?”
The men shook their heads, murmuring quiet nos. Only one person remained noticeably silent.
Leo ran uneasy hands over the thighs of his jeans, finally admitting, “I do.”
The last thing Lily wanted right off the bat was a reason to talk to him alone. “Right.” Her voice was sharp; Leo knew how important good boots were out here. “Get your stuff packed and meet me in the tack shed near the horses.”
He blinked at her, no doubt hearing the razor in her tone. “Okay.”
Lily began stuffing everything back into the pack and noticed that everyone was chitchatting, lingering over their cold coffee. “What are y’all waiting for? You need me to carry you?”
They scattered, but Nicole stood there, quietly studying her. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”
Lily glanced at her and then away. “?‘Going on’?”
Nic’s blue eyes went wide, and she pushed her hair off her forehead. “Oh, we’re playing the bullshit game?”
It wasn’t worth trying to keep this from her. “I know him.”
“The quiet one.” It wasn’t even a question.
“Yeah. Leo.” She looked down at her boots and dragged a line in the dirt.
Surprised, Nic straightened and looked back over her shoulder. “Holy shit. That’s him? It’s that Leo? From the ranch?”
“Yeah.”
“Did he track you down?”
Lily was already shaking her head. “I’d bet Bonnie that he had no idea I’d be here.”
Nic sized her up quietly. “Should I worry?”
“What? No, I’m fine,” Lily assured her. “It was forever ago. It’s fine. I’m really fine.”
“Sounds like it’s fine,” she said dryly.
They both knew it was a lie, but Nic didn’t bother to ask again.
Chapter Six
LEO WALKED TO his tent in a daze, heart racing and palms clammy. With every step, his feet landed unsteadily on the ground—he felt like he’d walked onto a moving platform or into a wormhole. Seeing Lily wasn’t unlike being transported back to that first day at the Wilder Ranch, when she’d emerged from the barn and his world had instantly tipped upside down.
Except this time there was no anticipation, no immediate head rush of a dream that this woman could someday want him—only the stark recollection that he’d had the perfect love once and had pushed her away.
He was supposed to be packing, but instead he sat heavily down inside his tent, shell-shocked. Leo hadn’t heard her voice since the morning she’d called him, checking in when he’d failed to. He hated how brusque and sharp he’d been—he’d tried to reach her later, tried to fix it, but by then it was too late.