“It’s fitting I’m riding an Arabian,” Terry said out of nowhere, dragging two fingers over his dusty mustache. He kept moving his horse to the front of the group, and Lily kept telling him to fall back in line.
“Calypso is an American quarter horse,” Nicole cut in breezily.
“Given that in ancient times,” Terry continued, ignoring her, “Arabians were reserved only for men to ride.”
“Do you just make bullshit up all day long?” Nic asked. Clearly she had already entered the Tired of a Guest’s Garbage phase. It had barely been twelve hours; a new record.
“It’s not bullshit.” Terry took a long pause to clear his throat and launched a thick ball of phlegm to the side. “The Arabian bloodline is the only pure bloodline left in existence.”
“That’s—no.” It was the first thing Leo had said in hours. “There are lots of other pure-blood breeds, Terry.”
“He’s right,” Nicole said, impressed.
Walter angled himself in the saddle to glance back at him. “Did you learn that when you worked on the ranch, Leo?”
Leo’s eyes briefly flickered to Lily, then away. “I—well—”
“Ease up on Calypso’s reins, Terry,” she interrupted, saving them both. But she was relieved to discover that Leo hadn’t tipped his friends off to what had gone down between them years ago. She suspected it was just a matter of time before the other three figured it out, but the longer she had without them gossiping about her, looking at her differently, the better.
Terry huffed out an annoyed breath. “Calypso is a mare who needs a strong hand.”
“She’s my horse,” Lily reminded him, “and you’ll ease up or you’ll walk the rest of the way on your own feet.”
“Today is our shortest day on horseback,” Nic said, glancing nervously between Lily and Leo before turning her attention to the rest of the group. “In part because you’ll be sore. We’ll reach tonight’s camp in about a mile or so.”
“Another mile?” Bradley whimpered and tried to find a comfortable position in the saddle. “I already can’t feel my balls.”
Just as he said it, they came around a bend and the second night’s camp came into breathtaking view in the distance: a dramatic outcropping of wavy brilliant-red rock hugging a small open pasture of russet earth and clumps of spiky green sagebrush. Lily squinted to see the four hay bales with fresh targets for the archery competition and four others with iron bullhorns protruding for the lassoing. In a locked chest nearby, there’d be four sets of locks to pick, four books with code to solve, and four slide puzzles.
Usually, this was Lily’s favorite day of the trip. It was the first full day out in the crisp air and unreal landscape. Everyone was excited to be riding but happy to get off the horse after only a couple of hours. Guests were getting used to the idea that they’d done this for fun, gamely ready for adventure until the end. Tonight’s dinner, chili and cornbread, was Lily’s specialty. She loved the games, loved watching the guests with their newfound confidence, loved the usually friendly competition. But this time, she was filled with vague dread because whatever Terry thought was going to happen when the games came out, he was mistaken. He’d probably never seen Leo in this element.
They reached camp in a lazy, dragging single-file line, the horses faking being tired so they could get their treats, the men genuinely sore and overheated. All except Leo, whose posture remained straight and balanced atop Ace. Damn if he didn’t look like he was made to ride that horse.
While Lily dismounted and headed to retrieve lunch items from the cooler dropped ahead for them, Nicole guided them over to the short fence where the horses would be tied for the night and have easy access to shade and grass and water. The men climbed down with varying degrees of grace; Leo slid easily from Ace and tied him loosely to the post. Lily ripped her eyes away just in time to catch Terry falling in a tumble and landing on his ass with a satisfyingly rough impact. He pretended to have done it intentionally as he plucked out a long piece of grass and stuck it between his teeth.
“The horses pee over there,” Lily told him. “Just so you know.”
Terry dropped the grass.
Her attention was drawn like a magnet to the left, to where Leo stretched out sore muscles and his shirt rode up. She wanted to look away, she really tried to, but it was like that small, exposed swath of honeyed skin had her eyes under some Vulcan death grip. When he turned to begin taking the saddle off Ace, the fabric of his shirt stretched taut across his back muscles.