He drove toward Red Boot ranch, and for a hopeful moment Fern imagined they were headed to grab horses.
Instead, he took them on an old forestry road that twisted high into the foothills, and not even Cody’s sturdy old blue Ford could eliminate the bumping and rattling beneath them.
Fern braced herself to stop from bouncing too far.Her breath kept catching every time he shot her that sideways grin.The one that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made her stomach swoop as if they’d hit a hidden pothole.
Although on this road, it was up in the air which was the actual cause of the butterflies in her belly.
“Question,” she said brightly, gripping the edge of her seat as they bobbed over another rut.“Should I be worried you’re driving me this far from civilization?”
Cody snorted.“Trust me, sweetheart.If I wanted to hide your body, there are spots closer to home.”
“Comforting,” Fern deadpanned.
She let her head fall back against the seat and watched the early sunlight flicker through the tall pines overhead.Temperatures were crisp at this elevation, cool enough if she leaned toward the window, she thought it might fog up.
When he turned off the main gravel onto an even narrower track, Fern raised an eyebrow.“This is an official road, right?”
“Defineofficial.”
“Does it appear on a map?”
“Maybe averyold one.”
Fern bit back a laugh as the truck lurched and rocked its way through the underbrush, branches whispering across the windows.“You’re the worst tour guide ever.”
“Funny, because I haven’t heard you ask to turn back yet.”
She didn’t, either.
When the trees finally parted, opening to a small meadow ringed by rocks and stubby spruce, Cody killed the engine then reached behind the seat to grab a battered old knapsack.
“Come on,” he said, grinning at her.“Don’t look so suspicious.Five-minute walk.I promise it’s worth it.”
They clambered out, boots crunching over dry pine cones and loose needles.Fern tugged her coat tighter.The early morning mountain air had a bite to it, but the sunshine made it sparkle too.
She followed him up a faint game trail, half tripping when he turned to catch her hand and tug her up the last rocky rise.
Then she saw them.
Below the ridge, a shallow, winding stream cut through a wide clearing dotted with wild rose bushes and bleached logs.On the far side, grazing calmly, were horses.
Not ranch stock.Not branded.Lean, shaggy creatures with long manes and wary eyes that lifted as she and Cody paused, still as fence posts.
Fern’s breath caught so hard it burned.“Are they?—”
“Wild?”Cody murmured, his voice soft against her temple.“Yeah.Or feral, technically.Been a few bands roaming these foothills forever.They stay up here if they’ve got enough grass.They gave us grief a few years ago, drifting onto Red Boot land.They’ve been staying on their side of the fence since then, so now it’s a pleasure to see them.”
Fern pressed a hand over her mouth, like the awe might spill out too loudly if she didn’t.Below, a black mare flicked her tail and nudged a bright bay foal closer to her side.
“They’re beautiful,” Fern whispered.
“Figured you’d think so.”Cody’s arm slid around her waist, anchoring her when her knees went a little soft.“Found them two weeks ago when I came up hunting strays.”
She turned in his arms just enough to catch his grin.“You brought me here to seethis?”
“Yup.”
“Cody, this is…” She searched for the word.Found it lodged somewhere deep and soft in her chest.“Perfect.”
