“I’m fine. I just need a second.”
I press my lips together and nod, even though he’s not looking at me.
A great start to making things right between us.
When he finally stands upright, his eyes are watering.
And his nose is bleeding.
“Shit,” I mutter. “Okay, you wait here. I’m going to go get tissues. Or something.”
The entire sprint back to the small building where Aunt Naomi has set up base, I’m grateful I was smart enough to wear my thrifted Frye boots, the kind that can handle a little hay and dirt. Once I’m there, I grab a whole box of tissues and sprint back.
When I get to the trailer, Cooper is finishing apologizing to everyone for the delay. He’s plugging his nose as he makes his way over to me.
He points to my mud-covered feet. “Your boots are ruined.”
“I’m not worried about them. Your nose, on the other hand…” I pull three tissues from the box and hand them to him.
Cooper takes the tissues from me. “My nose will be fine.”
I shake my head. “I’m really sorry.”
“Please stop apologizing.” Cooper shoves a tissue up each nostril until they’re stretched wide and white is hanging out. A laugh bursts out of me, and Cooper smiles. “First you bust my nose; then you laugh at me for bleeding. Damn, Mitchell, you’re brutal.”
“Sor—”
He slaps his hand over my mouth. “Don’t say it.”
I nod and he moves his hand. “Good thing I wore a black shirt today, I guess.”
We both look down at the darker spot from where he used his shirt as a tissue before I got back.
“If you hadn’t, we could have just told everyone this was a haunted hayride.”
He grins. “True. Okay, you ready?”
“Maybe I should stay back.”
“Nope.” He grabs my hand and pulls me toward the front of the trailer. “We’re going to turn this day around.”
He helps me up onto the bench seat behind the horses, then climbs up and sits beside me. He makes an announcement to the people in the trailer behind us, letting them know we’re about to go, then takes the reins.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” I ask.
“Nope,” he says. “This is my first time ever driving this thing, but I’m sure we’ll survive.”
I look at him. With tissues hanging out of his widened nostrils, he looks completely unserious despite his serious expression. “Don’t mess with me, Cooper Barnett.”
He laughs. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve done this every year since I was thirteen. Before that, I rode with my dad. Stop worrying.”
I hold on to the railing beside me. “Okay.”
Cooper clucks his tongue and gently slaps the reins against Ink’s and Coffee’s backs, and we’re off.
The horses pull us down a dirt path lined with trees. I smile at the gentle clacking of hooves as we ride beneath canopies of red, yellow, and orange. A gentle breeze sweeps through the trees, and colorful leaves fall like rain all around us. I laugh, and when I turn to Cooper, he’s watching me with a smile.
“You’re like a little kid,” he says.
