Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 754(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
“Not here,” I said, my own voice filled with the heady arousal pounding between my legs. We’d find a camp, and we’d spread out our sleeping bags. We’d have the whole night. With a shiver of desperate anticipation, I quickly swung my leg around him, scooted back, and then dismounted the horse. He jumped down easily too and turned toward me, smoothing a few pieces of hair back from my face. He looked slightly drugged and maybe feverish as well, and though I appreciated the horse for the thrilling ride she’d just given us, I needed to get her to a safe spot so we could pick up where we’d just left off. “Do you think that’s her ranch?” I asked, pointing next to us where the other horses roamed, nibbling on bales of hay sitting in various spots around the corral.
Tuck’s vision seemed to clear, and he tilted his head slightly as he watched the horses. “There are bales of hay all over. And their pen is open,” he said, pointing to where I now saw a wide-open gate.
He took the horse’s reins in his hand and began leading her to the corral. “Why would they leave their gate open?”
“Possibly because they left and weren’t sure they’d return and wanted to give the horses a way out when the food was gone. Or at least, that’s what I’d do,” he muttered.
I removed our backpacks from where they’d been draped, and Tuck took off the horse’s bridle, rubbing her down with his hand before she wandered over to a bale of hay. There was a water trough near the fence that appeared connected to a rain barrel, that another horse stood drinking from.
Tuck paused and looked around, obviously considering what to do with the bridle in his hand. “The stable door is open,” I said, pointing across the way. We walked through the corral, and into the dim stable, the last of the light illuminating the entrance, but casting the back in shadow. Tuck set the bridle down just as I spotted something taped to the wall on my left. I removed it, read quickly, and handed it to Tuck.
“It’s a list of the horse’s names next to descriptions,” he said. “‘If you take one of our horses, we beg you to please treat them well. They are loved.’” Tuck lowered the note. “They did leave, then,” he said. “Temporarily, at least.”
I briefly wondered why, but realized I didn’t have to. All over the country, people were either trying to get to safety, or attempting to make it to the people they loved. As this ranch was far away from any major metropolitan area and somewhat tucked behind some hills, the owners wouldn’t have to worry much about safety, especially if they were armed. They’d have a good view of anyone approaching from all directions, and they’d have time to prepare. Of course, it was possible they’d run out of food and been forced to head out to search for some, but I thought it was more likely that they’d left to find a family member. It made a lump form in my throat to consider the choices people had had to make, willing to leave safety behind for love.
We left the stables and walked around the front of the house. The front door was locked, but when we rounded the corner of the house and found a side door that led into an attached garage, Tuck turned the knob and pulled it open. He stood there still for a moment, his body blocking the interior. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“What?” I asked, moving around him and stepping inside. I let out a giddy laugh of disbelief, turning to look at him with wide eyes before bringing my gaze back at the classic yellow car.
“It looks like there was one parked next to it,” I said, nodding to the empty spot where a canvas cover like the ones my dad had used to protect his cars had been discarded. “Whoever lives in that house had to have taken one of the cars and left.”
He moved around the yellow car and then tried the knob on a door that likely led into the house, finding it unlocked too. “Hello?” he shouted inside. Only silence returned, though he still shouted hello one more time to the same result. “Look,” he said, walking toward a pegboard on the wall where a singular key was hung. “Holy shit.” He plucked it off the board and held it up.
“Do you think it’ll work?” Had we really gotten this lucky?
“There’s only one way to find out.” He opened the driver’s side door, and I quickly rounded the car and got in on the passenger side as he was turning the key in the ignition. It rattled, and sputtered, and when it caught, rumbling to life, I let out a gleeful squeal as I clapped my hands together. “It runs! Oh my God. Tuck.”