Page 21 of Wild and Wrangled

She nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She turned to Dusty. “Bye, Dusty.”

“See you, Chloe. I’m weeding your grandma’s yard this weekend if you want to help,” he said with a grin.

“Unlike you, I can park there to hike without feeling like I need to do manual labor, so I’ll pass,” Chloe called back as she walked away.

Dusty brought his attention back to me. “So,” he said, “are your parents here or anything?”

I shook my head. “They don’t really come to my games,” I said. “My dad, um, works a lot, and my mom doesn’t like soccer.”

“Oh,” Dusty said. He looked confused by that. “But they’ll be happy that you won, right? And that you scored a goal?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll, um, tell them later.”

“So, if they’re not here, can I give you a ride home?”

“Um,” I said. I had a driver’s license—I just didn’t have a car. Usually, my parents had my driver—Matthew—drive me to andfrom school and everything else. I didn’t know how they’d react to a boy dropping me off. Maybe they wouldn’t notice? I pulled out my phone, flipped it open, and sent a quick text to Matthew, letting him know that I didn’t need a ride home.

“Sure,” I said. “Yeah. Just let me get my bag.” Dusty walked over to the sidelines with me, and when he saw my number on my duffel, he picked it up and slung it over his shoulder.

Before we started walking, he looked at me, and his eyes narrowed a little bit. “Is your hair naturally curly?” he asked. I normally straightened it for school, so Dusty hadn’t seen it before. I frantically tried to smooth my ponytail and tuck the stray ringlets behind my ears. “No, don’t,” he said as he grabbed my wrist softly. “I like it.”

Chapter 11

Cam

Emmy came with me to see the house. Gus had taken Riley on a snowy trail ride through Rebel Blue this morning and had planned for them to eat dinner with his dad, so I was officially off mom duty for the afternoon and evening. Though I guess finding a place to live for my child and me is still mom duty.

I had been worried about how Riley would deal with the move and the absence of Graham, but so far, it has been okay. I think going between my place and Gus’s house throughout her life made her a little more adaptable. She was a curious kid and asked a lot of questions about why Graham wasn’t coming with us or why I wasn’t married when I said I was going to be. Both Gus and I went with the “sometimes things don’t work out” explanation, which, thankfully, seemed to work.

The Wilson house was only ten minutes from the entrance of Rebel Blue. It was placed perfectly between there and town. It had neighbors but not close ones. Also, if you walkedthrough the trees in the backyard, you’d end up at one of Meadowlark’s best trailheads that led to so many trail systems, you’d never run out of things to explore. Riley would love it. But I couldn’t get ahead of myself.

Emmy drove her truck down the long gravel driveway—the house was tucked back in an alcove. You’d never see it if you didn’t know it was there. The driveway was framed by evergreens, which were currently dusted with snow.

After a few minutes, a powder blue house came into view. It was a classic craftsman with gorgeous lines and a large front porch—complete with a swing. The yard around it was covered in more than a foot of snow, but I knew it was big, and in the summer, teeming with greenery and flowers and buzzing with bumblebees.

The truck rolled to a stop in front of the house, right next to a flashy Mercedes SUV, which was probably Ed’s. Emmy cut the engine, and quiet filled the cab in place of Chris Stapleton.

I sat with the quiet, grateful that Emmy did, too. I used to long for quiet, but lately, I had felt afraid of it. There were so many things waiting inside of it that I had to face. But I was happy to stay here—just for a second.

“Ready?” Emmy asked softly. Instead of answering, I pushed open the passenger door and let the cold bite at the exposed skin on my face, neck, and hands. I hated winter, but I loved the way that the air hit my lungs with a jolting refresh. I needed that right now.

My feet hit the gravel as Emmy walked around the front of her truck and looped her arm through mine as we walked toward the stairs, steadying me.

“You feel okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Just don’t want to get my hopes up, you know?”

“Let’s manifest the Teddy Andersen approach to life: Only have a Plan A and trust everything works out,” she said with a light laugh.

We walked up the stairs, and Emmy knocked on the door. I heard footsteps approach from inside.

A few seconds later, Ed Wyatt opened the door. He had dark brown hair and was wearing a suit that didn’t quite fit right. That was one skill being an Ashwood gave me—I could spot a bad suit from a mile away.

“Ed, hi!” Emmy said. “How are you?”

“Good to see you, Emmy,” he said with an outstretched hand, which Emmy took. He looked at me, then, and said, “You’re Camille?”

“That’s me,” I said, trying to keep my voice light.

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