The next twenty minutes were a blur of instruction. How to start it, how to shift weight, how to brake. They were patient, taking turns explaining different aspects, correcting gently when I made mistakes.
“You’re a natural,” Gage said when I successfully completed a circle around the barn lot.
“I haven’t crashed yet. That’s all I’m going for.”
They laughed, and the sound wrapped around me like a blanket.
“Ready to actually ride?” Trace asked.
My heart pounded. “Where?”
“Up into the hills. There’s a trail we’ve been riding since we were teenagers. Beautiful views, easy terrain for a first-timer.”
I looked at my quad. My quad! God, I had a quad. What else could I do but nod? “Let’s do it.”
#
Riding up into the hills behind the ranch was surreal. I stayed in the middle of their formation, Booker leading, Trace behind me, Xander and Gage flanking. Protected without being smothered.
The trail wound through trees and open meadows, climbing gradually. The quads handled beautifully, and after the initial terror wore off, I started to actually enjoy it. The speed, the freedom, the wind in my hair. I hadn’t even peed my pants, which had been a particular concern at one point.
Then we crested a hill, and suddenly the whole valley spread out below us. Willowbrook in the distance, the ranch property stretching out in patches of green and gold, mountains rising beyond.
“Wow,” I breathed.
“Best view in the county,” Xander said, pulling up beside me. “We’ve been coming here since we were kids.”
Booker had stopped ahead at a clearing where someone had left a massive picnic basket on a blanket spread in the shade of a large oak tree. If I had to put money on it, I was guessing Reece. Blake had a chaotic energy about that made me think she’d leave us with just coffee and chips.
“Reece packed lunch,” Booker said, that quiet smile on his face. “Said we’d need sustenance for corrupting you properly.”
We settled on the blanket, and they unpacked enough food to feed an army. Sandwiches, fruit, chips, cookies, thermoses of lemonade.
“So,” Trace said, biting into a sandwich, “first quad ride. How are you feeling?”
“Terrified and exhilarated.” I took a drink. “Mostly terrified.”
“That’s normal,” Gage assured me. “Xander crashed into a fence his first time out.”
“I was eight,” Xander protested. “And it was Gage’s fault.”
“How was it my fault?”
“You dared me to do a jump.”
“I dared you to do asmalljump. You decided to go for the big one.”
I watched them bicker, this easy back-and-forth that spoke of years of history. Years I’d missed.
“What about you?” I asked Booker. “Any embarrassing first ride stories?”
He considered. “I was the cautious one. Did everything by the book. Drove Trace crazy because I wouldn’t go fast enough.”
“He was also ten,” Trace added. “The rest of us were younger and dumber.”
“Speak for yourself,” Xander said. “I was younger andsmarter.”
“You crashed into a fence.”
