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The crunch of snow sounded closer and closer before the muzzle of a horse was above me. Kip leaned down and sniffed my face, her soft nose tickling my skin, and I giggled again. Then Weston’s face appeared beside his horse.
“That was amazing,” I said, letting my arms flop to my side.
Weston grinned, and I studied his face. I’d previously admitted to myself that he was an attractive man, but there was something more now. Something free about him.
“Round two?” he asked, and I nodded vigorously.
Each kid got a turn before I went again, but didn’t last as long. Weston had learned from my first ride and improved his ability to throw me off. However, after a second round for everyone, the kids asked for the four-wheeler. Apparently, unbeknownst to me until we passed through the flat field we’d just been at and continued farther on to a new patch of snow, most of them barely held on for more than a couple seconds when Weston broke out the four-wheeler.
After moving higher into the mountains, we emerged at a new spot. There were some slopes here, but nothing hard, nothing but the trees that thickly surrounded this hidden sanctuary. Fresh, untouched powder glistened across the meadow. Perfect for throwing kids from a sled behind a four-wheeler without hurting anyone.
This time, two sleds were tied to the back of the vehicle. Keaton laid down upon one while Butch hopped on the other. I stared at the two boys that had the same wicked grins spread across their lips. Weston sat upon the idling wheeler, a devilish look in his eyes, which also held a look of wonder and childlike joy.
“Whoever falls off first has to do the other’s morning chores tomorrow,” Keaton bet Butch who pulled his hat on a little tighter.
“Deal,” he replied, and they looked at Weston.
Weston’s ocean eyes raised to mine. “Get on,” he said, patting the spot behind him and moving the shotgun that was hooked across the back of the wheeler out of the way. I blushed. My cheeks burned red-hot, and I wasn’t even sure why. Maybe it was because Annie beside me sighed audibly like it was something cute, or the fact that I hadn’t been that close to Weston since waking up wrapped in his arms. Either way, I hesitated for a moment before sheepishly climbing on behind him.
“Hold on, darling.” He whispered, and I threw my arms tightly around his waist. My heart slammed in my chest, holding myself this close to him made my stomach swim with butterflies.
He gunned the four-wheeler, and it jumped, ripping through the snow. Within two turns, Keaton and Butch went flying in opposite directions at the exact same time. They weren’t kidding when they said Weston was crazy with the wheeler. The horse had just been a warmup for him.
I rode behind Weston, clinging tightly to his solid body for quite some time as the kids each bet one another who’d stay on the longest. The smiles that were permanently etched onto their faces were unmatched in time. Eventually, most of them became tired and cold and wandered down the mountainside to go warm up before dinner began. Keaton and Butch remained with Weston and me.
Putting the four-wheeler into park, Weston tapped my hands that were around his waist. “Your turn.”
I grinned. Despite my earlier reservations, this was the most fun I could recall in such a long time. And even if I could only hold on for two or three seconds, that was enough. But I was a little competitive and glanced at Butch and Keaton, who eagerly waited to take my place on the back of the four-wheeler.
“Ten bucks says I can last longer than either of you two did.” My feet hit the snowy ground, tingling with contact.
“Bring it on!” they said at the same time and hopped on the back of the wheeler, dangling their legs off either side and clutching tightly to the bars while pushing the shotgun back towards Weston. I waded through the snow, untied one of the sleds and plopped myself down on the other. Tucking my chin once more and gripping tightly to the edge of the plastic, I bobbled a few times to settle in tighter before nodding that I was ready.
The speed with which Weston took off had the sled in the air from the first bump. I think I was in the air more than I was actually touching the snow. It was intense as I crashed back and forth between snow and icy patches, spinning to the side. And I barely lasted for more than just a few turns before the sled went one way, and I was flying through the air in the other direction.
Crashing into the snow, my sleeve rode up and my arm made contact with the crispy cold as it slid up under my coat. But I didn’t care. That was amazing, and I wanted another round. Sitting up, I pulled my sleeve back down and began dusting off the snow. The tree line was practically sitting against my back; my body had narrowly missed ramming into a trunk.
The engine roared closer to me and then stopped some yards away, the three boys looking quite smug. Weston killed the engine as Keaton and Butch swung around in my direction. I shrugged and tilted my head, placing my hands against the ground to stand up when all three boys froze.
Fear laced Keaton and Butch’s faces, while Weston’s tightened and became intense. Almost aggressive. The wheels started spinning in his head as I froze in shocked response. It was deathly silent out here. Every noise that normally chirped from the forest, every creak of a branch from the breeze whistling through the leaves was vacant, and I knew there was something wrong.
“Tenley. Do not move. Do not turn around,” Weston quietly commanded between gritted teeth, his body stiff, and slowly rising from his seated position. He inched upwards, barely making a sound with his movement.
I swallowed the lump that was forming thick in my throat. Sweat pooled against my skin despite the cold as dread filled my soul. Any sense of excitement had rushed out, leaving nothing but terror in its place.
“Weston,” I whispered, blinking in fright without knowing why I was afraid. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up as if someone or something was behind me.
Slowly, Weston reached around behind him and carefully began to slip the shotgun from the scabbard. A shotgun I hadn’t given more than two thoughts about. I stared at that man’s face, pleading with him to take this panic away. But his eyes weren’t looking at me. He was staring over my shoulder at something. The thing that was causing the stench of fear to hang stiffly in the air.
“Weston,” I whispered in terror again.
His eyes flickered to mine as he swung the shotgun around and began to pull one leg over the seat. “I’m going to count to three, and then you need to slowly, very slowly and as quietly as possible, stand up and come my way,” he quietly said, his voice barely reaching my ears. I gave him a subtle, quick nod. My entire body was trembling as his eyes returned to whatever was past me.
“One,” he whispered, his legs now on the same side of the four-wheeler.
“Two.” He slowly stepped down from the wheeler as Keaton and Butch remained frozen in place. His eyes reached mine and the intensity in them had me nearly backing away. My heart was racing in my throat, the pounding of blood rushed through my ears. It was becoming warm.
“Three.”
