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The riders dismounted and stood, waiting in a haphazard line while Grayson set up the highline with the help of several of the men.
Ah, see? Fostering teamwork was a bonus.
“Would you hold these horses?” Beth snagged a couple helpers on their way back from the highline. “I want to get that fire started for us.” Several of the younger riders hovered around the picnic shelter’s dark, empty brick fireplace.
“Sure.” They stepped up to hold the pack horses, Maverick, and Rex.
“How can we help?” Marvin and Jessica Jaspers stepped up. The woman’s dark hair was plastered to her skull, and both of them walked a little bowlegged. She wasn’t sure if it was from soreness or the cold, wet pant legs.
“You should find downed pieces of dry limbs under that tree line.” She pointed past the last horse. “Can you haul several chunks over to the fireplace?”
They nodded and met her back at the brick expanse with wood a short time later.
“Anything I can do?” Colleen stepped up next to Beth, her arms wrapped around her drenched torso.
“Sorry—you’ve gotten more than you bargained for on this excursion.”
Colleen shook her head. “Builds character, right?”
Beth laughed. “Right. That’ll be our tagline for the next camp. ‘Join Trinity Family Horse Camp. We build character through all nature’s elements.’” Beth scraped away the cobwebs and placed the wood into the fireplace like a log-cabin square, then added the kindling to the center. “Can you find me some dry twigs and leaves?” she asked Colleen, who returned a few minutes later with mostly dry tinder. “Perfect.”
Beth added them to the center and pulled her weatherproof matchbox out.
Please light.
A flicker—then a breeze snuffed her flame. She lit a second one, this time holding her hand around the delicate light until the tinder smoked and burst into flame.
A whoop startled her. She looked up to see the smiling faces of the riders, who applauded.
Go her. She could start a fire.
Clearly, expectations had been lowered. Well, she’d take it. They hadn’t mutinied, or whatever it was called when cowboys raised resistance and rebelled.
For the first time since last night’s campfire, conversation buzzed again as the riders each shared their tales of woe from the grand adventure.
See? It built character. And with the dark clouds pushing west, there was something celebratory in the air.
“Nice work. You’re a regular Girl Scout,” Grayson said. His warm breath tickled her neck. Made her smile.
“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you—we should have turned back.”
“I was feeling a little panicked.” His gaze flicked away. “Storms and I aren’t good friends.”
“I should have thought of that.”
“It’s okay. We got through it and it worked out. You want to snag a couple people to help unpack the lunches? By the time everyone is dry and fed and happy, these will just be funny stories to recount.” He smiled. “See that? I’m working on trusting God’s plan.”
“You must have had a conversation with Noah and Anne.”
He nodded.
“Sure, I can do that. I’m looking forward to food, sunshine, and putting this sad, awful, soggy morning behind us too.”
“Exactly.” He nodded toward the gear stowed under the trees. “I’m going to round up a few hands to water and feed the horses, then help me dry off the saddles.”
“Before I grab the food, do you have extra line? I want to string a clothesline for outerwear.”
“Excellent idea.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and reached into his back pocket, then handed her a bundle of extra line. Smiled.
