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Her green eyes met his, more lucid now, swirling with curiosity.
Her color had returned to an outdoorsy tan, though she looked positively small in the hospital bed.
“What did the doctor say?” Dylan asked. “Whoa—is that blood on your head?”
“No, it’s not.” She rubbed her temple. “It’s only heat exhaustion. They put me on fluids. Can you cut me loose?”
Dylan held up his hands. “Slow down. Heat exhaustion? Is that serious?”
“I’m fine, but I need a ride home.” Her eyes stayed on the hospital blanket. She swallowed and looked up at Grayson. “Thank you.”
“Sure.”
She opened her mouth as if to say more, but her phone buzzed inside her purse. She drew it out of her bag, hit the button, and stared at it a moment. Then her mouth dropped into that same little O like when they were kids. “No way.”
“Did you make the front-page news?” Dylan asked. He sat in the guest chair near the bed.
“It’s a message from Noah,” she said. She thumbed a message on her phone. “Wait, what?” She groaned. “He says…” She continued scrolling what was eitherMoby Dickor the world’s longest text message. “He says the new camp wrangler has arrived and brought the three camp horses he’d bought, and there isn’t an assistant wrangler because, in Jesse’s absence, it was forgotten.”
She frantically typed back. “What is he talking about a new camp wrangler? Jesse is supposed to be back this coming week.” She looked up from her phone, a deep furrow cutting her brow. “This can’t be happening.” Her phone buzzed again, and she looked down at it. “Great. He says Jesse had complications and he forgot to tell me he’d made other arrangements.” She put her fingers to her lips, tapping them as she waited for his next message. “And the three new horses are of questionable use for the camp.” She tossed her phone down. “He used the wordwild.” She pressed both palms over her eyes before slumping against the pillows.
Grayson’s heart sank. This was bad. Oh so very, very bad. He shifted, a new level of unease twining through him. “Why’s he telling you?”
Dylan scooted forward in the chair. “Beth’s the new assistant camp director.”
“Interim,” she said, sitting back up and folding her arms across her chest.
Grayson closed his eyes. Oh boy. Noah had failed to tell him that little tidbit.
“I’m the interim assistant camp director. I’ve got to earn the permanent slot.” She sat back up and adjusted the blankets. “And at this rate, I won’t have a job even doing that.” She looked back to the phone. “Wild horses? No assistant? And now, some new camp wrangler?”
Grayson peeled his tongue from the dry roof of his mouth. “It’s me.” He cleared his throat.
“What’s you?” Beth asked.
“I’m the wrangler he hired for the summer.” He swallowed and braved a look at Beth.
The color drained from her face. She opened her mouth. Closed it. Looked at Dylan.
Her brother shrugged his shoulder. “Don’t look at me. How would I have known that?”
Grayson held up his hands. Jobless and homeless for the moment, he didn’t have a lot of options. “Let’s table it for now. We can talk to Noah.”
Beth scrubbed her hands over her face. “What am I going to do?”
“What is there for you to do?” Dylan Grabbed a pack of crackers off the tray table next to the bed.
Beth looked Grayson up and down like he was the last sad beast at the auction. And she wasn’t buying.
He resisted the urge to squirm.
“I can’t work with him.”
“We don’t have to actually work together. You do your thing, I’ll do mine.”
Dylan shifted. “He’s right. You’re both grown-ups, and Noah needs you both.” He unwrapped the crackers. “Elineeds you both—he’s been waiting months for this camp.”
Grayson pictured the spunky blond kid he’d seen the last time he’d come to town. The boy had only been around four.
