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Near Misses & Cowboy Kisses

Page 49

by Katrina Emmel

Colton guides us past the post office/Pony Express station where I sketched the picture for him earlier.

“I loved the monarch and milkweed,” Colton tells me with a lopsided smile that sends my heart billowing like the dust we leave in our wake. “Your art is amazing.”

From the tone of his voice, I can tell he really means it. “Thanks,” I say, my chest swelling with pride.

We take a right down a quiet lane, where Colton and I meet a group of tourists with a handful of elementary school-aged kids.

“Excuse me,” says an older man. “Would you mind taking a picture?”

“Sure,” I say, thinking he wants me to snap a photo of the group in front of the post office. Turns out, he wants me and Colton to pose with the kids.

“Are we supposed to pretend that we don’t know what a camera is? Or that we’re worried that we’ll lose our souls if we have our picture taken?” I whisper to Colton.

“What?” he asks, giving me side-eye.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “We visited a living history museum on a family vacation once when I was ten, and the people there pretended they didn’t know what a camera was. Are we supposed to do that, too?”

Colton shakes his head. “Most pioneers would have at least known about cameras. They weren’t often taken on the trail because of the rough conditions, which is why there aren’t very many pictures, but they probably would have seen one or heard about them before they departed.”

“Oh, right. That makes sense.”

The children gather around us and we smile and say “cheese curds.” Just as we finish up, Colton pulls his phone from his pocket. “Would you mind taking one of just the two of us?” he asks the man.

Before I register what’s happening, Colton’s arm wraps around my back and we lean into each other for the photo.

“All set,” the man says, handing Colton back his phone. He slips it into his pocket like it’s no big deal.

After the tourists walk away, I gasp dramatically. “You just broke character,” I say, surprised that Colton Walker—mister straight as an arrow—might not be as inflexible as he seems. “How lawless and brazen of you.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “It’s not against the law to have a phone while dressed as a pioneer; it’s just frowned upon.”

“Such a rebel,” I tease, bumping my shoulder against his.

“If you like that,” he says, grabbing my hand, “just wait until you see what I have up my sleeve next.”

CHAPTER 30

Colton

“ARE WE SUPPOSED to be here?” Riley whispers, glancing around like she’s afraid we’ll get caught.

We’re in the museum, having just walked through a door marked Employees Only.

Even if we weren’t supposed to be here, we wouldn’t get into any trouble. Everyone around here knows me and I’ve spent plenty of time in the back rooms of the museum helping Deborah, the head curator. This place sometimes feels like a second—well, maybe third if you count the prairie—home to me.

I tip my head back. “We’re not not supposed to be here.” It’s not like the museum is off-limits. It just happens to be closed for the day.

Riley rolls her eyes but a smile plays at the corner of her mouth. “Double negatives are only positive in math.”

“Fair point,” I say. Sometimes the door to the main exhibits is unlocked during the day, but the handle doesn’t turn when I jiggle it. I pull a key ring out of my pocket and search for the one that opens this door. Unfortunately, nearly all the keys in this place look identical and I’ve never gotten around to marking which is which, since I rarely ever need them. After I try three different options unsuccessfully, I joke, “You don’t happen to know how to pick a lock, do you?”

“No. But I do have a bobby pin.” A pause. “This isn’t a heist, is it?”

“No.” I laugh at the suggestion. “Not today. We’d have to go in through the roof for that, and I left all my rappelling gear at home.”

“Some thief you are,” she teases.

The next key slips into the lock. I push the door open and step into a hallway. On the left are storage rooms and offices for Deborah and the docents. To the right are the rooms housing the items that aren’t on display, are undergoing preservation, or are being studied. We follow the hallway straight ahead through an unmarked door and end up on the museum floor in the middle of the “Wagons of the West” exhibit, featuring a reproduction wagon much like the prairie schooners we use for excursions, and taxidermic oxen, horses, and mules like the ones that were used to traverse the Oregon Trail.