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“Mack will meet us out in the corral as soon as we arrive to evaluate Chance.” Captain Walker turns to me. “We’ll meet up with your folks, get you a quick bite to eat, and then load you up in the wagon for our return trip. Wanda has everything packed and ready to go.”

While Colton and his dad discuss the best alternative routes back to Darby, I try to memorize the prairie from this vantage point but it’s next to impossible to focus. I shift in the saddle, hoping to find a more comfortable position, and catch Colton looking at me. “Are you okay?” he mouths.

I nod and grab hold of the pommel to keep from lurching right out of my seat.

I’m fine.

Everything’s fine.

Everything’s not fine.

Okay, that might be a tad melodramatic.

But still, everything feels off the minute we arrive at Fort Bellows. Similar to our first entrance in the wagon train, spectators line up along the sides of the main road to watch us enter. This time I recognize some faces. The McCreadys standing in front of the general store. The Stones and the Pinskis outside the tavern. Caleb and his buddies messing around in front of the post office. Up on this horse, I feel more on display than I did before. Maybe it’s because I’m not hidden under yards of calico, with a giant bonnet concealing my face.

I glance over at Colton, wishing I could hold his hand. Or at least have him right by my side for moral support. When I catch his eye, he shrugs and gives me a look that I interpret to mean, “I don’t get what the big deal is.”

Exactly.

We weren’t missing for days.

Neither of us is fatally wounded or even slightly injured.

We’re hungry, thirsty, and in dire need of a warm shower, but who isn’t after a night on the trail?

After what feels like an eternity, we make it through the welcome gauntlet and ease to a stop in front of the stables. A squat man with a crooked grin walks over and tips his hat in our general direction, his gaze focused on Chance. “Is he limping? Any gait problems? Shying away?”

Colton glides out of his saddle, landing lightly on his feet. “Not that I can tell, Mack.”

The man nods and takes Chance’s lead. “I’ll give him a thorough go-over and call in Dr. Vitello if I need to.”

“I’ll join you in a minute,” Colton says.

He strides over to me and reaches up to help me down from my horse. Instead of landing with a graceful bend to my knee, my stiff joints wobble and I nearly fall over. His hands brace my waist, holding me upright, while I find my land legs. All the muscles in my body hum from exertion. If I listen carefully, I can hear every bathtub and hot tub in Nebraska calling my name.

Riiiiiillllleeeeey.

Colton leans down and whispers, “I really want to kiss you right now, but my dad is right there.”

I take a step back and nod. “Colton, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Before I can say anything more, my parents wrap me in a crushing hug.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” Colton says, backing away to give us space.

“Oh my gosh, Riley, you gave us a scare,” Mom says, holding my face in her hands and twisting it to the left and right as if to make sure I’m truly fine.

“We’re so glad you’re okay.” Dad rubs his hands in a small circle on my back.

“You must be exhausted.”

“And hungry.”

They spin me away from the stable and wrap me between them, like I’m the creamy vanilla filling in their Oreo cookie sandwich. I catch a glimpse of Colton disappearing into Chance’s stall at the back of the barn before they guide me onto the main avenue and back to our hotel.

It’s slow going for me, with everything from my gluteus maximus to the tip of my big toe aching from the effort. Colton has to be impossibly fit to sleep on the ground and then ride for a few hours and not waddle like a duck because of it.

Captain Walker catches up with us as we make our way up the hotel’s front porch stairs. “Wagons depart in an hour. I wish I could give you more time, Riley, but we’re a day behind schedule and need to get things back on track as soon as possible so we can get everyone back to Darby on time. If you don’t want to continue with the rest of the excursion,” he says, looking to my parents for guidance, “we can always call the office and have a van sent for you when you’re ready to head back.”