Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144435 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 722(@200wpm)___ 578(@250wpm)___ 481(@300wpm)
"Uh-huh. We are so talking about this when I get back."
"Whatever," I mumble, my cheeks red even though she can't see me through the phone. Having a guilty conscience is exhausting. Everything shows on my face. "Have fun camping. Don't die."
"Have fun hiking," she sing-songs. "I want details!"
I hang up on her before she can tease me more. It's way too early and I'm hungover. Plus, I don't want to confess that I'm really going to spy on Cord. Hiking sounds less insane than I'm trooping through the woods to spy on a cowboy I think I'm obsessed with. I already almost chickened out twice this morning, mostly because it's cold out and my bed is nice and toasty. And also because jail sounds less appealing every time I think about it.
Also, I'm not very stealthy. I had the Uber drop me off about a mile from the ranch. I thought it would be less conspicuous that way. The driver thought I was a crazy person, asking to be dropped off in the middle of nowhere, but I shoved a bunch of cash at him and swore him to secrecy. Now, I'm hiking through the woods that run adjacent to Cord's property.
If they haven't already heard me coming, it'll be a miracle. The movies make sneaking look easy. It's not. I've tripped over every branch, root, and stick in the general vicinity, and got my boot stuck in the mud twice. My mind instantly flashed back to all those childhood fears of quicksand.
This is why the outdoors and I don't get along. If anyone were going to die in a freak quicksand accident, it would be me. It's far safer to stay inside where things like quicksand and poison ivy and furry caterpillars and nope ropes and flying cockroaches aren't supposed to exist.
I lean against a tree and fire off a quick text to Emmy, letting her know that I'm out exploring near the Decker ranch. That way, if I die out here, at least someone at the resort knows to send a search party. Paige probably won't be back for a day or two, so she won't know to send help until then. Especially if she loses cell signal. I'd really like to not die in the woods because I fell in a hole and froze to death waiting to be rescued.
Once I've texted Emmy, I shove my phone back into my pocket and set out again, placing my feet carefully to avoid any pitfalls. Within five minutes, I've tripped twice, tearing the pocket of my jacket and soaking the leg of my pants. Thirty seconds later, my boot tangles in a root. My arms windmill wildly as I try to keep myself upright, but it's no use. The root snaps, releasing its hold on my boot just in time to throw me completely off balance.
I fall face first over a downed log, landing in a pile of damp leaves.
"You're not allowed to die in the woods, Cassia Murphy," I mutter, rolling onto my back to stare up at the sky. A dense tangle of pine needles directly overhead blots out the sky, darkening this patch of woods. Aside from the wind rustling through the branches and the gurgle of water coming from deeper in the thick press of trees it's eerily quiet and somehow…peaceful?
I reluctantly drag myself upright, wincing when I put weight on my right foot and my ankle throbs. I think I twisted it when I fell. There's no way I'm going to make it the rest of the way in the woods without seriously injuring myself. But I'm not ready to give up either. I came this far. I might as well see this insane plan through to the end. Ride or die, right?
"Right," I say, even though I'm pretty sure that is absolutely not what that saying means. Deciding I need to get out of the trees before I do actually die out here, I limp toward the fence. The pasture stretches clear across the horizon, nothing but grass and a herd of cattle in sight to the north and south. A farmhouse and a cluster of barns and outbuildings dot the horizon to the east. I limp alongside the fence, not quite brave enough to trespass by climbing over it. Until I see part of the wiring pulled down around a metal post.
It's not technically climbing if all I have to do is step over it….
"I'm so going to jail," I whisper, darting a glance around to make sure no one is watching. If anyone is around, they're better at blending in than I am because all I see are trees and cows. The farmhouse and ranch buildings are a good half a mile ahead, still too far for me to make out much more than cows and a flurry of activity around the barns. I need to get closer to see what's happening.