was nothing short of a trope. Not for Cecilia and me. There had never been a time when we shared a bedroom. Even if we did, I highly doubted It would have involved a bunk bed.
I just couldn’t imagine either of my parents willingly putting a contraption like this into their home. If we ever had shared a room, my sister and I each would have had our own beds with tasteful bedding and the same lofty piles of pillows we preferred now.
Lofty piles of pillows we most certainly were not enjoying here on the bunk bed. Each of us had one small pillow meant to act as a companion to a sleeping bag and blanket. Hating the idea of being zipped up into anything, I left my sleeping bag folded over me during the night. That mistake was what led to the frosty breath of air touching my skin first thing in the morning.
My first instinct was to burrow myself down farther into the sleeping bag and try to go back to sleep for a while. With any luck, the guys would simply forget Cecilia and I were even in the bunkhouse and go on without us. We could find a way to be rescued from the first night’s camp and find somewhere more acceptable to stay for the rest of the week. At this point, even the hotel in Green Valley was looking pretty good.
But it was probably more than wishful thinking to think they wouldn’t notice the two extra horses sitting outside waiting for riders. Then I thought about my father and how much fun he was having. Then I thought about Rubin and his completely ridiculous fringed jacket. There was no way I could give him the satisfaction of having gotten through the entire experience without me.
That was what finally got me out of bed. My stubborn streak and competitiveness meant I truly hated not being good at something I tried. I never would have thought I would have any inclination whatsoever to be good at riding horses or doing ranch work, but this was the place where I was finding myself. And that meant I wasn’t going to give up.
Above me, a loud nasally snore told me Cecilia was having absolutely no trouble continuing to sleep. That was very much her, though. My sister was never one to have difficulty sleeping, no matter where she was. I grabbed my blanket, wrapping it around me tightly, and stumbled out of bed to go outside.
There was already a fire burning and the smell of coffee was starting to filter through the air. I was blinded by bright early morning sunlight, and I squinted to look around and see where everybody was.
The men were already gathered around the fire, dressed and seeming ready to head out.
“Look who’s finally awake,” Sawyer said. I glared at him and he chuckled. “Coffee’s over there. Help yourself.”
I pulled the blanket up a little higher so it wouldn’t drag in the dirt, and shuffled over to the fire. There was a row of mugs on a metal rack set on the ground a bit away from where the kettle nestled in coals to stay warm. I poured the coffee and looked down into its dark depths. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Colt watching me with a twitch at the side of his mouth like he was waiting for me to ask for creamer again.
I didn’t humor him. “What’s for breakfast?” I asked as I walked over to my father and kissed the top of his head.
“Whatever you want to rustle up for yourself,” Sawyer answered, having walked past just as I asked the question. “There’s eggs, bacon. Some oatmeal. But whatever you want, I recommend you find something better to wear than that blanket. It would go right up in flames if you got close enough to the fire to cook.”
I looked down at myself and felt heat prickle up the back of my neck. Standing there looking at him, I’d forgotten that I was literally wrapped in the blanket I slept under. Embarrassed, I headed back into the bunkhouse with as much dignity as I could. Digging through my duffel, I found my jeans and layered a pair of tights under them to stay warmer.
Dressed, I put on the awful boots and walked back outside as I zipped up my coat. I checked Sawyer out as he moved around the camp getting ready for the day. I couldn’t