15
We’reall scheduled to meet at the beach at noon, but I’m the first one there except for an attendant who appears to be working on setting up the wooden altar we’ll use for our rehearsal tomorrow and the wedding the following day.
I’m distracted by a cage with a bright-orange bird sitting in the sand. The same kind of bird I saw last night from our villa.
“Well, hello,” I say, bending to my knees as I come up next to the birdcage. The white sand is smooth against my skin as my jean shorts ride up.
The bird peers back at me, its green head jerking back and forth.
“She’s beautiful,” I say softly. “What’s her name?”
“Hugo,” the attendant informs me. “It’s a male. The female fruit doves aren’t as brightly colored.”
“And he’s here to get a tan?” I ask with a smile.
“He gets bored up by the buildings. Figured I’d bring him with me for an outing.”
“They live around here? I saw one behind my villa.”
“All over the island,” the man confirms. “This one hurt his wing recently, and we’ve been keeping him grounded until he heals.”
I search his bright feathers for an indication of a disability.
“He’s almost right. Another couple of weeks, should be,” the attendant says as if reading my mind. “Then he’ll go back to his mate. She’ll wait for him.”
“Of course she will,” I say dryly, scanning the length of the beach.
I rise from the sand as Elle, Beck, and Rae arrive. “You guys ready for our adventure? We’re going to this secluded cove.”
“Hell yes. I’m going to show it to my entire audience,” Beck promises.
“No, you’re not,” Elle retorts.
“Where’s our boat?” Rae asks, scanning the horizon.
“Dad and Haley and the kids are taking a boat. Tyler too. We’re taking better transportation.”
Tyler texted to say they were nearly done and would meet us there. I shelve my feelings about that and look past my friends. I see a string of horses heading up the beach, a rider on the first one only.
“Wild West!” Beck hollers. “I’m so ready for this.”
When I arranged this with the wedding planner and the resort, I’d imagined Tyler and me riding off into the sunset. He’d told me he’d never been on a horse before—something about a fear of horses that he promised, after I teased him about it, wasn’t really that bad—and I figured it was about time.
It was going to be romantic and cheesy and perfect.
But he’s not here.I shove the thought away and resolve to enjoy it until he is.
The trail leader, a woman of middle age with a warm smile and a fastidious eye for her horses and how we engage with them, introduces us to our mounts and tells us the basics. Most of us haven’t ridden before, and when I get on, I’m grateful for the saddle to help me keep my balance.
Once we’re all on horses—mine is a beautiful black mare named Ilsa—we head in a row…
Out toward the sea.
“Excuse me. Pretty sure these are land animals,” Elle calls.
The guide turns in her saddle. “The cove we’re going to requires a bit of off-roading.”
She leads us into the shallow water, the horses seemingly content to plod through the water that brushes the bottom of my stirrups. The rhythmic sloshing of the sea against Ilsa’s body is strangely comforting.