Page 5 of Extreme Romancing in Idaho

“And press on the accelerator while you do it.” Nora pointed at the pedals on the floor.

Angie didn’t say anything to them and kept trying until turning the key only resulted in a click. She leaned her head on the steering wheel.

“I can give y’all a ride if you need one,” I offered. I didn’t exactly know how I was getting home, but I’d figure it out. My co-conspirator and best friend, Myles, mentioned he might be able to pick me up, but if he didn’t show, I could call an Uber since the rental car place wasn’t open. If they even had Uber drivers out here.

Nothing but empty fields surrounded the airport. No hotels. No restaurants. No houses. Just vast emptiness, making me feel exposed to the constant wind.

“No, we’re fine,” Angie said.

“That would be lovely.” Nora leaned over her daughter.

“Great.”

Angie narrowed her eyes at my one-word answer and started rolling up her window. I didn’t know what I’d done to earn her reticence.

“Y’all stay out of the wind in the truck. I’ll be back after I return this wheelchair.” The window closed before I finished speaking.

I smiled at her through the glass while she pretended I didn’t exist. Stubborn woman. How hard would it have been for her to say thanks? It wasn’t like she had any other option.

If only I could take away the glimpses of sadness I’d seen in Angie’s eyes. It was no surprise her expressions were tinged with misery. Nora and Tony hadn’t said much about his health, but I caught the words hospice and cancer.

In one plane ride, it wasn’t hard to figure out that the Johnsons were nice and genuine. Why did such awful things have to happen to good people?

I scrubbed a hand down my cheek. Nora and Tony talked the whole way from Salt Lake about Angie. They told me how she supported them, how she’d worked the farm when Tony’s health had deteriorated, and she’d also managed to be the first in the family to graduate with a bachelors. My curiosity about her, which had burned as hot as a Texas summer, cooled in the face of her disinterest in me.

I probably should have skipped all the bridge talk, but I was within miles of a once-in-a-lifetime experience, an unforgettable adrenaline rush.

The wind gusted and nearly took me with it. I turned to roll the wheelchair inside, but it was no longer next to me. My head shot up. The rolling chair blew across the parking lot at record speed like a ghost propelled it.

I sprinted after it. My backpack forced me to run like an awkward college freshmen with a billion books in their bag. I looked back at Angie—she was all-out laughing at me. With the spectacle I made of myself, I wasn’t surprised. I picked up my pace.

A car honked as I ran in front of it. It slammed on its brakes, and the driver got out. I didn’t even pause. The possessed chair was closing in on a black Mercedes, and I couldn’t let it mar the gleaming paint. My fingers closed on the left handle a couple of seconds before it broadsided the sports car. It whipped to a stop, the footrest slamming into my shin.

“Ow!” I yelled and hopped on one foot.

“Hey, Remi.”

Myles? Torrents of air blasted past my ears, making it hard to hear anything. I gripped the wheelchair and faced the driver of the car that’d nearly hit me.

“What are you doing chasing a wheelchair through the parking lot?” Myles wore sweats and a hoodie with his shoulder-length hair pulled back. He stood on the footboard with the door still open and leaned over the roof of the small red car. His door flexed in the wind.

Pushing the wheelchair in front of me, I moved closer to him, so I didn’t have to yell. “I’m returning it for a friend I met on the plane.”

“Sometimes you are too damn social!” Myles yelled and sat back in the driver’s seat. “Let me get parked.” He closed the door and veered into the parking spot to his right. He shut off the car and came to my side.

We clasped hands, and he gave me a one-armed hug around the steel frame of my backpack.

“Dallas isn’t the same without you.” I hadn’t seen him in months.

“Yeah. Well, it’s been rough here too. Sorry I’m late.”

In looks, Myles was my opposite. Straight blond hair. Lighter complexion. Light green-blue eyes. I’d known him since elementary school. After he’d saved my social life all through my growing up years, I’d made sure he had a very comfortable living doing what he loved most. My mom always lectured me on what a proper employer-employee relationship looked like. I was surprised she didn’t call himthe help.

I successfully maneuvered the wheelchair to the ticket counter, exchanged pleasantries with the sparse airport employees while Myles remained quiet by my side. He’d been like this since Samantha had broken his heart a couple of months before he’d come here.

“Hey, remember the people I was too damn social with on the plane?” I asked on our way to the parking lot. The automatic doors slid open, allowing the wind to pummel me again.

“Yeah.” Myles’ chin-length hair fell out of his man bun and stuck to his whiskers. He brushed it behind his ears only to have it wisp around his face again.

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