Page 72 of Bad Rio

Beneath the cowboy hat, observant and wise eyes studied her. He was taller than Rio by a couple of inches. That put him at a good six-foot-five. His gnarled hand engulfed hers. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

She smiled up at him. “Allow me to return the compliment, Mr. Lang.”

“Jim,” he corrected. “Come inside. Sarah’s waiting.”

Together they walked into the two-story clapboard house and a small, old-fashioned kitchen. With a linoleum floor, simple tiled countertop, and gingham curtains at the windows, the room was cozy and inviting. A woman in an apron was pulling a blue-speckled pan from the oven.

The dogs followed, sniffing the air and looking hopeful.

“I made supper,” Sarah called out, not looking up from her oven. Delicious smells of roast, potatoes and vegetables wafted from the pan. Becca was instantly starving.

“Rio, get your friend something to drink and have a seat,” Sarah instructed. “We can eat now.” She waved at Rio as though she’d seen him only an hour before.

Rio grinned at Becca. “She’s bossy. Always barking orders.”

Sarah did look up then. She snapped out a kitchen towel. “I’m not bossy! Maybe you’d rather wear this roast, huh? Now, get the drinks.”

“And she’s spunky,” Rio said to Becca. He moved to pull Sarah into his arms for a big hug.

After a moment, she pushed him away. “I’m not spunky,” Sarah said. “I’m sweet and kind. Now, sit down.”

Becca hid a smile. “I’ll be happy to follow your orders, Sarah. Thank you for making us this meal. It looks heavenly. I’m so hungry.”

Rio went to the doorway. “Jim and I’ll get some wine,” he said and the two men disappeared into the next room.

Untying her apron, Sarah faced Becca for the first time. In her early thirties, she was tall, at least five-foot-ten. A thick, dark blonde braid fell to her waist and enormous green eyes under darker winged brows fastened on Becca. “I’m so glad to meet you,” she said. “At last, a woman has lassoed Rio.”

With that she threw her arms around Becca and gave her a close hug. Surprised again, Becca returned the embrace. When they parted, she said, “Um, I’m not sure I’ve lassoed him at all. He was sent to rescue me in Mexico when I was kidnapped. He saved my life.”

Sarah appeared unsurprised. “That’s what he does.” She reached into a cabinet for dinner platters. “And he’s very good at it.” She also took down four salad plates.

“Can I help?”

“Utensils are in that drawer,” Sarah said, and they worked companionably to set the table. In the center Sarah placed her roast, and then from the refrigerator a wooden bowl filled with fresh salad greens. “And I made an apple pie for dessert,” she said. “It’s Rio’s favorite. He doesn’t come home often, so I wanted to do that for him.”

“I love apple pie, too,” Becca said, “but I’ve never made one.”

“I’ll teach you.” She smiled and Becca saw that her white teeth were perfect. In fact, she was truly a stunning beauty. “Tomorrow,” she said confidently.

With that, Becca was at home. She marveled at how easily Sarah accepted her, and was grateful for Big Jim’s hospitality. She wondered how an astoundingly beautiful young woman remained hidden out here in this remote place. Like Rio, Sarah was Hollywood gorgeous.

In consternation, Becca glanced around. Maybe there was something in the water?

Over dinner and glasses of red wine, Rio and Becca filled the other two in on their predicament, on her father’s political aspirations, and their ignorance of who, exactly, was trying to kill them.

“You’ll reach out,” Big Jim asked Rio, “to your old contacts?”

“Tomorrow,” Rio confirmed. “I’ll make a few calls, send a few emails. I don’t like running blind, and on this one, we need a little help.”

Jim stretched out his long legs and folded his hands over his lean belly. “Gonna call in the Feds?”

Rio cast a wary glance at Becca. “Maybe. We’ll see what new information my contacts dig up.”

Becca gulped. “The Feds? As in ... the FBI?”

Rio reached out, took her hand. “We’ll see, okay? Now’s not the time to worry about that.” He sent a warning glance to his father.

“Pie?” Sarah said brightly, getting up to fetch the expertly made dessert, the top layer basket-weaved in an intricate pattern. As she took a tub of vanilla ice cream from the freezer and cut generous slices, she said, “Tomorrow, you guys will be busy. So, we’re going to bake another pie, and then I’ll take Becca for a ride into the meadow.” She glanced at Becca. “You ride, don’t you?”

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