Page 3 of Pretend To Be My Cowboy
She hoped it was about who was going to pick up toilet paper, because their current supply wouldn’t last until Emma got back to make her monthly run to Costco.
“Wait, Emma.” Lizzy’s voice rang with alarm again. “What if you don’t have cell reception in Podunk?”
“The town is called Aspire,” Emma reminded her patiently as she tucked the phone between her chin and shoulder so she could bend over and snag her own carry-on from beneath the seat in front of her. “And even if I don’t have reception there, I’ll find some way to keep you updated.”
Lizzy sighed. “Fine. But don’t get eaten by a bear.”
Emma went to say goodbye but Lizzy wasn’t done.
“And if you hear banjo music, run.”
“Lizzy—”
“Have you seenThe Hills Have Eyes?” Lizzy continued, clearly enjoying herself now. “Don’t take any chances with the locals.”
“You are ridiculous.” Emma giggled, scooting to take Mr. Fishing Vest’s seat as he and his buddies talked so loudly the airplane seemed to vibrate with it. “From what I saw online, Aspire is more like a setting from a Hallmark movie than a horror flick.” Her lips curved up at the thought of it. “It’ll probably be some quaint little town with friendly, charming people.”
“And you say I’m ridiculous,” Lizzy said in a rueful tone. “I’m pretty sure all those romance novels have officially ruined your brain.”
Emma laughed. “I really gotta run. Love you, little sis.”
“Love you more,” Lizzy shot back.
Emma ended the call just in time to slide into the aisle and follow the group of vest-clad fishermen to the front of the plane.
As if she wasn’t already aware that she wasn’t in Chicago anymore, the airport clinched it. She followed the rest of the plane passengers to the baggage claim and stopped to gawk at the giant wooden bear hovering threateningly under a sign that read, ‘Welcome to Montana.’
She grinned up at it. Welcome, indeed. If this was how they greeted visitors, she’d hate to see what they did when they said farewell.
It wasn’t until she grabbed her bag from the carousel and headed toward the airport doors that a wave of nerves hit her square in the chest.
What am I doing here? Is this really how I want to spend a week of my summer vacation? I mean, sure, the mountains are stunning, but...
A second later, a wave of hot air smacked her in the face as she stepped out onto the sidewalk. It was late July and although the air was warm, it had a fresh, inviting essence to it. With this much space around her, she could breathe it in, uninhibited by towering buildings and elevated trains, which for a moment felt claustrophobic compared to this.
She blinked, surprised by the thought. She’d never been bothered by the hustle and bustle of inner-city Chicago before, but this opposing landscape was so vast and open. With a small smile she inhaled, noting how dry the air was. Her blonde hair went into instant static cling mode.
She stood there with her roll-on bag and checked her phone.
No messages. No call.
She glanced around. No foreman.
What exactly was she supposed to do now? Her interactions with the ranch foreman had been brief and to the point. She’d told him what day she was arriving and when, and he’d said he’d pick her up. Or he’d have someone else pick her up?
She nibbled on her bottom lip as she watched passengers around her head toward the parking lot—groups of friends, a talkative young family—and then there was her. Alone.
In Montana.
“Maybe I should have listened to Lizzy,” she murmured aloud.
Emma unlocked her phone to find the email exchange. With a frown, she realized she couldn’t remember the foreman’s name to search for the email thread.
Wonderful.
After a quick, fruitless scroll through her myriad of emails, she dropped her phone into her bag. It was fine. She was fine. She could do this on her own. And besides, it was good practice. She and Lizzy couldn’t keep doing everything together once her sister got married and moved in with Connor.
If a ride never showed, she’d just hail a cab. She looked around the parking lot. They did have cabs here, right?
