Page 6 of Wylder Ranch
His words catch up to me, and I stop talking.Holiday.
I send a silent message of thanks to Saylor because if she hadn’t readUS WeeklyandPeople, I wouldn’t have known that Holiday Simpson,the actress, is dating Lando Burlington, the English duke.
The duke, also known asAlex’s brother, whom I briefly met last year when they all visited Aspen. Those articles are partly responsible for my visit here, plus Saylor and her pursuit to get me to leave Colorado and come to find Alex since the day he left last December.
But mostly I’m here for Everly. I have to put her first. She and Alex deserve to know the other exists.
The guy behind the bar continues to stare at me.
“No, I’m not friends with Holiday. I don’t know her. I’ve met Lando. But I need to find his brother,Alex,” I repeat, adding a smile because I hope he’ll take pity on me.
At best, I hope he’ll give me Alex’s number, or at the very least some directions to his house. If not, I’ll go to the next bar and ask there. Now that I know I’m in the right place, there must be numerous people who can help. Valentine Nook has the same kind of small-town feel I love back home, and if someone walked into the bakery or the Old Saloon and asked for me, Joe would. . .
Shit.
I realize my first mistake, and I honestly don’t know why it didn’t occur to me before.
There’s no way Joe would give out any of my details to a stranger. And from the looks on this guy, he’s not going to give me any help with Alex.
“Look,” I say eventually. “Do you have a pen and paper? Could I give you my cell number, and if you have a way to contact Alex, please give it to him? I’m only here for a few days, so it’s kind of urgent.”
My return flight is on Monday. I figured coming for a long weekend was enough time to do what I needed to do. Not to mention, I can’t afford to stay any longer than a few days. I have to get home and figure out how to run my business with a newborn.
I’m about to ask him again when I get the sense someone is staring at me, and my head snaps around. Since I had Everly, I’ve become more aware of strangers—there’s something about a baby that makes people want to stop and talk to you. AndtalkI can deal with. It’s the ones who want to touch her that make me step away.
But instead of someone older, as it usually is, I finda tall woman about my age, with long, dark blond hair scraped back from a clear, fresh face and tied into a ponytail. She’s pretty, but there’s something about her that makes me wonder if we’ve met before.
“Hello. Gorgeous baby. How old?” she asks through a broad smile.
I glance down at Everly to find her eyes wide open and captivated.
“Six weeks.” I adjust the little hat she’s wearing. It’s blue with cream piping and was knitted for her by one of my customers.
“She’s beautiful.”
My shoulders drop, and I forget I’m waiting for a pen to give my contact details over, because if I’m anything, it’s a sucker for compliments about my daughter.
“Thank you, she really is.” I smile back.
“Are you visiting?”
I nod. “Just for the weekend.”
“From America, I’m assuming by the accent. I love America. Which state?”
“Colorado. Aspen,” I reply.
She nods in acknowledgement, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. When her eyes flick up to mine, I have the distinct impression that she wants to say something. It’s a little unnerving, especially because the guy behind the bar seems to have walked off, and I still don’t have a pen to leave my contact details.
“What’s her name?”
I turn back to the girl, trying not to be annoyed the guy walked off, because now what am I supposed to do? I thought English people were supposed to be helpful.
“D’you think that the barman is coming back?”
Her eyes scan over the bar. “Yes, he’s always popping off. He won’t have gone far. Did you need something?”
“I wanted a pen to leave my contact details.”
