His Montana Bride (The Montana Armstrongs Book 1)
Page 7
Ting! That surprised him, so he glanced at his cell.
All's well here. That was Alex's text he'd been expecting. Text me before your flight takes off and I'll come pick you up at the airport. Don't think I won't charge you.
Go ahead and try. Cord laughed. He began to type. Good luck with collecting that. He hit send.
Collecting is easy. It's putting up with you that's hard. He had a laughing wink of a face as an icon.
Ting! went his phone. Emily again. Yum. Don't get me started on chips.
He tapped out a reply. What are you up to next?
Ting. His phone announced her text.
Trying to get out of here before my mom stops me. Wait, Dad is coming. Hold on.
He grinned. He had the idea of her sitting at a kitchen table with that sparkling lake view out the window, hiding her phone from anyone who dared to come too close.
Ting! Part two of her message stared up at him.
Whew, that was a close call. My dad is nosier than my mother. Hard to believe it's possible, but he believed that I was checking on the time and not texting you. So far, so good.
Are you sure about that? I bet he's a pretty sharp guy. He hit send.
Sharp? He is easy to fool. My sister has been doing it all her life, and so I've learned from the best. The secret is nearly dumping the phone into the bowl of macaroni salad. It's hard for him to see the screen from there.
So, instead of lying to him, you hide things from him. Even if it lands in food or a potted plant.
The potted plant is dangerous. Mom banned them in everyone's houses when her cat knocked one off the shelf and it fell and broke her little finger. She was innocently sitting at the table reading her devotional, and bang, the pot hit the table and her finger.
You're making this up.
No, Mom had to go to the doctor and everything. The cat wasn't supposed to be on the hutch. There was the great basket trauma, and I can't begin to mention what happened when she got a Christmas stocking that fell off the mantel and stuck her head in it. Could not get it off.
I have no funny cat stories. My house cat is polite and sleeps most of the day. Then sleeps some more.
That is a good cat. What does Kate think of the cat?
They sleep together. I've been known now and again to nap on the couch too, and we are a trio.
Of nappers?
Why does that make me think of kidnappers? I can nap on my day off.
Hey, I'm not judging. LOL. Oops, my sister is coming. Hold on.
He waited. Whatever had happened on the tv show, he'd missed too much of it. What was going on now? He couldn't concentrate. Emily stayed front and center.
Ting! He read the screen. My sister did not see my phone. I'm on my way out. Gotta go.
Okay. Talk to you later.
Swoosh, went his phone, and he waited. No answer came.
The police show wound toward its conclusion where the suspect was caught, the mystery solved and the police detective safe after all.
Still, no answer from Emily.
* * *
Cord blinked in the morning sun, shaded his eyes with his hand, shifted his carry-on bag to his other hand and gave the cab driver a tip.
"Thanks." The man cracked his gum and pocketed the cash.
With a nod, Cord opened the passenger door and climbed out into the SeaTac morning. The breeze was temperate, the sun cheery even a few minutes past five in the morning. He hauled out his small suitcase and closed the door.
Well, this trip was officially over. Now he was thinking of home. His heart kept thinking of her.
He checked in, checked his bag, he'd been hoping for a longer stay, but it was good he flew home today instead of tomorrow. He had life waiting. His life wasn't here.
He got into line in security and waited along with everyone else. He checked his phone one last time. Nothing from Emily.
Well, so much for that. He turned it off and grabbed a plastic bin to put the cell and his boots in.
In an hour, he would be in the air, heading home.
7
Just relax, Cord told himself as he braced his boots on the barn roof, retrieved his bottle and took a long pull of water. It trailed down his throat, cooling him. A playful hot breeze rippled over him, doing nothing to ease the Montana summer heat.
Beauty surrounded him. Wildflower-studded meadows. Gentle rolling hills and the distant stunning foothills rising up in evergreen forests, skirting the purple snow-capped peaks of the Bridger Range.
A man could lose himself here and never want to leave. His trip last week had been great, he'd love the different kind of unassuming, stunning beauty of Seattle. It was a gorgeous city, however, it was not this. A doe looked up from drinking in the nearby water trough, so dainty and delicate, his heart melted on sight.
She'd been here many a time lately with her twin fawns, who were curled up in the tall grass. Not far from where cattle with their calves drowsed, sleepy in the afternoon heat.
A muffled ting sounded from his back pocket.
Surprise. It's me. Emily's text made him grin.
And hurt quite a bit. But he ignored that tuck of pain around his heart and tapped a message back. Long time no hear from, so it seems. What's up?
There, that didn't seem too personal or too much like he was sad about how things turned out. He hit send, picked up his hammer and went back to work.
Bam, bam, bam, went his hammer.
Ting! He stopped hammering and tugged out his cell.
I have a surprise for you. I hope it goes over well.
Huh. His forehead furrowed in thought, wondering what on earth she meant. What do you mean by a surprise? He hit send, and his phone went, swoop.
Ting! Her answer popped onto his screen. I was flying out to Atlanta today, but in fact, I'm on the ground in Bozeman.
Bozeman? No, that couldn't be right. You're kidding me.
My flight was cancelled. There's this big storm rolling through. So I asked for a seat to Bozeman. I've got a hotel booked and I'm waiting in line for a rental car.
You're seriously here.
Like I said, surprise. She added and a face with hair sticking straight up. Is it a good surprise?
You bet!
His nerves went into overdrive. She was here. Right here. Hardly much of a drive at all. And look at him, a complete mess. He needed time to hop in the shower, change into clean clothes and zoom off to meet her. I'll be there to take you to supper. Deal?
Deal, my friend.
Well, she had to go and use his own decision not to be romantic against him. He sighed. It was where they were. Where they had to stay.
"What's going on?" Alex stalked across the upper tier of the roof, careful of the tar paper he'd laid. "We'll run out before the day's work is done. Someone miscalculated."
"I estimated. Big difference." Cord defended himself but not as jovially as usual. It seemed anxiety ate up a lot of a man's good humor.
"You should have measured. It needed to be accurate." Alex rolled his eyes, shook his head and stormed over to grab his water bottle. He tipped it back, drinking long and deep.
Cord grinned. "I just figured we could wing it. So what if it doesn't come out quite right? It's just the roof."
Alex shook his head, pretending to vastly disapprove. But he couldn't hide the amused smirk.
"You finish this, will you?" Cord asked between gulps of water. "And I'll owe you. I've got things to do."
"Like not fix the roof?"
"Like go see a pretty woman."
"That's a movie, not reality, and it certainly isn't your life. Stay away from pretty women." Alex paused. "Oh, you're not kidding. Did you find another one online? Stay away from women you don't know. Better yet, stay off the computer. That's the best advice I have."
"I'll keep that in mind, after I go see Emily."
"Isn't that a long drive?"
"She's not in Seattle." Cord's stomach twisted up tight. He was going to see her. He wa
sn't prepared to.
Well, he had to admit the truth. He wanted to be the man she needed. He couldn't help it. But he doubted severely that he could be. Even if she wasn't meant for him, he wanted her to have a good time here on her stopover.
This should be memorable for both of them. The trick was not setting his hopes too high.
"You've got that woman on your mind, and that's bad, man, you've got to dump her completely." Alex knelt down to position a shingle. "You've let her get a hold of you. Never do that."
"This is wise advice from a man who can't get anybody to date him."
Alex grinned. "On purpose and everything."
"Not cool, man." Cord took another swig, light-hearted. Alex wasn't entirely wrong. If a man didn't have control of his feelings, then what did he have control of? "She's in town."
"Emily?" He stopped hammering. "Are you kidding me? She is after you."
"She's had a flight delay and took a stopover in Bozeman. Least I can do is see her. It's happenstance."
"Or manipulation. That's what women do." Alex waggled his brows. "Beware. I'm not kidding."
"Not even you believe that fully, do you? I tell you what, it could be one of those God things."
"That's a risky thing to believe. Why would God want a women to break your heart?"
"We're just friends now."
"Well, I feel better about that. You're leaving me to roof this place in peace, aren't you?"
"True fact."
"That is a relief. I can't tell you how hard it is to put up with your ugly mug." Alex winked.
"I know. You suffer."
"Badly. People feel sorry for me."
"I happen to be one of them. You're not mad I'm going?"
"Whatever you do, shower first and change that shirt." Alex emptied his bottle, tossed it over the side of the roof where it landed with a thunk in the recycling bin. "I'll work on this and be glad you're gone. Get going."
"You're a good brother, Alex."
"You tell everyone that. It will help with my street cred." Alex knuckled back his hat and strode the length of the barn. Cows in the field mooed at him. He grabbed a handful of shingles off the bundle. "You have a good time."
"We'll see." He had no idea how this was going to go. He climbed down the ladder rungs, telling himself this was no big deal. He could do this.
Casual, that's all, and no expectations.
Don't get the cart in front of the horse again, Cord. His work boots touched the sun-baked ground. All he had to do was keep hold of his heart. That's all.
He stopped to pet Kate resting in the soft grass in the shade of the barn. Her brown eyes lit up, and she bounced to her feet. Her paws made a companionable rustle in the grass beside him as they headed to the house.
Remembering what he was going to do, he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He stopped walking to type, Will text you when I'm on my way.
He hit send and took a moment to let the sun kiss his face and the breeze blow right over him. What a great view he had of the peaceful valley ringed by distant hills. The sparkling ribbon of a shallow, small river ran beside the county road. A few houses dotted the way. Grasses waved like eddies in the wind. Livestock grazed. Crops grew in orderly rows of bright green.
Overhead a few marshmallow clouds sailed from west to east in a perfect blue sky. He stepped up onto the porch, opened the door for Kate and circled around the cat sprawled in a patch of sun on the carpet.
He could feel it in his bones. It was gonna turn out to be a great day.
* * *
Okay, call her a little nervous. Fine, a lot. She checked her cell one more time, but the screen was unchanged. Cord's last text stared up at her.
On my way. I'll be the one with the cowboy hat.
She'd almost texted back, 'there are a lot of men with cowboy hats here,' but deleted it at the last minute. She was just too nervous, and that likely wasn't funny enough. See how the man made her second guess herself? It couldn't be a good sign.
He wants to be just friends, so relax, she told herself, sat straighter in the lobby's rather comfortable couch and glanced through the stretch of tall windows to the entrance outside.
A gray SUV rolled to a stop right out front.
She'd recognize that tilt of a hat and that handsome dimpled smile anywhere. A joyful glow filled her as she grabbed her handbag and stood. Her phone binged, so she hauled it out of the side pocket of her bag.
Just rolled in. Prepare yourself. This is your last chance to runaway before I knock on your door.
She laughed, tapped back, I've got my sneakers on. LOL. And hit send. Whoop. The text winged its way to the man behind the wheel, who'd opened his door but hadn't emerged into the bright wash of golden summer sun.
The automatic doors of the upscale chain hotel zipped open and she padded out into the bright heat. Leafy trees rustled a tune.
What a sight. She could see him through the windshield. Unaware of her, he chuckled quietly, slipped his phone into his pocket. When he got out of the vehicle, the wind tousled the ends of his dark hair beneath the brim of his hat.
He was all chiseled handsomeness and rugged muscular steel. The blue t-shirt he wore hugged the lines and manly curves of him, and his jeans and work boots complimented him. Made him picture perfect.
"Hey, who said you could park there?" she called out.
He glanced over, already laughing, already knowing the sound of her gait and the soft bell of her voice. "Hey, gorgeous lady. What are you doing in Montana?"
"Just dropped in using my umbrella."
"I loved that movie." He watched her come closer, paced away from his open door and stepped onto the sidewalk. "Are you out of your element here?"
"Not at all. I loved the view from the plane, all the forests and meadows and ranches. Then we hit civilization and I had to lower my tray table." The tall, willowy blond tilted her head, smiling up at him.
It took all his effort not to let his jaw drop and his pulse stall.
"It's good to see you, cowboy." She shaded her eyes with one slender hand. "You're a good sport to drop everything and come keep me company."
"It's no problem. I dropped everything, and at the time it was a hammer. It missed my toe and Alex's foot, so we're good." He rolled his eyes heavenward. "I'm gonna have to ask forgiveness for that joke. It fell flat. We were repairing a part of the barn roof. Big windstorm came through, and we had some loose shingles."
"That's too bad. I didn't mean to interrupt. This was sort of a last minute thing." She shrugged, lovely and wonderful, wearing a tentative smile, a summery shirt and denim shorts. As real as could be. And so gorgeous, she was out of her element. She prettied up the town just by being in it.
He opened the passenger door for her. "Are you going to be able to get to Atlanta?"
"I've got a seat on the first flight out in the morning. So I should be good."
"Is this for the convention you mentioned?"
"Yes." She slipped near to him, leaving behind a faint whiff of sweet expensive perfume as she settled on the seat. She pulled a pair of round designer sunglasses from her logo handbag. "I'm going early so I get plenty of time to catch up with some graduate school friends of mine. We do wild things like sit in the coffee shop and eat scones. An organic juice bar was also mentioned."
"Shocking behavior. The FBI should know about you."
"I stymy them."
"I'm not surprised." He gently closed her door and circled around to the open driver's side door. "Do you go to these conventions a lot?"
"Several times a year. Mostly, it gets me out of my office, and that is a welcome change. Although I have a nice office."
"Downtown?" He closed the door and reached for his seatbelt.
She buckled hers, too. "Yep. The tallest building in Seattle. We have some great views, but usually I'm too busy to notice. I commute downtown every day. It's why I live on the Seattle side of things. The traffic on the bridges at rush hour can be a headache. Not to m
ention, unpredictable."
"I don't get much traffic backup on my commute in the morning." He turned the key, checked his mirrors and backed out of the space. "I walk."
"All the way to the barn?"
"Yes. It's easy on the ecosystem."
"Yes, not many car emissions from that."
"Not unless you count coffee fumes."
Mischief made her smile adorable, beyond cute. "Has anyone told you that your sense of humor isn't good. You're not all that funny?"
"All the time," he teased back. "Then again, I could say the same about you."
"Many have."
He chuckled, negotiating through the lot.
"I hope I didn't make a mistake in coming. I just did this on impulse."
"No, it's okay. It's good. I'm as pleased as punch."
"Good. It's pretty great of you to drop everything and rush in. That could have made a different decision."
"As if. Like I would let you sit alone in that hotel room after you chose to come here. You could have landed anywhere else. Chicago is a big hub."
"I've had layovers in Chicago before. But, I didn't have anyone to coordinate with, and I remembered I had a friend here, which was on the way."
"Definitely. Where do you want to eat?"
She shook her head, scattering gold locks. "Doesn't matter to me. Take me to your favorite place. Whatever it is."
"You may regret saying that."
"I doubt it. I'm brave. Unless it's sushi. Or oysters. I don't like squishy food."
"Or uncooked."
"Or bad tasting." She winked.
They laughed together.
"Good to know." He waited for the light to change before signaling the left he took, arrowing into the right hand lane.
She saw the restaurant before he hit the turn signal.
The pizza place was a sedate gray with many wide black paned windows that allowed a view of a comfortable interior. Cushioned booths sat in half circles, back to back in a ring from one side of the place to the other with tables and chairs in the center. He pulled into a spot near the door and cut the engine.
"It's an old friend's place," he explained, hitting the seat belt buckle. "Is this okay with you? I won't force it on you. Or pizza either."