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Once Hitched Twice Shy (Unlikely Cowgirl) Page 2
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Whoa! He was handsome. Deep green eyes and a five-o’clock shadow that accented a jawline that should be carved in stone and saved for future generations to sigh over. He was younger than she realized, probably just a few years older than her. Amidst her assessment, the man tilted his head as if waiting for a response.
“Did you say something?” she asked him.
“I said …” He paused, emphasizing his annoyance. “You must be Mia.”
“Huh? Oh, do you watch the show?” It wouldn’t be the first time she’d run into a fan, but that mainly happened in Portland. When the cowboy didn’t answer, Mia elaborated. “Try My Life? It’s online …”
“Nope.” He folded his arms over his broad chest. “Where are your bags?”
Mia glanced back at Karen, who had an aimless grip on the now-tilted-to-one-side camera. Her mouth hung open, and her eyes were set on the ornery cowboy. Ornery and nosy cowboy, that is.
“Did you just ask where our bags are?” Mia hissed.
He nodded. “Yeah. Are they out yet?”
“Um …” Heat roared up in her chest. “That’s none of your busi—”
“I’m here to pick you up.”
Man, this guy liked to talk over people. “You’re what?”
“Wayne isn’t feeling well, so he sent me to get you two.” The cowboy turned his gaze to the carousel, and then walked toward it, leaving her and Karen standing there like a couple of gawking kids.
“He’s probably some stalker fan who came to kidnap us,” Mia accused.
Karen let out a sigh, her eyes all glossy and dreamlike. “He can kidnap me anytime.”
Mia gave her a sharp look. “Would you want Eddie to hear you say that? He’d probably call off the engagement if he knew you were drooling over a cowboy.”
Karen threw her head back and laughed. “Not a chance. I’m just kidding.” She stuffed the camera back in her bag and nodded to the luggage area. “Come on, let’s get our bags before he does.”
“He doesn’t even know which bags are ours. Besides, I’m going to call Gramps and see if …” Mia’s words were stopped when she pulled out her phone and saw that she’d already received a text from him. Must have come through after she’d taken her phone off airplane mode.
Sorry I couldn’t be there to pick you up, darlin’, but Hunter, my right-hand man, will bring you out to the ranch. Don’t worry, his bark’s a whole lot worse than his bite.
“Hmm,” she mumbled to Karen. “Guess Gramps really is sick.” Her eyes wandered over the group crowding around the luggage carousel. “Bark is worse than his bite,” Mia grumbled with an eye roll. “And how does he expect to know which suitcases are ours?”
“Maybe he’s got special abilities. Or maybe he’s some western Bruce Wayne and he’s paid someone to follow us and knows all the details of our lives.” She raised a villainous-looking brow. Karen did love her superheroes. Eddie, her fiancé, was—according to Karen—the closest thing to Wolverine she’d ever find, which was important because he was her favorite.
“I’m pretty sure the only thing this guy has going for him is an attitude.” Mia grabbed the strap of her purse and carry-on from Karen’s arm and followed after him.
A swarm of people buzzed around the carousel, scrutinizing the luggage as it tumbled down. The cowboy had already crowded his way up to the front.
Mia stepped around until she was exactly opposite him and made her way to the front as well. With the contraption rotating between them, their gazes met. Mia straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin.
The cowboy rolled his eyes.
Her gaze shot to the conveyer belt as a hint of green caught her attention. She’d wrapped a lime-green ribbon around each piece of luggage she brought, including her carry-on, assuring nobody would mistake them as their own. And there it was, tied onto her suitcase and heading her way. Perfect.
Closer … closer. Mia hunched forward, ready to reach for it, when a large hand wrapped around the handle before she could.
Mia gasped, shot her gaze to the man who’d taken it, and felt her eyes widen in surprise.
“Got it.” The cowboy’s shoulder bumped hers as he straightened. His gaze wandered over the crowd, and then he stepped over to where Karen hoisted her bright red case off the conveyer.
Mia tried to follow the action as he moved toward Karen, but people were getting in the way, making it impossible. She stepped to the side, tiptoeing to see them, and realized he was now carrying both cases. One in each hand. He wasn’t pulling them on the wheels they were built with, heaven forbid. Just lugging them around like some barbaric caveman. It wasn’t as if they’d packed light. Not with all the filming equipment and clothing changes needed for the week. “Show-off.”
Mia weaved through slow-moving bodies and rolling luggage, catching up with Karen, who tagged along at his heels. “Holy muscled luggage rack, Batman,” Karen said.
Mia only increased her pace. Finally she was in stride with the guy. “I don’t need you to carry this,” she said, reaching for her suitcase.
He flicked her hand away with the swift move of his arm. “I’ve got it. Grab the door, will you?”
“I’d rather grab my luggage, if you don’t mind.” She slowed after saying it, unwilling to move closer to the doors until he handed it over.
The cowboy picked up pace, spinning to press the door open with his back. Did he miss the fact that every other door in the place was automatic? He held it there with his foot, a giant case in each hand. “You coming?”
She opted for one of the automatic doors beside him, where a small crowd filtered onto the sunlit cement.
The cowboy approached the curb, stopping just at the crosswalk, and glanced over his shoulder. “This way.”
The perma-grin on Karen’s face said she didn’t mind the scenario. In fact, the odd setup probably reminded her of an episode from her comic books. But Mia wasn’t about to fall victim to this joker. If he couldn’t give them proper proof that he was who he said he was, she’d march right back into that airport and wait for Gramps or call a cab or whatever it was she had to do.
“Hey,” she hollered, catching up to the two as they waited to cross the street. A small crowd gathered around them with rolling suitcases of their own.
Mia weaved through the crowd and stopped at the curb next to him. “I’m not taking another step until you show me proof of who you are. My grandpa told me the name of the guy he was sending out, so … tell me your name and I’ll see if it matches.”
He gave her a sly look. “Elvis Presley.”
Karen barked out a laugh. “No kidding?”
Mia spared a quick glare at Karen before aiming her focus right back on the cowboy. The crowd began to walk across the street. Mia followed as Karen and the cowboy did the same. “This isn’t funny, you know,” she said.
“Yep,” the man said. “I agree with you on that.”
“So then just tell me what your name is so that we feel safe getting in the vehicle with you.”
At once he stopped walking. They were at the other curb now, and the people walking behind split to move around them.
The cowboy leveled a severe look at her. “You think I’m here to kidnap you? Why would I do that? Why would anyone do that?”
She folded her arms and sighed, not buying that the man was so ignorant.
“Just spit out your name so we can move on, cowboy,” Karen suggested.
At last he gave her a nod. “My name is Hunter. Your grandpa is Wayne. And I’m here to bring you back to the ranch.”
“Hi, Hunter,” Karen said. “I’m Karen and this is Mia, Wayne’s granddaughter.”
He gave them each a curt nod. “There. Introductions are done. Happy?”
“Yes,” Mia said with a nod. “I am.” But miffed might be a better definition. Just who did this guy think he was, and why would her grandpa send him of all people to pick them up? She only hoped she wouldn’t have to spend any more time with the ornery cowboy. She mi
ght have come to Montana to film her show, but her biggest motive was to spend quality time with Gramps, and she didn’t want anyone to spoil it.
Chapter 4
Hunter kept quiet as he swerved the truck through the hideous airport traffic. He was glad the women remained quiet too. Wayne’s granddaughter was a piece of work. It seemed as if she believed the entire airport revolved around her and her little filming session. That she didn’t have to watch where she was going because everyone would stop and clear the floor.
As if that hadn’t been enough, she’d had to grill him about his identity before she’d even step foot in his truck. What a joke.
Sure, she was prettier than he’d expected her to be in person, but pretty only went so far. Besides, the girl seemed to know she was beautiful. Front and center while people tuned in to watch her work her way through one job after the next—it had to feed her ego. He’d caught enough glimpses of the show while the boys ogled her every move. They might be obsessed with her, but Hunter just didn’t see the appeal.
Liar, an inner voice accused. He fought against it. He’d already admitted she was easy on the eyes. And that she was. In fact, each time he caught eyes with her, his pulse raced. But she wasn’t his type. No sir. He was glad that the friend had been the one to sit up front with him.
Although, as he’d backed out of the parking stall with his arm stretched behind the passenger seat, he caught the camera girl fanning her face with a grin aimed at Mia. So Karen, if he remembered correctly, seemed enamored with him, while the other—Mia—was more interested in burning holes into the back of his head with her angry glare.
“Surprised you didn’t hire some limo service to come get you. That’d probably be a whole lot more up your alley.”
“Oh, no,” she said. “I’d much rather have a super ornery cowboy show up and make me think he’s stealing my luggage as he rushes into the parking lot with barely a word.”
Hunter glanced back at her through the rearview mirror. Those eyes. So blue. And so angry, too. He lifted a brow, tempted to give in to a grin.
Wayne was sure to give Hunter hell for being such a poor sport about the whole thing. But he could hardly help it. There was too much work to be done to shuttle in the man’s granddaughter, all so she could make a big joke out of what they did on the ranch. He could hear her now: Oh, this is so easy. I could do this all day long. Or perhaps she’d be more like, Ew, gross. I would hate having to do this job every day.
That voice spoke up again, pointing out just how bitter he’d become over the years. Sheesh, maybe his mom was right. She’d gotten after him for not wanting to date. For refusing her suggestion to create a profile on ExclusivelyCowboys.com, and not very graciously, either. Well, too bad if he was bitter. He had a right to be. He’d given everything to Vanessa, taken vows to love and cherish her—meaning every word. He’d put his all, his whole and complete heart into those words. And she’d trampled all over them in the first month of their marriage.
That old familiar burning roared up in his chest. Anger. Hurt. Resentment for a betrayal so great his body ached at trying to contain it. Dang. He’d gone weeks without dwelling on things, and now—thanks to Ms. Spotlight—it was all back.
Deep down, Hunter knew exactly why he was so averse to Wayne’s granddaughter. She seemed to have what Vanessa left him for: an appetite for fame. People like her were too self-centered to truly love someone else. They’d always love themselves more.
Sure, it might not be fair to judge someone he’d never met based on his experience with his ex-wife. But who cared? To live and learn means to not go around making the same mistake twice.
He glanced into the rearview mirror once more, noting the furious look on the woman’s pretty face. He’d be sure to stay as far away from her as possible.
Bright rays of sun streamed into the bedroom, highlighting the lovely items around Mia as she climbed out of bed: a set of white curtains, the colorful quilt on the bed, and a rolled rug on the natural hardwood floors. She shuffled over to the mirror, stunned by the disarray of her blonde hair, and gave in to a yawn.
Grandpa was going to get an earful about the rude cowboy who’d picked them up. The airport scene was bad enough, but the ride home was even worse. The silent stranger stewed in the driver’s seat and threw dirty looks her way every time she opened her mouth.
She hadn’t wanted to disturb her granddad about the situation, with him resting in bed and all, but she could hear him up and about in the kitchen now. May as well see what he has to say for the guy.
Not bothering to change out of her SpongeBob pajama bottoms and wrinkly top, she tore open the door, strode down the hall, and stopped at the entry to the kitchen. Her hands on her hips, lips poised and ready to fly, she took in her grandfather’s silhouette in the morning sun.
Thinner. Grayer. Older.
Her heart sank, burying all of her anger beneath a sudden urge to throw her arms around him and hold on tight. “Grandpa,” she called, walking nearer to do just that.
“Hey there, doll face,” he boomed. The sound of his ever-sturdy voice was deceiving, making her think he hadn’t changed over time, but he had; she was used to rounder, softer hugs from him. He’d lost weight over the last few years. The feel of his frame was more delicate now. “Oh, I’m so glad you made it.” He pulled away, moved a hand up to his mouth and covered a cough. And then another.
“Yeah, we did.” She didn’t have it in her to complain anymore. Her irritation was now replaced with concern for the kind and gentle man.
Before flying out, Mia had decided not to pursue local media attention while here. She hoped the trip would give the show a boost, but she didn’t want the ranch to gain unwanted fame or for Gramps’s life to be disrupted after they were gone.
Karen hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of bypassing that kind of attention. She’d even made Mia doubt the choice, but after seeing Gramps in his current condition, she felt justified in her decision.
“Gramps, why don’t you go get in bed and let me make you some breakfast?” She noticed a container of oats on the counter, an empty bowl beside it.
“Can’t have you doing that,” he griped. “You’re supposed to be my guest.”
“I am, Gramps. But I want to help you get feeling better so you can show me around.”
He gave her a small nod, readjusted the long bathrobe he wore, and started to shuffle his way out of the kitchen. “Fine, then. I guess you’re right.”
With her hand gently resting on his back, Mia guided him down the hall. She was surprised to see that Karen’s door was already open. She peeked her head in as they passed. Her Wolverine backpack rested on the already made bed. Her equipment rested alongside the rocking chair. But Karen was nowhere in sight.
“Where’d Karen go?”
“Your friend got up a while ago. She’s taking a tour of the place.”
“A tour?” Mia stopped walking. “With who?”
The back door slammed. “Hello?” called a deep voice.
A vision of the grumpy cowboy came to mind. Oh, please no. If that was Hunter (she hated that she remembered his name), he absolutely could not see her this way.
“Wayne?” came the voice again.
Mia pulled the covers back on Grandpa’s bed, hoping to sneak into her bedroom before Karen and whomever she brought with her discovered them.
“We’re in here,” called Gramps in his big, strong voice.
Footsteps—on the tile floor, and then in the carpeted hall—told Mia they were headed their way. She helped her granddad sit on the side of his bed, and spun around in time to see Karen and the cowboy show up in the doorway.
Mia’s face flushed with heat. She attempted to run a hand through the strands of her hair, but her fingers got snagged in the snarls. She dropped her hand and leaned on one hip. “What’s up?”
Hunter looked at her like he’d been hired to take inventory: a slow, calculating gaze lingering on her hair and then on her blue and yello
w SpongeBob pants. At last his gaze moved up to meet hers. “How are you feeling, Wayne?” he asked, shifting his focus to her grandpa.
“Oh, all the fuss,” Gramps replied. “I’ll be all right. Just gonna take another day or two.”
Mia turned back to Grandpa, hearing her mom’s voice in her head, the worried words after Grandma died: “Who will take care of him?” she’d said. But Grandpa never did remarry, and he’d done fine. Until now, anyway. She recalled the conversations she’d had with Dad when breaking the news that she’d have to skip out on the Montana trip year after year. “He won’t be around forever,” he’d said.
At the mere recollections, her priorities took a drastic shift.
“We’re not going to record today,” she declared. Sure, Mia was a perpetual slave to her schedule. Try My Life would never have seen the success it had achieved any other way. But they had a full week at the ranch. It wouldn’t hurt to take the day off and spend some time caring for a man she’d neglected for far too long. “I’m going to spend the day here and make sure he gets better.”
Karen’s eyes widened. Mia could nearly hear her unspoken words: First you say no to pursuing media attention while we’re here, and now this? But Karen nodded just the same. Perhaps she just didn’t want to speak it in front of Gramps. Thank heavens for good friends. “Okay.”
Hunter looked … doubtful, if she had to put a word to it. Yes, like he was waiting for her to amend what she’d just said.
Mia turned her attention back to Gramps. “I’m going to make you some oatmeal. Would you like toast too?”
“Sure, doll. But you don’t have to go hovering over me all the day long because of a pesky cough, you know?”
“I know.” She gathered a few pillows from the foot of the bed, tucked them behind his back and head to prop him up, and stepped toward the doorway. Karen and Hunter became the Red Sea, parting to make room for her as she neared.