Copyright © 2011 by Vanessa Gray Bartal
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Chapter 1
An idyllic Christmas in the country sounded like a good idea when Belle made the suggestion. Ethan Prescott had been curious about Montana since his boss first returned from a trip there a few years ago and married a cowboy who owned a massive ranch. He had visions of things he had only ever seen on television—sleigh rides, roaring fireplaces and singing Christmas carols around an upright piano while sipping hot cocoa. But sitting in an airport the size of a walnut was not part of that plan.
“Ethan, when are we going to go?”
Bringing his new girlfriend, Chrissy, had also seemed like a good idea. Now he wasn’t so sure. In New York, she had seemed gung-ho to travel to Montana. Ethan had been surprised because Chrissy was a city girl, through and through. She was the type of girl who had her manicurist on speed dial for nail emergencies. But as soon as he had mentioned the possibility of Christmas in Montana, Chrissy had practically begged to come along. Ethan had been ecstatic. Beautiful, polished, and successful, she was everything he had dreamed he would find. He had no idea what she saw in him, a chatty secretary from Ohio, but he wasn’t about to ruin his chances with her by remaining in neutral any longer.
“I’ve been trying to call the Kings, Chrissy, but I can’t get a signal here,” he explained, frowning at his useless cell phone.
“What kind of place doesn’t have cell service?” Chrissy said, looking around with a sour expression.
The kind of place in the middle of nowhere, Ethan thought, but didn’t say it. After so many hours flying west, they were both exhausted. And, really, Chrissy’s impatience was understandable. They were stuck in an airport so small there wasn’t even a restaurant. Ethan had offered to raid a row of vending machines for some food, but Chrissy declared she would rather starve than eat chemicals and sodium from a machine. For that reason, Ethan hid the bag of neon orange cheese crackers he’d bought for himself, surreptitiously pulling a cracker from his bag every so often. He was starving and had no compunctions about eating anything at this point.
“What are we supposed to do?” Chrissy asked, sounding a little desperate. “We could die here.”
She was exaggerating, but only slightly. Outside the airport, snow was everywhere. There were no hotels nearby, nor any restaurants, so it was a sure sign there were no rental car agencies, either. And even if Ethan could somehow miraculously procure a car, the King’s ranch wasn’t on any map. How was he supposed to find it by himself?
He couldn’t understand why there wasn’t someone there to meet them at the airport. His boss, Belle Landry King, was known to be a detailed perfectionist. If she said someone would pick them up from the airport, then someone would pick them up from the airport. But so far no one had, and Ethan was becoming more than a little worried. If it were just him, he would bunk down in the airport, survive on vending food, and wait for help to eventually arrive. But he had a new and very grumpy girlfriend to support. Chrissy needed proper food and rest, stat.
“I’ll see if I can find a landline,” Ethan volunteered.
“’Bout time,” Chrissy snapped before jutting her lip in a determined-looking pout.
At times like these, Ethan always felt a little shallow because he knew if Chrissy was ugly, he would probably blow up at her and tell her she wasn’t helping the situation by being grumpy. But instead he thought her pouty lip looked cute, like an angry little girl. So, instead of chastising her, he bent and kissed her forehead.
“I’m sorry things aren’t turning out well,” he said.
She softened slightly and reeled her lip in. “I know it’s not your fault,” she said. “I’m hungry and tired. I’m sure you are, too.”
He smiled in agreement before turning to try and locate a phone. A few minutes later, he found one in the entryway of the airport between the outer and inner doors. Even though it wasn’t exactly outside, it was still freezing in the entryway. Ethan’s teeth chattered as he tried to make his newly numb fingers dial the correct numbers. He was thankful years of knowing Belle and Cam had prepared him for Montana weather. His bags were stuffed with warm clothes, but he hadn’t put them on yet because New York had been almost balmy when he left, and he didn’t want to swelter on the plane.
When a buzzing signal sounded in his ear, he double-checked the number for Belle’s house. After assuring himself he had dialed correctly, he tried again, but the signal remained the same. He frowned, trying to determine what the signal meant. Was it a busy signal, or were the lines down? Seeing how much snow was outside the airport made him think the second option was more likely.
“Great, just great,” he muttered. Now what was he to do? How could he go back inside and tell Chrissy they were stuck at the airport until further notice? Maybe it was disloyal to think it, but he was quickly becoming sorry he had brought Chrissy along. The stress of this trip could prove to be too much for their fledgling relationship. In New York they were always so busy they had barely been able to find time for dates. Ethan had simply wanted to get away with her and spend quality time. But not like this. This was miserable, and his inability to solve the situation wasn’t winning him any points.
His steps were slow and measured as he plodded back to the bench where Chrissy sat. Her hopeful expression sent his heart plummeting even more.
“Did you get hold of them? Where are they? When are they coming? How soon can we leave here?” In her eagerness, the questions poured out of her and jumbled together. Ethan pretended to take his time sorting them while he tried to compose his thoughts.
“Well,” he drawled, “I didn’t…” His words trailed off while his attention was distracted by the arrival of a newcomer. Normally, he was a one-woman type of guy. He didn’t cheat on his girlfriends, and he didn’t allow his eye to roam. But those principals did nothing to stop his galvanized gaze from fastening on the woman who now stood before him. Not just because she was arrestingly beautiful, but because she was like a character from a movie—Pocahontas, to be exact. He had never seen a Native American in real life, and now he was sure he was seeing a warrior princess come to life. His mouth opened, releasing a puff of air as he stared, dumbfounded. He expected her to speak some foreign tongue that he couldn’t understand, but when she spoke the words were in English.
“Ethan Prescott.” She said his name as a statement, shocking him further into speechlessness. “Come with me. I’m here to take you home.”
When she turned to go, Ethan grabbed his bag and followed with no thought to the blond girl he had brought from New York.