go,” she said in a tone that no one could mistake for enthusiasm. She waited for Cody and the porter to lead the way.
“I think we need to go up one flight if we’re going to recheck the luggage,” she said as they zigzagged through crowds of travelers and past the last escalator toward a long corridor that seemed to lead away from the main terminal.
The porter slowed and glanced at Cody. Cody spoke to both of them as he explained, “We have to drive across town. My plane is at Midway.”
His plane? Did he say his plane?
Chapter Two
While Cody and the porter solved the puzzle of how to fit Bethany’s mountain of luggage plus two people in the small sports car, Bethany walked around the parking structure hoping to find a decent signal on her cell and trying, without success, to reach her aunt Erika.
After all, she reasoned, this man calling himself Cody had offered no credentials—not that she had requested any. He could be anybody. He could have found the little sign and decided to see who would answer to his call. The fact that the license plate on the car read ID—as in Ian Dillard—meant nothing. The fact that a kidnapper wouldn’t have the patience to retrieve her luggage and work up a sweat loading same into said vehicle… Okay, so he was probably who he said he was.
Bethany hit the speed dial for Erika once again. An impersonal recorded voice told her that the number she had dialed was not available. She could leave her number or a message. Bethany hung up. What was she going to say?
She heard car doors slamming and the murmur of an exchange between Cody and the porter as Cody handed him several bills. The porter laughed at something Cody said then trundled his now-empty cart down the aisle to where she stood. “All set, miss. You have a nice trip now.” He tipped his hat and headed back toward the terminal.
Wait! She considered shouting, but knew there was nothing the poor man could do to help. She turned and saw Cody leaning against the car. He was wearing a cowboy hat, and she couldn’t help noticing that it looked terrific on him.
“Any time you’re ready,” he called.
Was that sarcasm?
Bethany snapped her useless phone shut and strode back to the car, feeling fully in control until she got within two feet of where he still lounged against the trunk. Then she hit something on the uneven pavement and her ankle gave way. For the second time that evening he reached out and caught her.
“You might want to rethink those shoes,” he said as he set her back on firm ground with no effort.
Bethany made no comment, but walked—admittedly with more caution and a slight limp—to the passenger side of the car. Problem. Her overlarge bag-slash-handbag already occupied the seat.
“’Fraid you’ll have to hold that or stuff it on the floor under your feet. We kind of ran out of room,” Cody said as he climbed in, turned the key and backed out of the spot using the side-view mirrors. “Okay over there?”
“Just dandy,” Bethany replied.
He stopped the car and glanced at her. “I’m asking about the car next to you. Are we clear on your side?”
“Would you like me to get out and direct you?”
“Nope. Just look out that window there and tell me if I’m going to miss the guy’s rear bumper.”
When he stopped to pay the parking tab, she took the opportunity to study him again. She couldn’t help noticing how he had the bored teller laughing and jabbering away with just a smile and a compliment.
“I like what you’ve done with your nails,” he said as he handed her the money.
Bethany caught a glimpse of fingernails that were at least two inches long and painted in great detail.
“Let me see the full effect,” Cody said.
The teller punched in the time on his card and then spread both hands for him to see.
“That’s really something. Did you see this?”
This last was directed at Bethany so she leaned in for a closer look. “Amazing,” she said politely as the teller revealed the silhouette of the Chicago skyline under a full moon spread across her two hands.
“You did that yourself?” Cody asked as the woman took his money and made change.
“My son,” she replied. “He’s a tagger—got himself in trouble a couple of times so I told him, if you’re gonna paint, then make it useful.”
“He’s got talent,” Cody said as he accepted the change.
The woman smiled and leaned out the window of the booth so she could include Bethany in the conversation. “You folks have a lovely night now.”
Cody pulled the car forward and the gate opened. Bethany stared at him. Was this guy for real?
He maneuvered the car through heavy traffic and a maze of highway on and off ramps that made the complex street design of Washington seem almost simple. He made polite small talk about the flight, her family and living in the nation’s capital. She was equally polite, if succinct, in her answers. She was still trying to digest the change in plans.
“How long are you planning on staying?” he asked after conversation between them had died.
Taking this as a comment on the amount of luggage she’d brought, Bethany bristled. It wasn’t like her to take everything so personally but she was tired and this business of going to a ranch in Arizona when she’d prepped herself for life in Chicago was unsettling. Bethany did not deal well with change these days.
“I believe the wedding is to be set for spring. As soon as my aunt and your father are safely on their way to their honeymoon destination, I’ll be on a plane back to D.C.”
“To do what?”
Okay, it was an innocent question but it chafed because the truth was that she had no idea. In the year since Nick’s death she’d been adrift, and the life she’d imagined living at this time was no longer available to her. And the truth was that she was not about to say any of this to a complete stranger. So she changed the subject.
“And what do you do?”
“I run the ranch.”
“What about your father’s business—I mean, what’s your role in that?” she asked.
“It’s my father’s business. My business is managing the ranch.” There was no hint of irritation in his comment. He was just offering information as requested.
Bethany’s cell phone rang and she pounced on it as if it were a life preserver cast her way in the nick of time. When she saw that it was her aunt Erika’s number she answered immediately.
“Hi.”
“Hi, yourself. Did Cody find you?”
“He did,” Bethany replied as she glanced at Cody and mouthed, “It’s Erika.”
Cody grinned. “Hey there, cowgirl,” he shouted.
Erika giggled. “He’s such a tease. Are you two getting acquainted?”
“More or less.”
“Well, don’t let him feed you anything—not that he would. He and Ian are single-minded when it comes to getting from point A to point B. Absolutely no stops unless you can prove a medical emergency.”
“I ate on the plane.”
“Peanuts or pretzels?”
Bethany smiled. “Pretzels,” she admitted.
“Oh, Bethie, I cannot tell you what it means to me that you’ve come to manage this whole affair. I mean, I’m in a complete panic. Ian thinks it will be a cakewalk but what do men know? Are you at Midway