His mom sighed loud and long. “Danica will be disappointed,” she said in a singsong kind of guilt-tripping way.
“She’ll get over it, I’m sure.”
After hesitating, his mom said, “A few rooms are available.”
“Thanks, Mom. We’ll be there soon.”
He turned the corner, passing fields on either side of him and fighting away the pessimism this sight always instilled in him. The dilemma inside him was such an oxymoron. He’d felt more sequestered and caged within these open fields than any cubicle in his life in Chicago. It was Murphy ’s Law, he supposed, to have something get in his way every time he tried to return to his business, to where he really wanted to be.
The sight of Goldie’s truck in his rearview mirror held a small dose of comfort, though. This was the first time he could remember not completely dreading the return trip home. Now he just had to present the whole girlfriend thing to her.
CHAPTER SIX
GOLDIE ATTEMPTED TO DRIVE AND keep her eyes on the road—and Adrian’s tail lights—all while bending lower over her steering wheel for a better look at the amazing view. Everywhere she gazed was open fields and grassland. A mountain rose up in the distance, and she suspected it’d been the one to hold her hostage the night before.
She’d seen The Horse Whisperer. She knew just how far-spread Montana’s rural land was, but it was always different thinking she knew how something should look based on a movie, and seeing it for herself. She couldn’t get over the lack of trees—there were trees clustered at every turn back home. This was nothing but vast, open space, allowing the sky to dominate and spread its cloak far and wide. It took her breath away.
Ahead of her, Adrian veered onto another dirt road flanked by a tall sign dubbing the area as Rustic Ridge Ranch: Bed & Breakfast & Horseback Rides.
The driveway was a long one, bumping and jostling as she shadowed behind him to a large, beautiful home that put the sophisticated cabin in the woods to shame.
Two levels high, with exposed logs and green shutters, it was rustic posh to the max. A large, long barn was located several hundred feet away, separated from the main house with corrals and pens for animals. Several horses grazed within one of the adjacent pens, bending to sniff the patches of grass at their hooves. A handful of cars took up space in the gravel parking lot off from the main house.
Goldie knew she should be leery about trotting off and following a complete stranger home, but something inside of her had offered a comforting nudge. While fear had trickled in during the drive out here, she was glad she’d come. This place was incredible, much better than the natty hotel they’d passed.
Her stomach twisted at the comparison. The hotel might have been a little more affordable. This, though, this ranch was so charming and inviting, it must cost a fortune. She would have to put the reservation here on credit and then take the next thousand years to pay it off.
“Just for one night,” she told herself. Aunt Bethany would get back to her by tomorrow for sure.
She exited and found herself filled with amazement. The air smelled sweet, like hay and honeysuckle. Birds chirruped in the trees lining the left side of the driveway. A wrap-around porch hugged the front and sides of the main house. Flower boxes were exploding with tulips, and pansies. Daffodils dotted the beds in front of the hugging porch, and the sense of being rooted settled straight into her.
Her house back in Baldwin had never felt like this, like she wanted to dig a hole, plant herself in it, and never leave. It was picturesque and more fairytale-like than anywhere she’d ever visited. It had a back-in-time, settle-in kind of feel.
Adrian slammed his car door shut, jolting her out of her daydream. She jumped a little inside at the sight of him. Yep, she could get used to a view like him, too. He really was good-looking, with the casual swatch of his hair sweeping to one side, the shape of him in his jeans and the way his shirt spread tight across his shoulders.
“This is it,” he said.
“This is seriously the most incredible place I’ve ever seen.”
A shrug. “It’s all right, I guess. Shall we? The reception desk is just inside.”
Goldie was ready to retort. All right. All right? How could anyone with eyes look at this place and classify it as just all right?
The interior was staged like something from the Parade of Homes. Cozy and homey, it idealized the rustic part of its namesake. Cowboy hats hung above doorways, muted colors of green and brown were in every fabric, and sage and wheat filled up vases on tabletops. Exposed wooden beams stretched overhead, while a stone-clad fireplace and chimney climbed up the wall where leather couches welcomed visitors to sit. The open area also hosted a collection of round, wooden tables where a few people were sitting with coffee mugs. Massive windows also displayed an exquisite view of the surrounding land.
“There you are.” A middle-aged woman with dark hair cut to a stylish A-line scampered toward Adrian, trailed by a chocolate Labrador. The dog seemed much happier to see Goldie than the woman did. Adrian stopped at the reception desk where a teenaged version of himself sat staring at his phone.
“Goldie,” Adrian said, gesturing. “This is my mom, Sylvia Bear. Mom, this is Goldie Bybanks. She’s my friend.”
Goldie’s stomach
