Lasso Her Heart

“I’ll call you back,” Bethany whispered, not sure why she found that necessary since practically everyone surrounding her was jabbering away on their cell phones and oblivious to her and the incredibly gorgeous man holding the sign and grinning up at her.

Cody studied the women coming down the escalator, dismissing them one by one until he spotted the redhead attached to the cell phone and shouldering one large bag in addition to guiding a suitcase on wheels that must have just barely passed the size regulations for taking on the plane.

Erika had not oversold this one even if Cody had thought she might be more than a little partial. Bethany Taft was everything that Erika had promised and more. She had flaming red hair caught haphazardly in a topknot and set off by a pair of sunglasses at the ready should Chicago have a sudden burst of glaring sunlight at nine in the evening—as it was now. Her skin was lightly tanned rather than the alabaster white he might have expected given her coloring. Then there was the model’s body that showed off to perfection the short jacket over a gauzy blouse and full print skirt that skimmed her knees. She was taller than most of the other passengers even if he discounted the ridiculous wedges of cork she was standing on and passing off as shoes. Why, he wondered, did women, beautiful women, do that to their feet?

He moved closer to the escalator and held up the sign. He saw her see it and then him. In that instant she snapped the phone closed and hoisted the bag more securely on her shoulder as she tightened her grip on the rolling suitcase and looked at him with a smile that was anything but genuine.

For an instant Cody was puzzled. Why wouldn’t she be glad to see him—to see anyone representing the end of her journey? Well, not exactly the end. He wondered if Erika had told her about the change in plans. Maybe so. Maybe that’s why she looked so…scared, he realized. She looked ready to bolt. That made no sense at all.

“Hi,” he said as the escalator track disappeared beneath her feet and she fell forward. “I sure hope that you’re Bethany Taft.” He grinned as he steadied her with one hand while reaching for the carry-on with the other. He took a split second to enjoy the fact that she smelled as if she’d just stepped out of a shower rather than off a crowded airplane.

He made sure she was balanced on her platforms and then relieved her of the bag on wheels. He made a gesture toward the shoulder bag, but she tightened her grip and he assumed this mammoth thing was actually her purse. “I’m Cody Dillard, Ian’s son.” He offered her his hand.

She returned the handshake in a very businesslike manner. “Bethany Taft,” she replied. “Nice sign,” she added as if realizing that perhaps something more cordial was needed.

“I’d like to say I made it myself but the fact is…” Cody had started walking toward the exit expecting her to follow, then realized she was not moving.

“Ready?” he asked, waving away a porter.

“I have to get my luggage,” she said.

What else could there be? Cody wondered but retraced his steps and took up the vigil with her and a hundred other passengers staring at the silent carousel and willing it to groan to life. It seemed as good a time as any to see if she knew of the change in plans.

“Did Erika call you?” he asked.

“I got the message—something about a change in plans. That she had to go somewhere with Ian and you would be here. Which you are. Thank you.”

The carousel rumbled and started to turn.

“So, you know that we have one more leg of the journey.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “The good news is that with the time difference, we’ll be there at a decent hour. The bad news is that for you it will seem like the middle of the night.”

She blinked, but said nothing. It was as if he’d suddenly started speaking in tongues. Finally she said, “The hour difference between D.C. and Chicago isn’t really a big deal.”

The crowd pressed forward as the luggage started appearing. “Actually,” Cody said as he moved slightly to secure their position and protect Bethany from being jostled, “we’re flying on to the ranch.”

“What ranch?” she practically shouted, sounding borderline hysterical as she pointed to the biggest and most colorful suitcase Cody had ever seen.

The porter was still lingering nearby and he grinned at Cody when he saw the suitcase. Cody nodded and the porter went into action.

“There are two more,” Bethany informed him. “Same pattern.”

“Same size?” Cody asked and saw that it was exactly what the porter wanted to ask as well.

“Of course not,” Bethany said. “One larger. One smaller.” She pointed to the second piece as it trundled into view on the opposite side of the circle. “What ranch?” she asked again.

“The family ranch in Arizona,” Cody replied without looking at her as he directed the stacking of the luggage. “Just outside Phoenix,” he added and turned to find her gone.

“This is so not going to work,” Bethany said as soon as Grace picked up. This time Grace answered her in a near whisper and Bethany regretted waking her friend. Grace was of the early-to-bed type while Bethany was the opposite. Bethany could not count the number of times she had awakened her friend with some disaster. Still Grace had promised to be there and it wasn’t that late—even for Grace. “Sorry I woke you but—”

“No, it’s Jud. Poor darling is exhausted. He just fell asleep on the sofa,” Grace explained. “Let me get to the other phone.” She covered the receiver with her hand and spoke tenderly to her husband. His response was a grunt.

“Jud’s been working nonstop this week and he has an early meeting tomorrow,” Grace said in a normal voice when she picked up the other phone.

“Sorry,” Bethany said and meant it, but this was such a disaster and who else was she going to call? Grace was always so together. She would offer wise counsel and advice.

“You cannot back out at this point, Bethany,” Grace said after hearing Bethany’s abbreviated summary of events so far. “I don’t care what the current situation might be. What’s the problem? Does the son have two heads?”

“No, one quite gorgeous one with a body to match.”

“Not that you noticed,” Grace said, stifling something that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle but finally came off as a yawn.

“He’s taking me to Arizona,” Bethany said.

There was a pause on the other end that told Bethany that Grace fully understood the significance of this. “Arizona?”

“Arizona,” Bethany confirmed and knew there was no need to add the obvious. Arizona, where Nick died.

“Well, honey, it’s a big state.”

Bethany knew she was doomed. Any time Grace called her honey it meant she was at a loss to offer advice. “Not big enough. The ranch is near Phoenix, which puts it near the mountains, which puts it—”

“Got it.” Grace was quiet for a long moment.

Bethany saw Cody looking around for her while the porter waited patiently. “He’s spotted me,” she muttered. “What am I going to do?”

Grace took a deep breath. “You are going to go with him to the ranch and in the morning you can remind Erika why this setting is difficult for you. She’ll understand and make sure you’re on the first plane back to Chicago.”

“You mean D.C.,” Bethany corrected, not liking Grace’s solution but knowing it was the only choice.

“I mean Chicago. Surely you can handle everything from there, and the change of scenery will do you good.”

“Gotta go. My captor approacheth.” Bethany shut the phone and turned to face Cody.

“Thought I lost you there for a minute,” he said. She supposed that his smile made a defibrillator standard equipment for any woman within range of it. At least her heart was not in need of a jump start. It had died a year earlier.

“Let’s 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.