“Easy. I’ll just tell them that we met in Vegas and you came for a visit,” Blake explained.
She stared at him before she frowned. “Do you really think it will take that long for the strike to be settled?”
He shrugged. “It’s a holiday weekend. There’s really no telling. Even if they come to an agreement over the weekend it’s going to take at least a day or two for the airlines to get all of the schedules lined up and the passengers from the canceled flights who haven’t found other means of transportation on their way again. And with Labor Day on Monday that’s going to delay things even more.”
“I suppose I could drive from here to Lincoln County,” Karly said, looking thoughtful.
“I know you want to get this divorce over with, but do you really want to drive fifteen or sixteen hours in holiday traffic?” he asked. “You couldn’t possibly get there tomorrow before the courthouse closes and it won’t reopen again until Tuesday. By that time the strike might be settled and you’d be able to fly.”
She didn’t look happy about what he was saying, but she finally nodded. “You’re probably right.”
“I know I am.” When she yawned, he pointed toward the hall. “I can finish cleaning the kitchen. Why don’t you go ahead and turn in for the night? Mornings around here start early.”
“How early are we talking about?” she asked, hiding another yawn with her delicate hand.
“I’ll start feeding the livestock in the barns around dawn,” he said as he loaded the dishwasher. “That will take about an hour. Since you don’t really have suitable clothes for that yet, I’ll wake you up after I get finished.”
She looked horrified. “Good Lord, are the animals even awake at that time of day?”
“They’re not only awake, they’re usually making a lot of noise because they know it’s time for breakfast,” he said, laughing.
When she yawned again, she started toward the hall. “In that case, I think I’ll follow your advice and go to bed.” She stopped at the door and turned back. “Thank you, Blake.”
“What for?” he asked, walking over to her.
“For giving me a place to stay until the strike is settled and for being so nice about all of this,” she said quietly. “You really didn’t have to be, considering how badly I handled filing for the divorce.”
He barely resisted the urge to reach for her. As he stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans to keep himself from doing something stupid like taking her in his arms and kissing her until they both gasped for air, he shook his head. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You had no control over what happened after you put the papers in the mail. And like I told you earlier, I’m old-fashioned. As long as we’re married it’s my job to provide you with a roof over your head and something to eat.”
She stared at him for several long moments before she finally nodded. “Well, thank you anyway. Good night.”
“Yeah, see you in the morning,” he mumbled as he watched her walk down the hall to the stairs.
Taking a deep breath, he waited until he heard her close the door to her bedroom before he started the dishwasher and turned out the kitchen light. As he slowly climbed the stairs to his own guest room, he couldn’t help but wonder how everything had become so damn complicated. Eight months ago, things had been simple. He’d found the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with and she’d told him that he was the man she wanted to share hers with, too.
He had no idea what had changed from the time they left Vegas until she called him a few days later from Seattle to tell him she wasn’t joining him at the ranch as planned. But one thing was sure—before she left this ranch to file for divorce and return to her life in the city, he had every intention of getting an explanation and settling the matter once and for all.
* * *
The following morning, as Karly sat on the passenger side of Blake’s truck, she looked out over the side of the mountain. On her drive up the winding road the day before, she’d been so focused on getting Blake to sign the new set of divorce papers and returning to Cheyenne to make her connecting flight back to Denver that she hadn’t taken the time to notice the scenery. Although the mountains surrounding Seattle were more lush—with tall, straight conifers, beds of ferns and thick moss carpeting the forest floor—the ruggedness of the Wyoming landscape was no less beautiful. The pine and aspen trees didn’t seem to grow as thick as the forests of the Northwest, but the jagged, snow-capped peaks and vast valleys of thick prairie grass, with colorful late-summer wildflowers, were utterly breathtaking.