"IT'S GOING TO BE one hell of a night," he'd said, setting his duffel bag beside her suitcase as he joined her at the end of a line of people at the airline's check in counter.
She'd turned to see a tall man dressed in jeans and leather jacket standing behind her. Snowflakes dotted his dark Stetson and the shoulders of the barn jacket. He looked completely out of place in an airport full of resigned businesspeople and frantic families.
She'd looked at her watch. "It's only two o'clock."
"Yeah," he'd said, looking unconcerned as he gave her a quick grin. "And I figure we're going to be here all night."
"I hope you are wrong," she'd replied, then turned to face the checkout counter. The clerks continued to look frazzled and defeated, but then this was Chicago in February and no one should have been surprised when a monster of a snowstorm threatened to change their traveling plans.
She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around. She hoped this man wasn't going to be a pest.
"Excuse me," he said. "Can I leave this bag with you? I'm going to make a phone call."
She looked past him and saw that they were no longer at the end of the line. "All right." Rose had said, wondering at the same time if she was breaking some unwritten rule of the airport etiquette or merely being polite to a stranger. He'd smiled, and she felt her heart stop for a second. She'd wondered later if it was a reaction to the Stetson. She didn't see many of those in Rhode Island.
"Thanks. I will be back real soon."
And of course he wasn't, since the lines at the phones were as long as the lines at the airline counters. But this line wasn't moving, either, and Rose didn't have to nudge his duffel bag more than six feet before the cowboy-because that's all she could think of to call him-returned looking pleased with himself.
"There," he said, joining her in line as if they were a couple traveling together. "Thanks."
"You are welcome." She smiled at him, despite her intentions to remain aloof. Befriending strangers in airports was not something she did. She'd never been one of those people who found it easy to talk to people she didn't know well.
"I had to see if I could get my room back," he explained.
His voice had a slight Western drawl Rose found comforting. After all, Everyone knew that westerners were friendly and hospitable. Or so she told herself.
"Oh." It was all she could think of to reply. He had blue eyes that looked straight at her. A friendly, direct gaze, not at all intimidating, she thought.
"Yep. I had to do some fast talking, they said I could have it back." He glanced behind him, where they both saw that at least fifty people had joined line. "I have a feeling we are not going anywhere tonight."
The thought was exactly what she didn't want to face.
She peered around the large man in front of her and checked the departing-flights board on the wall. Her flight to Providence, scheduled to depart an hour ago, was still listed as delayed.
"I hope you are wrong," she said. "I have to be at work in the morning."
"So you don't live here," the cowboy said.
"No," She glanced at the board again, just to reassure herself that her flight was still listed. "I've been here since ten."
"Why?"
"I thought I'd better get here early, since it was snowing." She grimaced. "I should have known everything would be delayed."
The line moved forward a couple of feet and the cowboy bent down and moved her suitcase forward for her. He wore polished brown cowboy boots with pointed toes and decorated leather.
"Thank you," she offered. They'd stood for a few moments in silence, with Rose wishing she'd eaten more breakfast than a bagel and a coffee. she glanced at her watch again, and the line inched forward another foot.
Rose wanted to go home, wanted to sink into her warm bed and watch Masterpiece Theatre on television tonight. she'd hoped to be home by nine, but even she had to admit that the odds of being stuck in O'Hare airport were increasing. Outside there was nothing to see expect swirling snow and the gray outlines of planes and trucks.
Anything that moved was doing it slowly. She wondered if she should try to get her hotel room back, or even if she would be able to find a taxi to return her downtown.
She wondered if she'd be spending all day and maybe all night in the airport.
She'd always been good at worrying.
~--------------------~
Andrew started the car. He wasn't going to push his luck by breaking the silence between them. Andrew figured Rose was going to come around eventually, especially now that he'd gotten her to admit she knew exactly who he was and where they'd met. He drove through Beauville and pointed out the local landmarks.
"Steak barn," he said, pointing to a two-storey restaurant on the corner of Main and Cotton. "Best steak in the country. Next to it is J.C Penny's, if you want to do any shopping." He drove slowly down the next block. "Movie theater, gift shop, real estate, insurance." Then, "The library. Round the corner is a grocery store."
She obligingly looked out the window.
*****
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