His client stirred in the passenger seat, making sounds that let him know she was waking up from her nap. Yawning long and loud, Bonita opened her eyes.
“What time is it?”
“Just after nine.”
Tater, who had jumped down from Bonita’s lap some time ago, heard her voice and raced up to the front from the back of the rig.
Sitting up, Bonita reached down to pet Tater. “I’ve been asleep for five hours?”
“Just about.”
She stretched her arms, groaned and then yawned again. “Coffee.”
That one word made Gabe smile. He didn’t know why he found Bonita’s grouchiness adorable instead of annoying.
“I’ll pull off at the next exit. Tater needs a break and we could use some gas.”
“How’s Val?”
“Eating hay.”
Out of habit, Gabe glanced at the screen to his right showing a live video stream of Val. If he was eating hay and making manure, most likely all was well with the Oldenburg.
Gabe had a feeling from his first meeting with Bonita that she had him written off as a dumb cowboy. It wouldn’t be the first time in his life that high-end horse owners had prejudged him. But his ability with horses spoke for itself and people who wrongly judged him usually paid a premium to hire him again. He’d seen a small shift in Bonita; yes, she was a skeptic or she wouldn’t have insisted on babysitting him on a road trip, but he felt her trust in him growing. And for whatever reason, in particular, he wanted Bonita to trust in him.
“Can I get anything for you?” Bonita asked after another yawn and stretch.
“No. I’m good.”
He had stopped to fill up the tank with fuel and give his passenger and Tater a break from the road. Bonita wasn’t used to road trips; she was used to taking a quick flight to her destinations on her father’s private jet. Traveling on the road could be tedious, he more than anyone knew that, and they would just be reaching the halfway mark when they would pull in to Grimes later on today.
As he watched Bonita walk toward the convenience store, her oversize sweatshirt swallowing the top half of her body and her long, ponytail swinging behind her, he was actually shocked that she hadn’t jumped at the chance to fly back to Bozeman. His first thought was that she didn’t trust him to get Val home safely, but then he reconsidered. Bonita appeared to be the type of woman who didn’t like to fail at anything. Perhaps leaving a challenging trip early would have been a sign of defeat to her. If he was right, he could respect that about her.
He was just wrapping up his business at the pump when Bonita rejoined him, carrying two fountain drinks and a bag full of donuts.
“I got some for you, too,” she said, unhappily.
“Thank you.” He didn’t indulge in sugar too much with the hours of sitting he had to do when he was transporting. But he wasn’t going to turn down a nice gesture on her part.
Still frowning, Bonita looked at her purchases. “Just look what this trip has done to me already. I’m in sweats, I haven’t brushed my hair, no makeup, and I’ve completely abandoned any semblance of a healthy diet.”
He was about to banter back, when Bonita suddenly started to run in a circle, screaming about a bee.
“Is it on me?” She was swiveling her head around from one direction to the other, trying to look behind her.
Gabe walked over to her to inspect the parts of her back that she couldn’t see. “It was just a little ol’ honeybee.”
“You don’t understand! Those little suckers hunt me down and sting me wherever I am! I’m not paranoid. They come after me in particular. I was stung three times last summer! You laugh, but it’s true.”
“Well, he’s gone now,” Gabe reassured her. “They weren’t bothering me.”
“Well...maybe you just aren’t as sweet as I am.”
Gabe opened the passenger door for her and gave a little tip of his cowboy hat. “There’s no denying that.”
“Okay,” Bonita announced after taking a shower, changing her clothing and putting on some makeup. “Now I actually feel like a normal human again.”
After five more hours of travel, during which she was subjected to the full Willy Nelson catalog, they arrived at an equestrian facility in Grimes, Iowa. Considering the name of the town, Bonita was pleasantly surprised by the accommodations for Val. The stalls were a generous size and well maintained. There was a separate turnout paddock for Val, so she could be assured that he wouldn’t get injured trying to figure out his position in the herd hierarchy.
Once they got Val unloaded and settled and after they cleaned the mobile stall, which gave Bonita a chance to work off some of her junk food calories, Gabe found an overnight spot to park the rig. Part of the living area expanded outward with a simple push of a button, adding additional square footage to the kitchen and sitting area. The rig had solar panels on the roof, so Gabe could park the rig away from electrical hookups. He had found a spot to park the rig that would allow them to see Val in his paddock.
Gabe was sitting at the dining table, a table that resembled a booth in a diner with bench seats on either side. Bonita slid into the bench opposite Gabe, feeling refreshed and awake for the first time that day.
“What’s the plan for dinner?” she asked. In her family, food was important and meals were meant to be an event.
Gabe put down his phone and looked at her. Every time their eyes met and held, she was struck by how clear and blue the cowboy’s eyes were. She couldn’t always see them, for the brim of his hat, but when she did, it was a moment that lingered in her mind. There was a raw honesty there. And a kindness that always surprised her. She supposed she had a set opinion of men who wore cowboy boots and hats, and it wasn’t, upon reflection, a positive one. Gabe was, little by little, changing that opinion.
“I usually stock what I need.” He paused a second and then added, “I wasn’t expecting company.”
Bonita felt an immediate pang of guilt. She should apologize for barging in on the trip. She’d always had a difficult time apologizing—even when she knew she was squarely in the wrong, like now. The words I’m sorry just couldn’t find their way to her lips. Instead, she stood up, went over to the kitchen cabinets and started to assess the situation. After scouting the refrigerator and the cabinets, Bonita, who had been cooking since she was young, already had several dishes in mind that she could make for dinner.
“You have ingredients for fajitas, a breakfast burrito or steak and eggs,” she said as she wound her long, damp hair into a knot on the top of her head and secured it with a ponytail holder from the front pocket of her jeans. “What’s your pleasure?”
Gabe looked at her like he was caught off guard by her offer. “I have all that in there?”
“Yes. You actually do.” She laughed, feeling happy for some unfathomable reason. “You don’t cook?”
“I