“So, what’s up with your sex life?” Leah asked.
“Where did that come from? What do you mean?” Mia feigned innocence, but her own tequila consumption made pretending increasingly difficult.
“You know, that thing that you and other women do? With each other? I’m guessing, in your case, rarely. Weren’t you talking about dating that breeder you met in Calgary?”
Mia drank her shot. “Not the right fit.” She looked at Leah’s expression of doubt and calmed herself. “Seriously. She wasn’t. I feel like I’m almost ready to date again. Really. Maybe.”
Maybe with the right woman. Maybe with one who’s not so right.
“Okay, okay. But, Mia, I swear I know Sid. I can’t help but think we know her. Do you still have your yearbooks? We should look. No, on second thought, she’s too young for our high school years. Maybe we saw her at the Stampede? Do you think she’s a barrel racer? She has the body for it. Long legs and broad shoulders. Nice biceps, too, did you notice? And she looks great on a horse. A regular Alberta Amazon.”
As Leah espoused the inarguable physiological virtues of Sid Harris, Mia retrieved the bottle, filled their glasses, and looked out over the valley. She found herself rubbing the finger where her wedding band used to be and turned toward the faint sound of retreating hooves.
“Well, it certainly seems like you’re ready to me,” Leah said softly, raising her glass.
Limes really are for cowards.
Chapter Five
It was no mystery where the sweat came from. In the heat of the morning sun, tequila oozing from her pores, Mia had only herself to blame. After all, she had done as much of the pouring as Leah had the night before, and the early morning run might have been a decision made while still under the influence of the evil gusano, the mythic tequila worm. No T-shirt, no matter its promise to wick, stood a chance. She was dripping.
As Mia started up the dirt road, the breeze against her back tempered only a fraction of the sun’s heat, which was rising eerily, surrounded by the deep red of a blood orange. Rain was sure to come, which would be a relief to the crops and help settle the dust collecting in her shirt, but the forecast meant that if Milo was going to get two hours of command training, she would need to get it done this morning.
She smiled regretfully, remembering a sign she saw over the door of one of her favourite dive bars in Key West. “This tequila tastes like I’m not going to work tomorrow.” She wished she had that option. Like humans in the heat and humidity, work dogs fatigued more readily. Since Milo was at the end of his second week, he wasn’t conditioned for the endurance required for long sessions, so fewer hours for consecutive days were in his best interest, and Mia didn’t feel it fair to deny Milo simply because she hadn’t been her own liquor control board.
Maybe I made a few bad choices over the past twenty-four hours, but at least I fueled up. She credited herself for drinking two large glasses of water before her head hit the pillow last night and for downing a double dose of an electrolyte hydrator and a protein bar before heading out into the morning.
Approaching the base of the T-junction, Mia first considered taking a left and heading north past the Millers’ homestead, her usual route. But today she was on a schedule and couldn’t take the chance that Beth might stop her for a chat, so she turned south and continued on the shoulder, focusing as best she could on her breathing and stride in order to distract herself from the river of sweat tickling between her butt cheeks.
* * *
Sid liked to drive, especially in her dad’s pickup and most especially in the country, even pulling a livestock trailer. There were no taxis or cyclists or streetcars to contend with, and she felt pure exhilaration to roll down the cab’s windows and settle in for a trip to anywhere. The nearest such “anywhere” was thirty or so minutes from the Harris farm, and this morning’s “anywhere” was another fifteen minutes beyond that. The stockyard she and Aaron were headed to was near the main highway heading south into Calgary.
As they cruised toward the interchange that would put them on course, Sid could make out a figure running on the opposite side of the road in the same direction. It was a rare sight given that the typical farm day provided a workout far and away more rigorous than a gym could and left the hardworking with little extra energy to spend. Starting the day with a run, well, that seemed a bit much.
Sid slowed as she closed the distance to the runner. If the sweat-blotched fabric sticking on the glistening toned and tanned curves didn’t make it easy to see it was a woman, then the ponytail bobbing up and down with each stride did.
Of course. Mia.
Sid’s suspicion was confirmed when she felt her own breath catch at Mia’s quick shoulder check.
Damn. She saw me. Oh well, of course she did.
Sid felt oddly cornered, which she knew was ridiculous given that she was driving in a big truck, and Mia was, well, just running. Size and speed were on Sid’s side. But she nonetheless hoped against hope that the pickup hadn’t slowed so much that Mia would know it was her.
So what if she did? Why does it matter? I was just being courteous by slowing. It’s how we do things. Why did I have to have the window open?
“See something you like?” Aaron’s words popped Sid’s ballooning contemplations like a thumbtack.
“Not interested in women at the moment,” she replied quickly, her heart racing, and her foot already pressing heavier on the gas as if to catch up. She was lying, of course, and she suspected Aaron knew that. He was the only one who had ever beaten her during family poker games, though only rarely. In the business Sid was in, keeping emotion in check was a necessity and a skill she had mastered in order to survive her teens. But as steely as she could be, it was impossible not to notice the tight physique, the sexy arch of the woman’s back as it flowed down into muscled but nicely rounded glutes and sculpted thighs and calves she had only seen on serious cyclists.
“Oddly enough, neither am I.” Aaron’s laugh was enough to check Sid’s distraction, but she knew he’d rally if she didn’t steer him in a different direction.
“When are you going to settle, cuz?”
“Maybe sooner than later,” was Aaron’s cryptic, almost musical reply. It was the kind of baiting intended to create drama, a conversational equivalent of glitter, and Sid refused to sparkle along.
“Speaking of sooner, do you think we’ll be back with Bullwinkle before the rain hits? Not that I’ll melt if we’re not, but it’s been a while since I’ve hauled a trailer and on slippery roads…”
“No worries, Sid, I’ll drive back. So, you’re going with Bullwinkle now?”
“Yes. Why? You don’t think it’s a good name for our new bull?”
“I think it’s great. I also think it’s great that you’re all hot and bothered by that girl you didn’t notice back there. Sorry, woman. Makes me feel like I’ve got someone to keep me company on the lust train.” More glitter. This time, Sid was happy to give over the drama.
“Okay, cuz, what’s his name?” She smiled broadly as they turned onto the highway access road.
“Greg. Yes, again.”
Chapter Six
By the time Mia returned from her run, changed into dry clothes, and wrapped up her session with Milo, it was late morning, and the clouds, though still in the distance, were on a direct path for the area. She could hear Leah bumping around in the trailer, a signal that she was up even though the blinds were still down. Some things never changed; Leah knew how to sleep.
Mia swung open the door, and daylight filled the Airstream.
“Oh God, Mia, please! The light!” Leah shielded her eyes with her arm, Garbo-esque, leaving it there until the door fell shut. She stood in the kitchen, chewing on a protein bar, her head wrapped in a towel turban. “What were you thinking? And why did you let me sleep so late? I have a flight this afternoon.”
“No worries; at least you’re already showered and dressed. You have plenty of time. To be honest, my only t
hought this morning was how to keep the Alberta dustbowl out of my mouth. Tequila! Why?” While she ranted, Mia dropped a handful of ice cubes into a large glass and filled it with iced tea.
“I know.” Leah laughed, sliding last night’s jeans and hoodie, both immaculately folded, into a vacuum pouch. “Why do we do it?”
“Tradition. Want one? It’s bergamot. No sugar.”
“Please.” She peered out the window and shook her head. “No, wait, on second thought, no time. I’d like to stay ahead of the rain. It’s been so dry. I don’t want to chance washouts on the road.” Leah sat down on the space-saving travel bag, and the air whooshed out; she zipped it closed and tucked the rigid envelope under her arm.
Mia was filling a travel mug with tea and ice while Leah unwrapped her head and towelled her hair, worked in a bit of product, and pieced it into place with her fingers. With her pixie haircut, she reminded Mia of sportscaster celebrity Robin Roberts whose hair, even when messy, still looked perfect.
“I had the craziest dreams,” Leah said over her shoulder, sliding small bottles of shampoo and various makeup off the bathroom counter into a toiletries bag. “I knew something was percolating when I met Sid last night. Remember? Well guess what? When I woke up, it came to me.”
Mia was pouring a second glass for herself—having already downed the first in one gulp—as Leah headed for the door, bags in hand, still talking at a pace as quick as she moved.
“I was at the opening of the Vezina Gallery in Montreal in the spring, and Sid was there. She was one of the guest speakers. I think it took me a while to figure this whole thing out because in art circles, she goes by Cassidy.”
Cassidy Harris. Not possible. The incongruity was beyond Mia’s belief, and her brain worked to banish the notion.
Sid. Cassidy. Fancy. With her big truck. So subtle. Mia could still feel the woman’s eyes on her sweaty ass.
Milo bounced at Leah’s feet as she stepped out of the trailer. Mia scanned for Flynn, who normally would have joined in but who had opted for a shady spot under the table. Mia took the opportunity to change the subject.
“Come say good-bye to Leah, Flynn.” At this, he slowly got to his feet and sauntered over, his tail wagging barely.
“Cassidy Harris. Sid is Cassidy Harris.” Leah was unstoppable, continuing her story as she popped open the back of the rental Range Rover. “The art curator from the Northern Lights Gallery.”
Mia knew the gallery. It was one of the most respected in the country. Surely its curator and the maniac on the ATV were not the same Sid Harris. Mia tried to imagine Sid traveling in art circles, clinking glasses with the sophisticates and breaking bread with the bon vivants of the Toronto art scene. Maybe with a change of clothes. She mentally dressed her in evening wear, then considered undressing her. Sid’s hair, that lovely auburn hair, flowing down her shoulders. Jewelry. Dark green emeralds. Like her eyes. Mia found herself parched again, and she took a swig of her own tea to quench the thirst. The curator of Northern Lights Gallery? Maybe when spit-shined. But her temperament? No way. It had to be a different Sid Harris.
“And she was at the gala with Aurora St. Germaine.” Leah didn’t wait for Mia’s reaction, as she carried on. “Yes, that St. Germaine. The one with the fresco in the new ferry terminal on the island. Can you believe it?”
Mia was glad Leah hadn’t looked because as aware as Mia was of her facial cues and gestures—a skill required for her work—she knew she wasn’t hiding her response to what felt like a kick in the solar plexus. No need to think a moment more about Sid, who had already occupied too much of her headspace over the last twenty-four hours. Besides, Mia had a hard and fast rule about dating people in relationships: She didn’t.
Leah unzipped and flipped opened the enormous hard-sided travel bag in the truck and tucked her plastic-sealed clothes and toiletries bag in, then squeezed it shut as if she’d done it a million times. Mia suspected she probably had; as a senior partner in an international legal firm, Leah was always here or there. In fact, she’d met Jim in Amsterdam while on a business trip. She continued to talk as she walked toward the driver’s side and opened the door, almost knocking the travel mug out of Mia’s hands.
“The colleague I was there with is Aurora’s counsel. She mentioned that the two are dating. Curator by night. Rancher by day. It’s like she has a secret identity. And her super power is her sexy gorgeousness. Aurora St. Germaine and Cassidy…Sid. Dating. Crazy, right?”
All three? Mia, always her own best audience, nearly laughed out loud.
Leah wrapped her arms around Mia, petted the dogs, and settled into the Rover. She put on her seat belt and lowered the window before closing the door. Mia handed her the traveler mug of iced tea through the window. She tried not to look as disappointed as she felt.
“Damn, Mia, I’m sorry. That wasn’t very sensitive of me. I saw the way you looked at her. And we all saw the way she looked at you, didn’t we, boys? In fact, I might be a superhero too, because last night while she was here, I was invisible. You two only had eyes for each other. If I hadn’t been tipsy, I would’ve been embarrassed for the both of you.”
“Are you still tipsy? Maybe you shouldn’t drive. Can I call you a cab?”
“Hilarious. I’m perfectly fine. Thanks for the tea. Just remember, Sid may be taken, but there are plenty of fish in the sea.”
Mia shook her head and couldn’t do much else but smile. Her friend’s motives were well intended, just seriously misdirected. There wasn’t time to reset. “I don’t even know where you’re off to. Toronto?”
“Not this time. I have discoveries in Calgary starting Monday, and if my case prep goes well, I’m hoping to catch the Emily Carr exhibit tomorrow night to break up the weekend. Should wrap up by next Friday, and then I’m home to Jim…to celebrate.”
Mia smiled, noting her friend’s revived optimism.
“But if any of that’s going to happen, I have to make my flight. I’ll give you a call when hubby’s results are in; they tell us next week. Thanks for being here for me. Love you, Mia.”
Mia gently touched Leah’s cheek, knowing that while she was all business on the outside, she was turmoil inside. “Love you back.”
Leah nodded and put the Rover into gear.
Mia watched, sipping her tea as her friend pulled to a stop at the T-junction at the bottom of the slope. Flynn was still under the table, ears perking up now and again, signaling there was likely thunder in the distance. She was pleased to see that Milo, happily chasing a rolling ball of twigs and grass, still had some energy. Provided the weather held, she hoped to do another hour with him this afternoon. As she watched the Range Rover across the landscape, she noticed another vehicle heading toward it.
Sid’s truck. Cassidy’s. Whatever. Aurora St. Germaine’s girlfriend.
The Harris pickup and trailer moved slowly past, an arm waved from the passenger side, and Leah’s arm raised in greeting. Mia turned and headed back to the trailer, again parched.
“Come on, Flynn, Milo, the air conditioner is on, and I think we could all use a cooldown.”
Chapter Seven
It was only after her third glass of iced tea that Mia began to feel less jittery and more like herself. Learning about Sid’s world had startled her and left her feeling unsettled. It had been a long time since her hormones had been stirred by a beautiful woman, and Mia realized with some sadness that she yearned for touch, for the tenderness of a woman’s hand on her shoulder, the sweetness of soft lips on hers, and the smoldering passion she hadn’t felt since her years with Riley.
She stepped out of the cool trailer into the heat, leaving the dogs behind so they wouldn’t be underfoot as she gathered things in preparation for the weather change. The arched storage tent had proven over the years that it could withstand some pretty tough winds, so she confidently moved the table, the fold-up Muskoka chairs, and the grill into it, zipping up and pulling down the side awnings and securing them to the spiral ground pegs.
She was about to head into the trailer when a dusty Ford Ranger pulled up. Mia smiled, remembering from her childhood that it was impossible to keep anything white during a dry prairie summer.
“Hey there!” Beth Miller called from the cab. “You’re in my bad books, little girl. How dare you steal my daughter’s attention? I think I saw her for all of ten minutes this trip.”
“Well, you have Jose Cuervo to thank for that. He always has his way with us.”
“Don’t I know it.”
Beth gestured to her companion, who walked beside her carrying a small square straw basket, its contents hidden by a white linen cloth. “This is my friend Isabel. Isabel, this is Mia Jarvis.”
“Hello, Mia, I’ve heard so much about you!” Isabel’s words seemed genuine, and her smile shone from a face warmly weathered and tanned in a way that said she laughed a lot. Mia was instantly drawn to her and, knowing that she was a friend of Beth’s, ignored both the Harris connection and her proffered hand to give her a hug.
“So nice to meet you, Isabel. What on earth smells so delightful?” Mia’s stomach was growling, a sign that her hangover was subsiding.
“I made some tortillas this morning. These are for you.”
Where We Are Page 4