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Dash laughed under his breath. “Then we’ll have to head to The Barking Dog and close them down as well.”
I lifted my mug of coffee. “Deal. We’ll drown our sorrow in pie, then whiskey.”
Before I could take a sip of my now cold coffee, Jessie turned to us. “Hey, boys, isn’t this where your girl’s going?”
She turned up the volume on the news channel and Dash and I stared in horror as the headlines streamed across the screen. Brazil: Indigenous tribe killed by gold miners.
There were few details along with some looped stock footage of a river and tropical rainforest, but a quick search on our smartphones told us everything we needed to know.
Our girl was heading into trouble. Yeah, Brazil was a huge country, bigger than the US. Yeah, there were tons of indigenous tribes in the Amazon. Still. Avery wasn’t safe if this was where she was headed and every protective instinct in my body went on overdrive.
My heart was pumping when Dash looked up from his phone’s screen. I knew he was on the same page but the look of determination in his dark eyes confirmed it. “Let’s go make sure our girl’s safe,” he said.
I was already slipping out of the booth before he finished speaking. Dash slapped some money down on the table and we bolted out of there. On the ride to the airport, I looked up flights on my phone and booked us one way tickets to Rio via Atlanta. The last flight to Atlanta left in ninety minutes and the way he put his foot down, we would just make it.
“What’s our plan when we get there?” I asked.
Dash shook his head. “No idea. I guess we track down Avery and make sure she’s safe.”
“Even if she’s safe, she won’t want to come back with us,” I reminded him. “She left once. She’ll do it again for somewhere else. Iceland, Ireland. Hell, even Iowa.”
“Then we’ll stay with her in Brazil until she’s done with her assignment and out of danger.”
When he looked at me again it was with a question in his eyes. He wanted to know if I was on board. It would mean postponing some appointments at the animal hospital, but we could make it work. “I’m with you on this,” I said. “We’ll stay as long as she needs us.”
I didn’t state the obvious. She might not even want us there. But whether she wanted us or not, we’d be there for her. We’d always be there for her.
* * *
AVERY
* * *
Thank god for my layover in Atlanta. If I hadn’t had such a long wait followed by a delayed flight to Brazil I might never have seen the news. Not until it was too late, at least. Hell, I was heading straight into the danger zone.
The murders might not have occurred where I was going…but then again, it was possible something similar could occur. My gut was telling me to steer clear, at least until things settled down. Perhaps, permanently. I had no doubt I’d get a call from my boss telling me to cover the killings, to investigate the gold miners as it was big news. Yeah, right. I tackled travel pieces, not current events. Especially not dangerous current events.
I could turn down this job and…and what? I happened to know two guys who’d be happy to see me if I returned to Montana.
Oh, who was I kidding? I was relieved to have an excuse to go back Bridgewater. My heart was begging to get on the next flight headed west, to Dash and Jackson and to my aunt and Jackson’s welcoming family. Even my head was getting in on the act. For once. I found myself staring up at the delayed flight updates on the monitor but not seeing a thing. I was too busy thinking of all the stories I could write when I got back. Safe stories without Mexican rebels or ruthless gold miners.
Not just about Rory’s and Cooper’s helicopter company or Hawk’s Landing, though those would be a great start. But I had a million ideas. Enough to get on board with Rachel’s idea about the Montana travel magazine.
My pulse quickened at the thought. Starting a magazine from scratch. Making it mine. Sharing the good things about Montana. Promoting my friends. Everything I missed when I went off for my job. Not my parents, no. Nor my sister. Every other thing about Bridgewater was amazing. I could show all that to the world without having to leave. I looked around the gate area, suddenly antsy to grab the next flight—and not to Brazil.
To Montana.
Was I really considering this?
Yes, yes, I was.
The gate agent behind the counter saw me standing there, probably staring into space like I was lost or on drugs or something. “Ma’am, can I help you?”
Stirred from my thoughts, I shook my head. “Um, no thanks. My flight to Rio is delayed, I was just checking the new time.”
I was really considering going to Bridgewater. For real and for no other reason than because I wanted to. For the first time in my life, I was contemplating giving up my nomadic lifestyle for one of stability.
Whoa.
