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1
HAPPY HOLIDAYS
Carissa Cole was an expert at keeping her cool, most of the time, but she was completely out of spoons. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” She stared at the ticket agent and tried to keep from raising her voice. “You’re certain there’s no other flight?”
“Not until tomorrow.” The woman in her snappy blue uniform accessorized with her blinking Christmas light necklace and her snowman earrings gave a little smile. The kind that said ‘don’t murder me, please.’ “I apologise, but since the pandemic we’ve reduced the number of flights—”
Carissa put a hand up. “Forget it. I know it’s not your fault.” It was no one’s fault. Her flight out of San Francisco had been delayed because of fog— enough so that more than twenty hours later and despite the pilot’s assurances that he had ‘made up lost time,’ she’d still landed too late to get through customs and make her connection. Even worse, her luggagehadsomehow made the flight she hadn’t, and was winging its way to Tamworth, while she was stuck at the Sydney airport for another twenty-four hours.
“If you’re in a rush, you could rent a car?” The ticket agent’s voice was tentative, as if she was almost afraid to make the suggestion.
“No.” Maybe if she hadn’t just spent a 20-hour flight not sleeping and starving half to death on the pitiful airline food, she would’ve taken the suggestion and driven herself the five plus hours to Bindarra Creek, where her bestie lived. But she knew her limits, and she had already surpassed them, which was made even more clear when her stomach rumbled. No way could she safely drive—on the ‘wrong’ side of the road, no less—and get to her destination in one piece when she was exhausted and hangry. “I guess put me on standby for tomorrow’s flight.”
After giving her information to the ticket agent, she went back to the waiting area and dropped down into one of the seats.
“Crap!” So much for keeping herself together. She must’ve spoken louder than she’d meant to, because the mother in the seat opposite her shot her a narrow-eyed glare and started explaining to her barely school-aged kid that ‘some people use words that aren’t very nice when they’re upset.’
She pulled out her phone and almost dropped it. “Holy shi—zzballs!” With a quick glance at the mom across the way, she managed to course correct just in time, earning her a half-hearted grimace-smile from the other woman.
While she’d been talking to the ticket agent, her phone had blown up with a million texts from her bestie, Lena. Carissa scrolled through the requisite ‘OMG NO’ and ‘UGH how awful’ and ‘I’m soooooo sorry’ and ‘you must be so exhausted’ texts. Finally, at the end of Lena’s text barrage was a message that simply read:
New plan. Call me. Immediately
She’d barely pressed ‘call’ and the phone hadn’t even finished its first ring before Lena answered. “I can’t talk long—got a colicky horse and the vet on the way—but can you get yourself to the Bankstown Aerodrome?”
“Um…aerodrome?” Carissa put the phone on speaker and pulled up her maps app, quickly typing the location in.
Lena laughed. “Aerodrome, airport, whatever. Bankstown. Can you get there? In the next hour or two?”
“Yeah, I can get an Uber or something. But… why?” She was pretty certain Lena had skipped over several crucial pieces of information. “I can’t exactly afford a private jet.” Which was what a quick internet searched told her flew out of Bankstown, along with business, corporate, and chartered flights. None of which were in her budget, because as of five days ago, she was unemployed, the racetrack where she’d worked permanently closed. Not that she’d been all that flush with cash when she’d still had a job. As a freelance exercise rider, most things had been out of her budget. Heck, she’d scrimped and saved all year just to be able to manage the flights to visit Lena.
“Well, it’ll be private, but it’s not exactly a jet.” Lena let out another little laugh. “Heath’s friend—he’s a pilot. With a plane. And when he heard you were stuck, he offered to come get you. He’s already on his way.”
“Are you kidding?” Kidding was apparently the word of the day.
“Nope! Bankstown Passenger Terminal. He’ll find you there. I gave him your number so he can text you.”
“Okay, but—”
“Shoot, the vet’s here. I’ve got to go, but don’t worry. You’ll love Lachie. Everyone does.” With that, Lena was gone.
Carissa stared down at her phone. She shouldn’t complain, but she was too tired for Lena’s barely sketched plan. How was she supposed to even find this guy she didn’t even know in the middle of an airport terminal? She didn’t even have his full name, or his number. Not to mention, she didn’t want to head to some alternate location in a city she didn’t know, in a strange country, to meet a strange man and entrust her life to him while he flew around in his ‘private’-not-a-jet plane. That partreallyworried her. She’d barely held it together for the take-off and landing on the monster jet that had gotten her to Australia. How was she going to keep from dying of anxiety in an even smaller plane?
Nope. Carissa didn’t like anything about the plan. And who the heck was this friend of Heath’s? She was certain Lena had never mentioned anyone named Lockie before. She would remember that, becauseLockie? What the heck kind of name was that? Was it short for Locket? Padlock? Lockjaw? Lockbox? Or was it Lochie, as in the diminutive of a tiny little Scottish lake?
Her phone buzzed with a text. From Lena.
Lachie’s info
Attached to the message was a contact entry, which only said ‘Devine’ and included a phone number and nothing further. Was it even the right contact number?
Great thx. But how will I recognise him?
can’t miss him. Now get going or he’ll beat you there
If she hadn’t been in public, Carissa would’ve let out a frustrated growl over that last text. Why couldn’t Lena just send a pic? This was a woman who had been known to delete apps just to have enough space on her phone for more photos. The only consolation was that Lena had said “everyone loves Lachie.” At least he wasn’t a jerk. Also not a locket or a tiny Scottish loch, if the spelling of his name was anything to go by.
Carissa’s phone buzzed in her hand, startling her. Another message from Lena.
