Sassy Cowgirl Kisses by Kathy Fawcett

Chapter 2

“Dad, I’m almost home. An hour at the outside, unless I run into traffic on Mount Gander Road—ha ha. Can’t wait to see you all.”

Ash West was parked on the side of the highway, shouting into his phone over the rumble of his truck engine, as his dad’s number went to voicemail. Not surprising; Ash was in a part of Wyoming where cell reception was scant—one reason he was calling with an update while his phone still showed bars.

He’d left the freeway a few hours before, and was about to turn off the two-lane highway and onto the semi-paved Mount Gander Road, which would lead into West Gorge. With the red clay bluffs on one side, and boulders the size of houses sitting in a sagebrush field on the other side, cell reception would only get worse before it got better.

Sometimes, if the wind wasn’t blowing; if birds weren’t perched on the wire and he tapped his boots together three times while making a wish, a call would go through. But he didn’t want Ridge worrying about him, so played it safe.

Ash smiled and put his phone in the center console, then put his truck into drive once again. It had been a long few days of driving, and he was so close to home. He was sick of fast food and tired of his own company. Ash had a houseful of family waiting to see him, and no doubt, a refrigerator full of his favorite foods. BBQ pork sandwiches from Red’s and Liu’s famous spring rolls.

Maybe even a chocolate cake from Cindy’s Diner—a man could dream.

Driving along, the windows were down on his truck so he could smell the wildflowers and the pine trees. The sweet air had been washed clean in last night’s rain. He was following the mountain range to West Gorge, Wyoming.

Thunk. Thunk.

Every time the truck hit a rock or bump, the boxes in the back would come down hard. They were stuffed with four years of textbooks, Michigan State University sweatshirts and a diploma with the ink still drying.

His honors cords were in there somewhere.

The mountain peaks, Ash noticed, drew closer and became more pronounced as the sun moved high in the sky, then started to dip. A creek alongside the road widened, flowing steadily with icy water that had been snow on the mountain tops just days before. The road went from flat to gentle swells, to up-and-down hills and curves that gave zero visibility as to what was on the other side or around a bend.

“A ribbon of a highway,” Ash said out loud to stay alert. It was a line from an old song Granny used to sing, warble really, called This Land is Your Land.

As I was walking that ribbon of a highway,

I saw above me an endless skyway,

I saw below me a golden valley,

This land was made for you and me.

Since he was a boy,he thought of that song every time he travelled down a road with the hills and swells; a road that reminded him of ribbon candy on a Christmas tree.

Ash hadn’t passed a car in a long time—Mt. Gander Road, he knew, was mostly known by locals and rarely travelled. It didn’t show up on every map. That’s why it was surprising to come around a bend and see a car half on and half off the road.

“Whooooaaa,” he said in surprise, breaking hard. Ash could have swerved around the car, but not the herd of wooly sheep stretched leisurely across both lanes. It appeared they forgot which way they were heading. Sheep, Ash knew, were not that bright.

Ash was even more surprised to see a girl sunbathing and sleeping on the back of the car, wearing a tiny pink swimsuit. As he put the truck in park, she jerked awake, and quickly jumped off. Placing her hand on the car door as if about to hop in, she eyed him warily. It was then he noticed that her front bumper was firmly planted in a rock. A boulder almost as big as her car.

“Hey,” Ash said as he stepped out onto the road. Casually, he lifted his arms in the air for a stretch.

“Hey,” she shrugged, her voice still gravelly from her interrupted nap.

“Can I help you?” Ash gestured to her car.

“You can call me a tow truck,” she said, obviously in a bind.

“Okay, you’re a tow truck,” Ash said, without receiving the laugh he would have gotten back at school, where all the girls thought he was just the funniest thing ever.

“Wow, okay,” she said, not impressed.

“Naw, I’m sorry,” Ash attempted. “I’m just punchy from driving too long.”

The girl nodded again, but remained by her car with the door opened. She wanted a quick escape from the idiot comedian on the desolate road, Ash realized.

“I’ll try my phone, but the reception here isn’t the best.”

“No fooling.”

She wasn’t cutting him any slack, and why should she? The girl, he could see, was more stunning than any of the Michigan beauties he’d left behind, with her golden hair and long tanned legs. And she was in a predicament—probably waiting for help for a long time.

“If the call doesn’t go through, I’ll give you a lift into town.”

Which would be mighty nice for me,he thought.

Judging by the girl’s face, she didn’t agree.

Reaching into his truck, Ash retrieved his phone and pulled it out slowly, so as not to startle her. But his hands were suddenly sweaty, making the phone as precarious as a slippery fish—it flipped and flopped in his hands until it smashed onto the road.

The beautiful girl smiled indulgently. Her hair moved around her neck and shoulders in thick buttery waves as the breeze kicked up. She reached up to pull a tendril from her eyes and Ash felt his legs go weak. He couldn’t imagine who she was or why she was in West Gorge. He doubted she’d tell him if he asked.

So he didn’t.

“Got the phone,” Ash said nervously, “now let’s see… I have the number for Tig’s Tow here somewhere… hey, it’s ringing!”

A few minutes later, he hung up and told the girl that Tig and her tow truck would be there soon, and he’d wait with her.

“There’s no need for that,” she said as she exhaled with relief. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he said. “I’ll stay right here in my truck, then follow you into town and make sure you’re okay.”

“That’s not necessary,” she said again, looking happier than when he’d arrived.

“Well it is,” Ash said, “because that’s where I’m heading. To West Gorge.”

The girl took this in and nodded again.

“I just don’t want you to think I’m all alone.”

Ash was anxious to go—he hadn’t been home since Christmas, and could hardly wait to walk into the ranch house and see his family. If she had somebody, he wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving. But looking through her back windshield, the car was empty.

“You can clearly see,” the girl said with mischief in her voice and a twinkle in her clear eyes, “that I have forty of my closest friends with me.” She gestured towards the herd of sheep, now so at home on the road that Ash thought they might set up camp and stay for a while.

“Well, Bo Peep,” Ash said with a laugh, “I stand corrected. But I think we need to help move your friends off the road, or Tig won’t be able to get her truck to your car.”

“And neither of us will get to West Gorge,” she said.

“True. Looks like you have three choices, Bo,” he said, making a show of holding up his fingers and counting them off. “One, you can stand there and watch me try my hand at shepherding for the first time, or two, you can help me.”

“What’s my third choice?” she asked.

“Sit in your car and lock the door tight, just in case I’m a raving lunatic.”

The girl smiled, and her entire face lit up like a Christmas tree, Ash thought.

“I choose number one—I’ll stand here and watch you work.”