“Oh, that’s right. The insane hour I got up this morning finally caught up to me,” Yandi said, palming her forehead. She shooed them to get going. “Don’t let me hold you back. This bum foot isn’t going to slow me down too much.”
Hilary hung back while the two women talked about how clean the airport seemed and marveled at the golden croton plants in gigantic earthen pots. Hilary felt like a third wheel. The Invisible Woman. TheIrritated, Invisible Woman, that was.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself. You could have turned Jorie down. It’s your own fault.
Following the signs, the three of them walked from baggage claim toward the front entrance. The wall of glass before them revealed a wide blue sky, a stark contrast to the dreary gray day Hilary left behind in Idaho.
“Oh, I think I see our contact person,” said Yandi.
Meg waved. “Yep, that’s him.”
Hilary’s phone dinged again.
Earliest I can catch the next flight is Wednesday. Worst week already and it’s only Sunday. Ugh.
Her heart sank. That was half the conference. If she felt out of her element at signing up for a small farms conference before, this spelled doom for her morale. Her sister-in-law was Miss Owyhee County Ag Queen in high school. Born into the farm life, Jorie lived and breathed it. Hilary, on the other hand, was voted Most Likely to Live in a High Rise. This was Jorie’s thing, not hers.
Hilary craned her neck to see over the two tall women in front of her to no avail and looked again at her phone to read the rest of Jorie’s message. But Meg stopped and her suitcase almost tripped Hilary.
“I’m kind of dangerous with this thing. Sorry,” Meg said, swinging the suitcase to her side. She stepped aside for Hilary.
As Hilary struggled to correct the bag handle that caught on the shoulder flap of her jacket, she caught a glimpse of the man waiting for them with the BPL sign held against his chest.
She slowed.
He looked so familiar. The mop of russet hair, tousled like he’d tumbled out of bed moments ago, threw her off. Yes, of course. The hair. Its color reminded her of Will’s, though it was a few shades lighter. She stared a little too hard for a little too long and the man did a double take, probably trying to gauge her.
As much as she wanted to look away, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. His soulful eyes studied her and widened when she gave him a quick smile. The shadow of a not-quite beard trailed along his jaw, thicker in spots than others. Even from the distance, she noted his jeans were worn at the knees, yet his plaid shirt still held the yellow size sticker over his left pocket. She smiled again despite her sour mood.
Another message from Jorie appeared.
Not sure it’s worth me coming if I’m missing half the conference.
Hilary sighed. What else could go wrong today? First, her no-show sister-in-law abandons her at a conference Hilary didn’t want to come to in the first place, and now Will’s doppelgänger was here to meet her in the terminal?
This was a fantastic start to her week away from home.
Chapter Two
Dane Porter wheeled into the nearest empty spot in the short-term parking lot and unbuckled his belt. He jumped out, clicked the lock near the door handle, then noticed the ignition sensor yelling at him to pull the keys out.Thatwould have been bad.
Of course he was late. The Stetmans trusted him to pick up a few of the last-minute arrivals for the Small Farms and Sustainability Conference, even loaned him their car, and he was late.
Judging by the parking lot, the airport was busy. He hurried through the rows, almost breaking into a run before he realized he forgot the sign. The conference people would never find him with it still in the backseat.
Get it together, Dane.
He’d been rehearsing his keynote speech for tomorrow morning on the drive from Hendricks. Encouraging words, anecdotes of farm life, and the pitfalls of being a small business owner filled his head. The speech was all over the place. It didn’t feel cohesive. He’d have to work on it tonight when he was back in his room at Blueberry Point Lodge.
Inside the airport, a light-filled space with soaring glass walls and ceilings, he stopped. Somewhere four people probably wondered if they were stranded here indefinitely. He should have been here a half hour ago. He looked around for a place to stand out of the way of the crowd streaming past him and found a spot near an empty kiosk. Leaning against the kiosk, Dane caught sight of himself in a mirrored pillar nearby. His hair looked like the spiky wet coat of Poe after the dog took a swim in the pond and shook off excess water. Dane smoothed it with a hurried hand and looked around.
They spotted him first. Two very tall women waved to him in unison. One was a smilier, slimmer version of the other woman, obviously a mother-daughter team. They carried on an animated conversation together as they approached Dane, gesturing wildly with their free hands, pulling wheeled suitcases with the others.
The older woman bent forward to peer at his cardboard sign, sounding out the name in exaggerated syllables. “S-mall F-arms Con-fer-ence. Nice to meet you, Small Farms Conference,” she said. Her daughter watched her with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Dane said. “There’s no excuse. Darcy and Sean Stetman are helping acclimate the other guests back in Hendricks. They asked me to make a run here.”
The younger woman waved him off and set the bag she held on top of her suitcase. “Not a biggie. I’m Meg. This is my mother, Yandi.”
