From the Boots Up by Andi Marquette Page A

much you help around here. Hell, there are days I don’t know how I
get through without you.”
    “Dad? Everything okay?” she asked, half-joking.
    “Just some stuff on my mind I wanted to tell you.”
    “Okay. Thanks.” She gave him a hug, thinking that
things seemed comfortable again between them, like before she’d told him she
was gay. See you at dinner.” She stepped toward the door.
    “Oh, and Gina tells me that she’s had a hell of a
good time the past week. Said this is the most fun she’s had on a story.”
    “Told you it would be all right.”
    “Thanks, darling daughter, for putting an old man’s
fears to rest,” he said plaintively.
    She rolled her eyes. “Later, Dutchie. I’ve got mail
to deliver.” She waved the envelopes and left, the weight in one part of her
world alleviated.
    Dinner and the fire were disappointing, though,
because Gina didn’t stick around. She probably had to finish up the story, and
Meg chided herself for once again allowing a crush to override common sense. Gina
was a reporter, there to do a job. She was friendly and professional, and maybe
what Meg thought was flirting wasn’t. After all, Gina had to have boundaries
when she worked, just like most people. And maybe she was reading way too much
into some of Gina’s comments.
    Which sucked. But she really didn’t have anything to
go on. Just her own stupid crush. Or attraction. Whatever the hell it was.
    Somehow, she wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow,
which came too quickly.
    She was out of bed early and on her way to Laramie
before things got really busy at the ranch. Alice had stocked her with a travel
mug of coffee and a couple of cinnamon rolls, but she hated missing breakfast
and maybe seeing Gina. Jesus, it was like she had a virus or something. Or
worse, an addiction.
    And she hadn’t gotten her number yet.
    For networking, like Alice said.
    After lunch. She’d get it then. For sure.
    But when she parked the truck next to the office
after she’d returned and unloaded it, she realized that Gina’s Pathfinder was
gone. She strode into the office, ribcage closing in on her heart like walls
collapsing over a foundation. She clicked the mouse at the computer on the desk
and stared at the screen. Checked out, at eight that morning. She exited the
window and stared at the screen for a few minutes before she left, teeth
clenched together. And it wouldn’t have mattered had she taken one of the
ranch’s cell phones with her on her errands because Gina didn’t have the
numbers for them. And like a dumb-ass, she didn’t have Gina’s number. Not that
it mattered. No guarantee she could have gotten through out here.
    She saw Davey in the parking lot, on his way to the
dining hall.
    “Hey,” she said.
    He waited.
    “Do you know when Gina left?” She hated asking him,
but she sure as hell didn’t want to ask her dad, who might pick up on her mood
about it and she definitely didn’t want to ask Alice, because she already knew
too much.
    “Around eight. Guess she got a call from her boss
early this morning and they needed her to do something, so she had to leave
early.” He shrugged, but he sounded almost happy about it.
    “Did she say anything else?”
    “Like what?”
    “Like whether she was planning to follow up on the
story here?” Or if she was planning on going to the River Rest that night? But
Meg didn’t voice that part.
    “Not really. Just said she had to leave.”
    She nodded, slowly.
    He gave her a smug look and continued toward the
hall. She refrained from calling him an asshole.
    “Hi, hon. Everything go okay?”
    She turned toward Stan. “Yeah. Unloaded, receipts on
the desk.”
    “Good. Thanks. And your mom called this morning.”
    She swallowed her groan.
    “She wants to wish you a happy birthday.”
    “Okay. I’ll give her a call.” She went back to the
office, not wanting to get into a discussion about Gina with him. After all, to
him, she was just a reporter who came out to do