looking around as if surveying his domain. The wind ruffled his light brown hair. How nice to feel such confidence.
“Did the taxes go up?”
She tore her gaze from the confident man with the windblown hair. “Do cats have kittens?” Unlike the woman with the red hair, his wide shoulders were not at all hunched, as if the rain didn’t exist. “Do taxes ever go down?”
The ticket agent announced boarding for Detroit. Chance stood, his lanky frame unraveling from the seat like the Slinky toy he used to play with on the front porch steps. Slapping his cowboy hat on his head, he slid her a look. “When I get my next gig—”
“Don’t worry about it.” Standing and facing her brother, she pressed a twenty-dollar bill into his hand. “Grab a snack in Detroit.”
“Hey, I’m fine.” He tried to give the money back.
“No, keep it. As Aunt Hope would say, you’re skinny as a rail.” Despite the joking, she did worry about her brother getting on the small plane in the middle of a rainstorm. Heck, she worried about small planes on sunny days. “Good luck with the audition.”
They put their arms around each other; Sera patted his back twice before Chance pulled away. He shot her a look and then just as quickly glanced away. “Thanks, Sera. I feel like I should stick around, but this could be the one. It’s the Blue Bird, you know?” His gaze rested on the guitar case at his feet.
Sera recognized the hopeful expression on her brother’s handsome face. So what if he couldn’t help her with expenses? He really did have a shot at the big time. Unlike her, he was willing to take the risk. She punched him in the shoulder. “Remember what Dad said.”
“Love what you do.” His smile lit his face, transforming him from the average twentysomething into a star. “Bye, sis.” If looks were a prerequisite for becoming a country Western sensation, Chance Callahan was well on his way. His deep, gravelly voice lent another level of sensuality to the man with the two-day growth of beard. He slung a carry-on over his shoulder, picked up the battered guitar case and joined the line of people headed for security.
Bypassing a long line, her brother slid his luggage on a conveyor belt and walked through the security gate without a qualm, shoes and all. Of course, he was prescreened. He had done the same thing many times over the last three years.
The passengers who had just left the recently arrived plane filed through a long, transparent walkway that emptied into the lobby. Sera picked up her poncho just as the young woman with the frizzy red hair emerged. With a shrill “Mommy,” a little redheaded boy broke free from his father and ran into her arms. Hugs and kisses all around. Mom, Dad, toddler.
Watching the other passengers follow her brother onto the ramp, she wondered what adventures they were about to enjoy. More than she, for sure. Sera turned away from the lucky passengers and headed for the bar. She dared not leave until the flight was in the air.
* * *
“YOU DON’T HAVE a reservation for Alexander Kimmel?” Alex stared at the young man with the unusual mop of unnaturally white-blond hair sticking up every which way. His name tag read Scooby, which somehow seemed appropriate. The car rental agent looked to be about ten years old.
Scooby flushed bright red. “I’m afraid not.” He glanced at his computer. “However, I expect a car returned anytime now. Do you want to wait in the bar?” He flashed a toothy smile, displaying multicolored braces.
Alex wished for his sunglasses, packed away deep in his carry-on. The combination of the hair and the teeth was just too much. He gripped the edge of the counter with both hands. Surely he hadn’t heard right. “Did you say you only have two cars?”
“Well, I’m just starting out.” Throwing his shoulders back, he pointed to the sign behind him. Scooby’s Rental Cars. “Before me, Shadow Falls Regional Airport didn’t have a car rental.”
Alex hated to point out the obvious to the enthusiastic car rental agent on the other side of the counter, but somebody had to give this guy a dose of reality. “But you don’t have any cars to rent.”
Scooby shrugged. “If I don’t get my car back in time, there might be someone in the bar who can give you a ride.”
Squeezing his eyes shut, Alex pinched the bridge of his nose, hoping to stave off the headache that threatened. He never should have come, never given in. Cyrus was supposed to pick him up. Instead, he had called, saying he had an emergency with a sick cow. A new vet was on call, and he had to be there. But the regional airport had a car rental agency. Alex could rent a car. With a deep breath, Alex opened his eyes and looked around the lobby. So much for reality. “Where’s the bar?”
Bar was spelled out in fake, multicolored glass in the top of a dark, wood-paneled door. Five backless stools, a short bar and three tiny red vinyl booths crowded a windowless space. Wheeling his suitcase next to the wall, Alex propped his hip on one stool at the end and glanced at the display of bottles behind the bar. One other customer hunched over a bottle at the far end of the bar. A curtain of curly black hair shielded her face.
“What can I get for you?” A middle-aged man in a faded green T-shirt and jeans wiped the counter in front of him.
Alex studied the labels, didn’t see anything familiar, then tilted his head toward the lone customer. “I’ll have what she’s having.”
Reaching into a glass-fronted cooler, the bartender plunked a sweaty brown bottle on the counter. “Headed in or out?” He grabbed his rag and continued down the counter, wiping in a circular motion.
Alex took a long swig before answering, the tangy brew waking up his mouth. He set the bottle on the coaster. “In.”
“Good thing.” He snorted. “They just canceled the last flight in for the day.” He tipped his chin to the ceiling. “Visibility. Where ya from?”
“New York.”
He nodded, then pointed at the bottle in his hand. “I hear hard cider is getting popular in the city. True?”
Alex twisted the bottle around until he could read the label and then realized the hard cider was the same brand he had been drinking just the night before. “As a matter of fact, hard cider is becoming very popular.”
“Do me a favor...” The bartender disappeared through a swinging door, reappearing a minute later with a plain brown bottle. “Try this and tell me what you think.” He pulled three tumblers from under the counter. “Hey, Sera, want to try something?”
Sitting in the shadows, the woman looked up at the sound of her name. “Okay.” She slid off the stool. “Just a little bit.” She grabbed a yellow poncho and a big purse, and put everything on the stool next to Alex, then sat. She gave Alex a wary look before turning her gaze to the bartender.
“By the way, my name’s Mike.” The bartender smiled as he emptied the bottle into three glasses. He set one in front of Alex and one in front of the young woman. “This is a taste test.”
Picking up the glass, she raised it to her lips.
“Hold on.” Mike held up his glass and shared a big smile. “To success.”
“To success.” Alex clinked his glass with Mike’s and then tipped his glass in
