They reached the ranch and Caitlin waited by her car, her hand on the door handle. She wanted Garrett to invite her in, but when he glanced at her she knew the day was over. When she got in her car, Garrett went inside. Seeing the closed door, knowing he stood on the other side, Caitlin cried. "It's not meant to be. Not yet, anyway."
At home she saw the message light blinking on the answering machine. She hit play and then started a fire. Most messages were from friends, but when she heard that voice she froze. "Soon we'll meet and discuss business. Until then know that you are being watched." Flames consumed the paper and wood and though it radiated warmth, Caitlin could not shake the chill from the message. Though the words were safe, the voice left a venomous trail. The stranger's words about needing to talk filtered through the mix. How did it connect? "What if granddaddy was considering selling the ranch and he never got a chance to tell me? He did say something that last weekend we were together about a big surprise." She needed to finish going through all of his papers, but with the day's events she had no energy to go searching tonight.
She added another log and then curled up on the couch, covered in her favorite afghan. Sleep did not come easy as the events over the past two days kept her mind working overtime. The brief encounter with the stranger reminded her of interviews with people you knew had lied on their resumes, but you wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt, because you genuinely believed they were honest and decent. In the end, you could not hire them, in case your intuition was off that day. "It comes back to the same thing, what is this so-called meeting about?"
Hours later, she awoke shivering in a dark house. A knock at the door had her grumbling. "Coming," she said, shuffling across the floor, the afghan around her shoulders.
She opened the door. "Garrett?" she said, with surprise. In one step, he pulled her into his arms. When his lips brushed against hers, she awoke to find herself on the floor. "Great. I don't even get a kiss in my dreams. What does it mean? Garrett and I are destined for friendship, only? How easy will it be living here and seeing him almost everyday, but not having more than a shoulder to lean on?"
Running her fingers through her long wavy hair, Caitlin arched her back trying to release the kinks from sleeping on a lumpy couch. She clambered into the kitchen worn out from both day and night dreams. As she put water in the coffee pot, Caitlin looked outside. Water drops glistened on the grass as the sun rose above the mountains.