Page 22 of The Earl’s Wrangler (Cowboy Nobility #3)

IT SEEMED that getting a passport at the last minute was a big deal with many obstacles, not the least of which was the trip to Cheyenne to the federal offices there.

Fortunately, Sawyer had a copy of his birth certificate, and they were able to get him a picture.

Now they were back in Cheyenne at the airport for their flight to Philadelphia.

From there, they would catch their flight to London.

“What are we going to do when we get there?” Sawyer asked as he sat in his seat on the plane, bouncing his leg nervously.

“Have you flown before?” Randall asked, realizing he probably should have asked Sawyer before now.

When Sawyer shook his head, Randall took his hand and held it through the announcements and taxiing.

Sawyer seemed to hold his breath as soon as they hit the runway, and didn’t inhale until they were in the air.

“It’s okay. Just breathe and relax. We’re on our way. ”

“Jesus,” Sawyer said, looking out the window as the ground got farther away and the world seemed to get smaller. “My head feels funny.”

“It’s the cabin pressure.” Randall gave Sawyer some gum, and once they leveled off, he reclined his seat back. “Just relax and take it easy. We have about three hours before we land, and there’s plenty of time for us to catch our overnight flight.”

“Are you a real cowboy?” the boy from the row in front of them asked as he peered between the seats. “My daddy says you might be.”

“He is,” Randall answered.

“Really? Do you rope steers and ride bulls?” The kid’s eyes grew huge.

“I used to, but I don’t anymore. Now I take care of the horses and look after the herd. Do you want to be a cowboy when you grow up?” Sawyer asked.

The kid shook his head, looking down. “Daddy said I can’t be one ’cause I got ’plepsy.” He probably meant epilepsy. The kid was so cute. He had to be about five and was as curious as anything. “He says I can be a lawyer or a doctor if I want.”

Sawyer leaned forward as if sharing a secret. “Kid, you can be whatever you want to be if you want it bad enough and are willing to work on it. I always wanted to be a football player when I grew up. Instead I’m a cowboy.”

The kid looked to the side, probably at his dad, and then back through the seat. “A cowboy is better. You get to ride horses.”

“Ethan, you need to turn around,” his father said and got him settled back in his seat.

Randall lost track of what happened between them after that.

But every now and then Ethan and Sawyer would exchange looks between the seats, which was precious, and Randall noticed that Sawyer wasn’t nearly as nervous, though he did tense up during the landing and was anxious to get out of the plane once they came to a stop.

As soon as they stepped off the Jetway, Sawyer came to a complete stop. If this had been a comedy, everyone behind them would have smacked into the person in front of them. “What’s wrong?”

“Where did all these people come from?” Sawyer asked, taking a few steps forward, staying off to the edge of the airport pandemonium.

People hurried from place to place, and announcements followed one after another.

Randall tried to see how this looked to a cowboy from Wyoming who was used to open spaces and plenty of fresh air, not this airport chaos.

“It’s okay. Think of this as a busy highway.

Some of these people are going to their flights, while others are getting off like us.

It will be fine. The first thing we need to do is get to the international terminal.

There we can check in for our flight to London and get something to eat. All we have to do is go this way.”

Sawyer grabbed his carry-on bag, plopped his hat onto his head, and followed Randall through the airport.

Occasionally Randall turned to check that he was still there and found folks staring at him.

Maybe it was the cowboy swagger, or the way he tipped his hat to the ladies, but Randall pretty much figured it was because Sawyer was the hottest man to walk these halls this year. At least that was his opinion.

“HOW MUCH longer do we have to wait?” Sawyer asked.

“You have enough time to get a Coke or something,” Randall said with a smile. “We’ll be among the first to board. But that isn’t going to be for half an hour.” He settled with his book and their bags while Sawyer went to find something to drink.

“They have all kinds of stuff here.”

“It’s supposed to be duty-free, but it’s usually overpriced.”

“I thought so. But I promised Mrs. J that I’d bring her back some really good Scotch whisky. She loves the stuff. And I need to get something for Chip. But I can look while I’m at your home. It will be better.” He sat down, stretching out his long legs. “I’ve never been anywhere before.”

“I can tell,” Randall said gently. “It’s like watching everything through fresh eyes, and there are going to be plenty of other things to see. I can’t wait to show you my home and for you to meet the people who live there. We can see London and all the famous sights if you want to.”

Sawyer shrugged. “I’ll let you show me what you think is interesting. I’m not much for museums and stuff like that. Though I hear the queen used to love her horses. Can we see them?”

“I don’t think so. But I’ll see what I can come up with to make your visit interesting.” When their flight was called, Randall guided Sawyer through the gate check and onto the plane, where they were shown to their business-class seats.

TRAVEL SUCKED, and by the time they reached London and got on the train out of the city, Randall was exhausted.

Dang it all, once they got in the air and there hadn’t been anything to see, Sawyer had put his feet up, reclined his seat, and slept the entire trip over the Atlantic.

Randall spent most of the time reading and being a little jealous of Sawyer’s ability to rest on a plane.

It was something he had never mastered. And now, while he was exhausted and trying to doze, his usually quiet and reserved cowboy was like the Energizer Bunny.

“What is that?”

“Just a small town,” Randall answered.

Sawyer plopped his hat on his head and nearly knocked it off again as he tried to get closer to the window.

“You weren’t kidding. It really is green here.

” The usual British weather had made an appearance, with clouds growing lower and rain pelting the carriage as they continued the trip. “Does it rain all the time?”

“Not all the time, but it rains a lot. We have plenty of gloomy days like this, so we have plenty of wet-weather gear and don’t let a little liquid sunshine stop us.”

Sawyer finally stretched out and seemed to relax.

“I know I’m being dumb, but I’ve never been anywhere like this before.

Growing up, we never got to go anyplace.

” He shrugged before turning back to the window.

Randall chuckled softly and took Sawyer’s hand for a minute, receiving an almost brilliant, excited smile in return.

Damn, if a ride in a train got him that kind of reaction, he intended to make sure they took plenty of trips.

“You enjoy yourself. We’ll be at our station in a while.

” He settled back, just happy that Sawyer was enjoying himself and not bored out of his mind.

Randall had made this trip a ton of times.

Sometimes he drove, but the train was so much easier, especially going into London, where parking was so much trouble.

At the station, Sawyer climbed out of the carriage and got their luggage, hefting the two suitcases while Randall carried the smaller bags.

His cowboy stood taller than most people and was easily the talk of everyone he passed.

A few times he paused to tip his hat. Eventually they went into the station and out to the street side, where Randall had arranged for a car.

Sawyer insisted on loading the luggage in the boot for the driver and then held the door for Randall. “I take it your mama’s manners come out when you’re nervous,” Randall teased, and Sawyer shrugged.

“How long does it take to get to your house?”

“About ten minutes.” Randall settled back, every house and road familiar to him.

He had explored them all as a boy, and they hadn’t changed much.

It was like going to back in time, and he loved it.

He had never realized how much until now.

He had let his father and his miserable childhood color everything about this place and his life.

Taking Sawyer’s hand, he realized just how much he owed the man next to him.

“Holy shit,” Sawyer swore as the driver pulled into the drive up to the house. “This place is huge.” He tilted his head so he could see out the window.

“Yes, I suppose it is.” The manicured gardens spread out on both sides of the drive, and in the distance, great lawns met the old estate trees. The gardens, lawns, and forests were all managed and maintained without much help from Randall.

“It looks like something out of a movie,” Sawyer said as the car stopped. He bounded out and looked around. Randall stood next to him, trying to see the old Regency-era pile the way Sawyer did. “And the flowers….” Sawyer’s voice broke. “My mama would have loved to see this.”

“Maybe we should go in and get out of the rain,” Randall offered, and Sawyer hefted the bags out of the back before thanking him for the ride and shaking his hand.

“Lead the way,” Sawyer said.

Randall climbed the steps and pulled open the tall front door before entering his family home’s grand foyer, with its marble floors and rich woodwork. Walls hung with the souvenirs of his ancestors’ European grand tours.

“Celeste, this is Sawyer Kincaid. He’s going to be staying with me for a while.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Sawyer set down the bags, pulled off his hat, and made a slight bow of his head.