After leaving El Paso, the desert and Gobi surrounding the highway began to transition into plains. By the afternoon, passing through Sonora, a small town less than 200 miles from San Antonio, the surrounding area was already an endless green plain and vast forests.
Cowboys, wearing tall, wide-brimd hats and so even with capes to protect them from the wind, sand, and sun, rode their horses, driving herds of cattle across the pastures, occasionally letting out a loud whistle. Many sheepdogs, with their short legs, leaped and bounded around the cattle, diligently helping their masters.
Jack quickly felt the warmth of the local Texas. When he stopped at a gas station in Sonora to refuel, a waitress swayed her hips and stood beside his car. She wore denim shorts and a knotted blouse that barely covered anything.
"Hey handso, your car looks like it's going to be a gas guzzler. Mind taking for a ride?"
Jack gave a knowing look and mimicked the local cowboys by adjusting his cowboy hat. "Not today," he said apologetically. "My girl's waiting for up ahead."
Hannah's plane landed at 5 PM, and he only had less than three hours left; he couldn't afford to waste ti.
Unexpectedly, shortly after Jack got back on the road, several heavy motorcycles caught up with his Firebird. The waitress from before was sitting on the back of one of them, with her arm around a heavily tattooed rider, arrogantly giving him the middle finger.
Then, these guys started swerving provocatively in front of the Firebird, accompanied by strange noises and whistles.
Looking at these reckless riders, Jack sighed helplessly; he really was in a hurry.
Leaning out of the car window, Jack tapped on the door to warn the group: "Hey guys, watch out, it's getting windy."
He then surveyed the road; there were very few cars, so he could give them a little scare.
Rolling up all the windows, Jack lightly tapped the brakes amidst the jeers of the riders, slowing down to avoid them, changing lanes, then flooring the accelerator, shifting gears, and accelerating again. In less than three seconds, he reached 130 mph.
This was probably the first ti the Firebird had ever traveled at that speed. Before the guys could react, they only saw a dark shadow flash past and disappear instantly.
Having played these typical riders a bit, Jack slowed down to 80 mph. He didn't want to run into the highway patrol here; Texas was one of the states with the strongest separatist tendencies in the US, and there were countless places along the road where only the Lone Star flag was displayed, not the Arican flag.
Even if he got FBI credentials later, it might not be effective here, and he might even be targeted.
Plans never go as expected. He was stuck in traffic for half an hour near the city center during rush hour. By the ti Jack arrived at the airport, 10 kiloters north of San Antonio, Hannah was already waiting.
The little girl, dressed as a cowgirl as soon as she got back to Texas, cheered and jumped on him. Jack spun her around halfway before putting her down.
"OK, there are plenty of horses for you to ride back here, my cowgirl. What are your plans now?"
"To Austin for dinner, then back to my family farm. Uncle Thiago and Auntie are ready to welco us."
After a series of unfortunate events, Zoe's parents helped Hannah sell the 50-year operating rights to their ranch, retaining only a small 500-acre (about 2 square kiloters) farm. They used the more than 10 million dollars they received to set up a trust fund.
The Uncle Thiago and Aunt Thiago that Hannah ntioned were an elderly xican-Arican couple who had been looking after the small farm for her after she left Texas for LA.
So, essentially, Hannah was a small-ti wealthy woman and landowner; the nearly 3,000-acre ranch still nominally belonged to her.
Less than an hour later, Jack's Firebird stopped in front of a restaurant called "Double Winds" in Austin.
"Are you sure this is a restaurant and not a strip club?"
Just like its na, the waitresses at the entrance were all dressed in bikinis, or the sa outfit Jack had t at the gas station, and all had stunning figures. They stared at the restaurant as the won flaunted their presence at the entrance.
Perhaps it was so Friday event; banners hung under the bright neon lights, displaying sexy photos of several beautiful waitresses — it seed to be a beauty pageant.
The parking lot in front of the restaurant was already packed, almost half of it occupied by dozens of heavy motorcycles.
Jack had no choice but to park the Firebird in the parking lot of a nearby shopping mall.
"This is basically like our Texas Owl Cafe, but crazier and more fun!" Hannah excitedly pulled Jack forward to buy tickets and go inside.
"Okay, I know Owl Restaurant, but why do we have to buy tickets to eat here?"
Hannah pointed to the large banners with pictures of pretty girls. "Because they hold the 'Miss Double Wind' pageant every year, and they're currently holding the preliminary rounds. The winners selected by the regional branches will go to Arlington for the grand final."
"When this place first opened when I was a kid, my dad secretly brought here. Then one day, I told my mom I wanted to be a 'Miss Double Wind,' which led to my dad being chased by my mom with a shotgun all the way to the Walker family's ranch."
Jack silently gave a thumbs-up to his father-in-law in heaven.
'Double Wind Restaurant' is more like a sports bar than a restaurant. The food selection is limited: a few fruit pies, various steaks, fries, burgers, and a dazzling array of brands of ice-cold beer.
The restaurant was spacious, with several bars and large-screen LCD TVs on the walls, playing various sports programs.
It was just past 7 pm, the sun hadn't completely set, but the restaurant was already bustling with activity. Besides a large group of riders in ripped jeans and heavily tattooed arms, there were also many ordinary-looking locals.
There were even quite a few parents with children, showing that the people of Texas were indeed unusually 'simple and honest'.
Jack ordered a tomahawk steak, fries, and two bottles of budweiser. Looking around, he was surprised to find that the seemingly fierce riders were surprisingly well-behaved.
Aside from being a little loud and noisy, not a single person was smoking. Many had large cigars in their mouths, but not a single spark was visible, and there was none of the harassnt or groping of the waitresses that he had imagined.
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