by Jane Porter
“Right. So, what would you do if Ashley was your baby girl and she wanted to get back into her favorite sport?”
Sam stared off across the restaurant, his blue eyes narrowed, deep creases at his eyes. “I’d put her on the horse myself,” he said, turning to look at Ivy. “And drive her to every single rodeo she wanted to enter.”
“What about your career?”
He shrugged. “I’d be happy to give it all up, if it’d allow me to support my daughter.”
*
They reached Marietta with a half hour before she needed to start work, and Sam asked if she’d mind if they stopped at the western wear store on Main Street as he wanted her input on his mom’s birthday gift. “I want to get her a vest, something warm and comfortable that she could wear around the house.”
“I don’t know her taste, but I’m happy to help,” she answered.
Inside the store, Sam pulled out a couple different vests and asked Ivy what she thought. Ivy even modeled a few of them for him. “This collar’s too high,” she said about one. “I’d find it annoying if every time I turned my head, it brushed my chin.”
“What about that quilted ivory one? It’s not really thick, but do you think it’d keep her warm?”
Ivy put it on, zipped the black zipper. The vest hit lower than some, reaching mid hip. “I like that it’s got a little style, with the black piping.” She slid her hands into the pockets, which were nice and deep. “The pockets are good, too. You could keep a packet of tissue in them, or a key, or even gloves if need be. I actually like this one at lot.”
“I hear a but, though.”
“I’m not sure it’s your mom. She doesn’t wear a lot of ivory or black. She seems to prefer blues, lavender, and sometimes a soft pink.” Ivy went to the rack and pulled out a vest that was almost an antique rose. “I think this color would look really pretty on her.”
“The zipper’s gold.”
“It’s a feminine vest.” Ivy took off the ivory vest and slid her arms into the pink one. “But look, it’s not bulky, and it has great pockets and the armholes are wide enough that they won’t limit her movement.”
“I’m going to get it.”
“I think she’ll love it.” And then Ivy leaned in to him for a kiss, before realizing just what she was doing. She stopped short of actually touching him, but it was obvious what she’d almost done. “Oops.” She forced a smile. “Looks like I’m getting a little too comfortable with you.”
“I’ve kissed you. Twice. I wouldn’t complain if you kissed me once.”
“But the kisses are confusing. I’m not sure what they mean.”
“I think it means we like each other.”
She turned away, her gaze sweeping the store. “Is there anything else you want to buy while we’re here? I still have a few minutes before I have to be at work.”
“You don’t want to talk about us?”
“We have ten minutes before I start working. I really don’t think now is a good time.”
“Then tomorrow let’s talk. Maybe we can go for a ride, get away from the house, and discuss what happened two years ago, because I have questions—”
“So do I.”
“Great, then we’ll finally be able to clear some things up.”
*
Vest purchased, Sam drove Ivy to the Wolf Den as the first streetlamps came on. It wasn’t yet five but already dark. Dirty mounds of snow marked the bar’s entrance, making the eyesore of a building look even more bedraggled.
“You can just drop me here,” she said.
“I’m coming in,” he answered.
She scanned the parking lot for Wes’s big red shiny truck. “I don’t see his truck.”
“He could have walked. He could have hidden it. He could have a different set of wheels.”
Sam parked in one of the spots and turned off the engine. “I’m not taking any chances, nor should you.”
“I’m not.”
“Good. Then you shouldn’t object to me hanging out tonight,” he said, swinging his door open and stepping out, boot crunching ice.
“I do feel a little guilty taking up your whole night,” she said, opening her own door. “You should go home, spend the evening with your family, and then come back at closing time to get me.”
“What if Wes shows up and makes things ugly?”
“I’ll take a barstool and crack him over the head.”
Sam gave her a long look. “Seriously.”
“Lucy’s working tonight and she always carries Mace. I’ll just Mace him.”
“You’ll Mace Wes?”
The wind grabbed at her ponytail, the long strands flying in every direction. “If I have to.”
“That’s good to know.”
She stepped in front of him, put a hand on Sam’s chest to stop his progress. “Go watch a Christmas movie with your mom, and then come back at eleven, and then hang out with me. But please don’t just abandon her, not when she’s so glad to have you at the ranch this time of year.”
“Mom understands I’m concerned about you. We’re all concerned about you.”
“I appreciate that, I do, but no one in that bar will let anything happen to me. We’re like a family, a really colorful, dysfunctional family, but we look out for each other.”
“How about this? I come in, have one beer, and maybe a bite of something, and then if all is well, I’ll go home, and then come back at ten or eleven, and keep an eye on things until you close.”
“Won’t you be bored?”
“No. Food, drink, and even free entertainment.”
Ivy went hot all over. “You mean the dancers.”
Sam’s expression was innocent as he opened the door for her. “I was referencing the TV over the bar. The one perpetually turned to The Weather Channel.”
“Hmph,” she answered, marching inside.
“Ivy’s here,” Lucy sang out as Ivy crossed the middle of the floor, heading toward the bar. Hank, the weekend day bartender worked part-time and went to college at night, high-fived her on his way out.
“Have I missed anything?” Ivy asked Lucy, putting her things away, and then washing her hands.
“Nope. It’s been pretty quiet. I think everyone’s out shopping, getting ready for Christmas.” Lucy looked over at Sam, where he’d taken a stool at the counter. “You’re Tommy’s brother.”
“I am,” Sam answered. “Didn’t you used to have red hair?”
“I did. What do you think of the pink?” Lucy asked, swiveling her head right to left, showing off the fluorescent hue.
“I like it. Suits you,” he said.
She grinned, and extended a hand. “Lucy Truly. Tommy and I went to school together. We were boyfriend and girlfriend in first grade. Pretty serious relationship.”
Sam laughed and shook her head. “Sam Wyatt, and it’s nice to meet you, Lucy Truly.”
“That is my real name, in case you’re wondering,” she said. “I don’t know what my parents were thinking.” She noted activity across the bar. “Better go, but I’ll be back.”
After Lucy walked away, Sam glanced at Ivy. “She’s the one with the Mace?”
Ivy nodded.
“I have a feeling she wouldn’t be afraid to use it,” he said.
“No. You don’t mess with Lucy. She’s fearless. She might look all soft and fluffy, but she studied criminal justice at University of Montana, and is preparing now for law school.”
Sam turned to look at Lucy waiting on some customers. “I wonder if Tommy remembers her.”
“He couldn’t take his eyes off of her the night of his friend’s birthday, but we both know Tommy is a flirt.”
“How did Lucy respond?” Sam asked.
“She didn’t give him the time of day,” Ivy answered, before heading down to the other end of the counter.
*
Sam passed the hour by picking at the nachos Ivy served him—probably the worst nachos he’d ever had in his life—and washing them
down with the beer. At least the beer was cold. He was just about to leave when the door opened and Wes walked in.
Sam saw the moment Ivy registered Wes’s arrival, even as she glanced from Wes to Sam, and back again.
She didn’t look afraid tonight. If anything she looked determined. Resolute.
She stopped in front of him, and this time she didn’t offer to refill his drink or get him anything else to eat. “You can go now,” she said quietly. “I’ve got this.”
“I’m not comfortable leaving you.”
“Maybe not, but you made me a promise and I want you to keep it.”
“That was before Wes arrived.”
“It doesn’t matter if he’s here or not. We agreed that while I work, you’d spend the evening with your family. That was our arrangement, and I expect you to stick with it.”
“I don’t want you afraid—”
“I’m not afraid, and tonight Wes won’t harass me. I’m done being intimidated, by him, or by anyone.”
Ivy was silent a moment. “Lucy made me realize I’ve allowed Wes to bully me. I didn’t put a stop to it sooner, but I have now, and he needs to hear from me, that we’re done, and he has no more power over me.”
“And if he lays a hand on you?”
“I’ll scream bloody murder, call the sheriff, call you, call Tommy and Billy, call Joe—” She broke off, smiled. “See? I’m going to be okay. You’ve given me the kick in the pants I needed.”
“Can you come around the counter?” Sam asked.
She did, and he put his hands on her hips and pulled her toward him. “There are things I’d rather do than kick you in the pants.”
She laughed, and blushed. “I hope they’re one of the things I enjoyed.”
“Well, they’re certainly one of the things I enjoyed.”
Her blush deepened and she looked away. “You’re making it hard to concentrate on work.”
“Then I’ll leave, but promise me you will call if you need me.”
Her eyes locked with his, and she looked deep into the blue depths for a long moment. “I promise.”
Sam kissed her forehead, and then her lips, a long bone-melting kiss before he rose from his stool and walked out.
Ivy waited for the door to close behind Sam, and then she exhaled, and drew another breath, trying to clear her head, and steady her pulse. Once she was calm, and fully in control of her emotions she walked down the counter to confront Wes.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, giving her the smile that she now knew was as plastic and fake as anything.
She didn’t bother smiling back. “I don’t want you here,” Ivy said bluntly. “I’d like you to leave.”
She’d clearly caught Wes off guard. He looked surprised, even shocked, and then his expression changed, and he summoned back the charming smile, the one that now made her skin crawl. “We can’t be friends?”
“No.”
Her blunt answer seemed to throw him again, but he recovered his smile, although he looked slightly less sure of himself. “Not sure why you just disappeared on me. I was worried sick. Spent months trying to find you, trying to make sure you were okay.”
“As you can see, I’m okay.”
“How long have you been here in Marietta?”
“It doesn’t really matter, Wes. It’s none of your business, not anymore.”
“You and Sam really together? Back with your old boyfriend? Or is it just an act?”
“Not an act. I love him. I’ve always loved him.” She forced herself to meet Wes’s gaze. “Even when I was with you, I loved him.”
Wes’s smile faded. His brown gaze hardened. “You’re telling me I was playing second fiddle?”
“I’m telling you what I should have told you in the beginning. That my heart was taken. There’s only ever been one man for me, and that’s Sam Wyatt.”
“So where was he, when you needed him? Where was he when your mom died? Ivy, I was there. I picked up those pieces. Hell, you were in pieces. You were a mess—”
“Yeah, I was. And you were more than happy to take control of all those pieces, to take control of me.”
“And look what I did for you. Look what I did for your career. Sam never helped you. He didn’t ever put you, or your career, first. But I did. The year we were together you earned twice as much as what you’d ever earned. I doubled your income. I took you from being a good barrel racer and I made you a star—”
“Wes, hold up. Come on. You’ve been drinking the Kool-Aid if that’s what you think. Yes, you doubled my income, but I’m not a star—”
“I made everyone want you. I got your face everywhere.”
“I never wanted that. I never asked for any of that. You never once consulted with me, you just took over and told me where to go, and what to do, and if I protested, you got ugly.”
“I lost my temper a couple of times, and I’m sorry about that, I should have been more patient, but Ivy, you didn’t seem to appreciate everything I was doing for you, and all the money we were making.”
“Let’s talk about money, Wes.” Ivy knew Lucy was waiting for her but Lucy was just going to have to wait a few minutes longer. “Where is the money? Where is my money? If I have so much, why am I deeply in debt?”
“You’re not in debt.”
“My credit cards are full. You never paid them down.”
“A mistake,” he said. “Because you have money in your checking account, and the rest, of course, has been invested.”
“I’m closing all of those accounts,” Ivy said. “And I want you to hand over information on all of my investments, too. We’re through. You’re not my manager, you’re not my friend, you’re not my boyfriend. You’re nothing to me. I want you out of my life and I’m letting everyone who ever worked with me know that you’re not part of my career, and that any agreement made with you does not hold up. I will take you to court if I have to. I’m taking my name back, my career back, and all the control.”
“So much self-confidence. I’m impressed. Let me applaud Wyatt for doing wonders for your self-esteem.”
“This isn’t about Sam. It’s about me. I don’t need a man to fix me. I was hurt, but never broken, and it just took me a little time to figure out it’s okay to fall and to fail. What’s not okay is giving up.” She glanced past him to the door where the big burly bearded bouncer was standing. Ivy’s gaze met the bouncer’s just long enough so that he would know she was checking in with him, alerting him to potential trouble.
And then she looked back at Wes, who looked by turns, angry and miserable. “Sam’s coming back in a bit, and I wouldn’t be here when he gets back. I wouldn’t ever come around again. I don’t want you around. Sam most definitely doesn’t want you around. So why don’t you head on out, get in your truck, and leave Marietta once and for all.”
Wes stared at her, mouth tight, jaw set. “Just tell me this. Is it true you’re engaged? Because I don’t see a ring on your finger.”
She arched a brow to hide her surprise. “I don’t think it’s any of your business.”
“I’d just think if Wyatt was that serious, he’d put a ring on your finger. Unless, you take it off when he’s not around?”
“Again, what Sam and I do is none of your business.”
Wes rose, shoving his stool back with a loud scrape. “Then tell him to stop texting me about your wedding. Even if you did invite me, I wouldn’t come.”
Ivy watched Wes walk out, and then headed down the bar to get the drinks together for Lucy. “Sorry about that,” she apologized to Lucy. “That needed to be done.”
“Not a problem,” Lucy answered. “I grabbed a couple of long necks. I’ll take these over and then come back for the rest.”
*
Sam watched exactly one Christmas movie with his mom and family before bolting out the door and returning to town.
He arrived back at the Wolf Den well before ten. He sat for a moment, telling himself to chill out, before he walked in. He spot
ted some of the real estate magazines on the floor of the passenger seat and scooped them up to look through once he went inside.
Entering the bar, he nodded at the bouncer, and then went to his favorite barstool which was happily empty. Ivy gave him a look from the other end of the bar but he wasn’t sure how to decipher it. He wouldn’t call Ivy a hothead, but she definitely wore her heart on her sleeve, far more than other women he’d dated. But that was also one of the things he’d always liked about her. Her warmth. Her energy. Her passion.
He pulled the real estate magazines from his coat pocket and flipped through the ones he hadn’t yet looked at. Lots of big houses, and some smaller ones, but nothing really suitable for what Ivy wanted. And then just as he started to close the magazine he saw an ad that read, Paradise Valley Montana Horse Facility, Home, Arena & More.
He skimmed the description. Located in the heart of Paradise Valley, 26 miles to Yellowstone Park, 1/4 mile to Yellowstone River, this is a must-see property for the horse-lover.
Twenty-one acres.
A completely remodeled house with three bedrooms and two baths with outdoor living and three-hundred-sixty-degree views of mountains and valley.
Sam glanced up at Ivy, who was still not making any effort to come speak to him. “Can I get a drink?” he asked.
She leaned against the counter and gave him a frosty look “No.”
“Why not?” he asked.
“I don’t like this game you’re playing with Wes. I don’t want to be part of it.”
Okay, interesting. “Which part?”
Her arms folded over her chest. “The part where you say outrageous things just to piss him off.”
“What’s outrageous?”
“Oh, maybe the part about us being engaged, the part about sending him an invite to the wedding.”
He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. “You didn’t like that?”
“No. It was humiliating.”
“How was it humiliating?”
“None of it’s true.” She held up one hand, wiggled her fingers. “He asked about my ring. Wanted to know where it was. That was awkward. Maybe you should have warned me.”
“Did it work? Is he gone?”
“I didn’t need to tell him a lie to make him leave. I could just tell him the truth. And I did—”