“I hope so too. We know the horses were injected on purpose, but why would anyone do that to those beautiful animals? The only thing I can think is that someone was trying to scare the Wilson’s and stop them from selling their property to developers.”
Cheyenne nodded in agreement and then smiled down at her.
“Speaking of horses, I understand you’re interested in buying a Paso. Why don’t you come to the ranch sometime so you can ride one. We’ve got a handsome chestnut gelding for sale that’s as smooth as silk. He’d be perfect for you.”
“Well, I was thinking about buying a Paso until I saw the new colt out of Maggie Mae. He’s the spitting image of Sinbad, and Ralph is going to sell him to me when he’s weaned.”
Cheyenne reached out and brushed his thumb gently across Sam’s cheek. “I remember when Sinbad died. You were so heartbroken you missed a whole week of school. I wanted to tell you how sorry I was, but I was afraid you’d knock me flat on my butt if I even came close to you, so I never did. I wished I’d been braver.”
Samantha narrowed her eyes and looked up at Cheyenne. She thought at first he was mocking her and she was ready with a nasty comeback. Then she saw the kindness in his striking black eyes and realized he wasn’t trying to get a rise out of her. He was serious. Funny, she thought to herself. She’d never noticed how handsome he was with his bronze face and hair pulled back in a tail. His Native American features were prominent and powerful. She bit her lip and sucked in a deep breath before answering.
“Thanks. It would be really nice to ride a Paso and see what they’re like, but I’d have to come when Marietta is away from the ranch. In case you haven’t heard, I’m number one on her hit list.”
Cheyenne chuckled. “You’re not the only one, trust me. She has a list a mile long. She’s going with Lance to Puerto Rico to look at some mares in two weeks so that might be a good time to come over. Maybe you’ll have some free time then.”
“I’ll check my schedule and let you know.”
“Hey, Sam! Come look at these bracelets,” Isabella called to her from across the room.
“Sounds like she found something worth bidding on. I’ll see you later.”
As Sam walked across the room to join Isabella she knew Cheyenne was watching her every move. She crossed her fingers and hoped she wouldn’t trip or do something stupid to blow her exit.
Sam was concentrating so hard on walking sexy she didn’t see Marietta Wilson making a beeline for the same jewelry table. They smacked into each other and champagne flew up in the air and came down everywhere, but mostly on Marietta. Every conversation in the room stopped and there was a deadly silence.
Well, so much for my sexy ass walk, thought Samantha. Her whole enticing exit in front of Cheyenne was ruined. He was probably halfway to the front door running for his life by now, and if he wasn’t he should be, thought Sam with a grimace.
Chapter Eleven
“You stupid idiot!” exploded Marietta. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going! Look what you’ve done to my dress!”
Sam looked at Marietta’s expensive silk suit. It actually looked better with the champagne drops sprinkled all over it. Kind of gave it a retro, 60’s look. Like tie-dyeing with Cristal, or maybe Tott’s in this case.
Lance rushed over and tried to calm his wife down, which Sam knew from previous experience would never happen in this century.
“Now Marietta. I saw the whole thing and it was an accident. Let me get you another glass of champagne.”
“Oh, you’re an idiot too!” she muttered and stomped off to the ladies restroom with Lance following close behind.
“Esta quvruna,” Isabella said with venom coming over Sam.
“I thought I knew all the bad Spanish words, but I don’t know that one and I hope it’s a really bad one,” Sam told Isabella. “Because if it’s not I may have to come up with something super ugly in English.”
“Oh, it’s bad girlfriend. Trust me.”
One of the volunteer waiters came over and offered Sam another flute of champagne.
“Well done, doc. You sure put a smile on everyone’s face. If we’d known you were going to drench the queen of mean in champagne we’d have sold tickets and made a million dollars for the center!”
Sam looked up and was surprised to see the Wilson hand, Mitch, handing her the champagne.
“Well thanks, I think. Mitch, right? I didn’t know you volunteered at the Center.”
“I’ve been doing it for about a year now. I volunteered to help serve at this dinner and didn’t know it was going to be so much fun. Let me know if you need any more champagne.” He smiled at Sam and then turned around and moved through the crowd.
“Wow, he’s got a great ass, doesn’t he?” Isabella whispered in Sam’s ear as she watched Mitch hand out drinks.
Sam paused and took a good look before she grabbed Isabella’s arm and headed back to the jewelry table.
“Yes, he does. Shit! We’ve got to get some men in our lives so we’ll quit drooling every time some good looking hunk comes around.”
“Well, I heard a rumor that cowboys go commando. Do you think that’s true?” Isabella asked Sam.
They both stopped and turned to give Mitch another long look. His back was to them and he bent over at that precise moment to pick something off the floor. Timing is everything. They both sucked in their breath and stood there mesmerized.
“I don’t know.” Sam took a big gulp of champagne.
“I heard they don’t like tidy-whities or anything else binding them when they’re ridin’ and ropin’ those doggies.” Isabella said in a half-trance. “Ay-yi-yi! I’m getting all hot and sweaty.”
Sam shook herself and poked Isabella. “We’ve got to stop this. We’re driving ourselves insane. Let’s get back to reality and go look at that jewelry.”
They turned and slowly walked to the table.
Isabella pointed to a bracelet. “Look at this. Isn’t it beautiful? Did you see it’s a John Grayhawk original? He makes such gorgeous Indian jewelry.”
Sam looked at the unique silver and turquoise bracelet with a delicate silver bear hanging from the clasp.
“It’s stunning. What’s the starting bid?”
“Only $100 and I’m putting my name down.”
“Good luck.” Then Sam noticed a watch with a band of silver horse’s right next to the bracelet.
“Now this is more my style. What’s the bid on this?”
“That starts at $75. You should bid on it. It fits you.”
It was different and charming so Sam put her name down on the opening bid.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, dinner will be served in 10 minutes so please find your way to your table. The silent auction will be open for another hour so you can watch your items. We will let you know five minutes before it closes so you can make any bid changes,” announced one of the volunteers.
Sam headed toward the dining room with Isabella and looked for her parents. Her mom was easy to find in her elegant blue cocktail dress chatting with some other board members with her dad at her elbow. Her mom stopped talking when she spotted them and waved them over.
“Right here, sweeties. I have you sitting at our table.”
They sat down by their name cards and a hostess quickly came up and filled their wine glasses with a Colorado Cabernet.
AS PEOPLE FILTERED in and found their places, Isabella and Sam sipped their wine.
“Well, well. Looks like I get to sit by the Champagne Princess,” remarked Cheyenne as he pulled his chair out and plunked down next to Sam.
Sam wanted to crawl under the table and hide, but instead managed to calmly drink her wine and smile. All of her hard yoga work was finally paying off. Or maybe it was the wine.
“Hi, Isabella. It’s been a long time.” Cheyenne grinned at her friend across the table.
“Hey, Cheyenne. It has been a long time. I hear you’re still at the Lazy W.”
“Yep, been there over
seven years now.”
Dr. Maxwell Chandler came up and sat down next to Isabella.
“Hello, Samantha. I don’t know if you remember me, Max Chandler, the doctor who treated your dad when he dislocated his shoulder.”
Sam was surprised to see the doctor, but then she saw her mother staring at them with a big smile on her face. Her mother had done it again. Now she knew why Cheyenne and Max were there.
“Hi, Max,” Sam said turning her attention on him. “It’s nice to see you again. This is my best friend, Isabella Ramirez.”
Isabella turned and smiled at Max.
Have you ever seen a child’s face when he saw a gigantic sucker in a candy store, or Santa Claus at the mall? That’s exactly how Max Chandler looked when he saw Isabella. He was smitten. Sam was afraid he would stop breathing and might pass out from lack of oxygen, but she didn’t worry. Isabella knew CPR.
Max took a deep breath and smiled back at Isabella. That broke the ice and they started some small chit-chat. Sam was glad they were hitting it off, but that meant she was stuck with Cheyenne. She raised her wineglass to her lips and gave him a subtle look. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
Sam’s mom and dad came to the table and sat down. Then Sam’s mood turned cold like a wind from the north as Marietta and Lance appeared at the door and headed for the table right next to them. It was way too close for comfort.
Marietta and Lance were major supporters of the riding center and made sure everyone was aware of their grand entrance. Sam only hoped that Marietta wouldn’t notice she was sitting at the table next to her.
Lady Luck wasn’t with Sam that night. It only took a moment before she could feel an arctic blast and turned to see Marietta glaring at her. Sam smiled sweetly and waved a finger at Marietta just as her mom turned to say something to her. She quickly dropped her hand. She didn’t want her mom to see which finger she was using to wave with, but she suddenly felt tons better.
Chapter Twelve
The volunteers started serving dinner and with all the happy supporters at Sam’s table, the conversation was cheery and upbeat. By the time they finished dessert, and after a glass of the superb Colorado Cabernet, Sam forgot Marietta was at the next table. It was a little harder to forget that Cheyenne was sitting next to her. She could tell she was going to need a lot more wine or yoga breaths to get through this evening.
“Five minutes before the silent auction ends,” announced a volunteer.
“Excuse me,” Sam said. “Isabella and I have some auction items we need to check on.”
After drinking a flute of champagne and a glass of wine, Sam was feeling a buzz and so was Isabella. They both headed for the auction room to look at their bid items.
“Aye, que vida!” Exclaimed Isabella. “Marietta Wilson put down a bid of $400 on that bracelet. No way can I top that!”
Sam looked at the bracelet-watch. “Well, I guess we’re both out of luck because Marietta put a bid of $500 on my watch and no way I can top that either. She probably doesn’t even want the jewelry. She just wants to make sure we don’t get it. Oh, well. It’s more money for the center so let’s go and have another glass of wine.”
“Works for me!”
They headed back to their table and Sam sat down as a volunteer refilled her wineglass.
“Did you win your auction items?” Cheyenne asked.
“No, the Wicked Witch of the West outbid us both. I think she did it out of spite, but it doesn’t matter. The real winner is the center.”
A jazz band started playing and Cheyenne turned to her.
“Feel like having a dance with an old friend?” he asked.
Sam hesitated a second. Dancing meant being really close to Cheyenne. Could she handle that? She took a big gulp of wine to settle the butterflies in her stomach before answering. “So, after all these years are we calling a truce?”
Cheyenne held his hand up. “Truce. You have my solemn vow.”
“Then I would love to,” she answered and smiled back.
Sam turned and saw Isabella and Max heading for the dance floor. Cheyenne got up and pulled her to her feet. When he grabbed her hand she felt an electric shock go through her body. She was pretty sure he felt it too.
A young woman came up to the mike and started singing a soft, bluesy song. The lights dimmed as the singer filled the room with sexy vibes and mellow tones with her low husky voice. Cheyenne pressed his hand against Sam’s back and pushed her close to him as they moved with the slow beat of the music.
“You look absolutely beautiful tonight. Nothing like the soaking wet Dr. Kendrick I saw covered with cow dung the other day.”
Sam looked up and gazed into his eyes. Cheyenne brushed his hand across her face and tucked some wisps of hair back as he looked down at her mouth.
“That was not one of my better days,” Sam answered. He was making her nervous. This was not the same skinny little kid she had bumped heads with in school. He was all grown up, mature and totally delicious. She could handle grown up and mature. It was the totally delicious part she was having a problem with.
Cheyenne looked at her a moment longer and then pulled her closer. Sam could feel his warm breath on her cheek as they danced. She could also feel his body moving next to hers. Her brain went numb. She was trying to block the commando thing out of her mind, but it wasn’t working.
Oh shit, I’m in trouble, Sam thought as she felt the familiar tingle of a nervous rash work its way up her body.
The music continued from one slow song to another and then into a string of sensuous saxophone solos. Cheyenne didn’t seem in a hurry to end their dance, which was fine with Sam. She no longer had the ability to think or feel. Well, except for Cheyenne’s body rubbing against hers. She could still feel that.
“You can relax now.” Cheyenne breathed in her ear. “Lance and Marietta left the dance floor so we won’t be brushing into them. Looks like they’re having an after dinner cocktail at their table.”
Sam felt like she was waking up from a foggy dream. “Who?” She asked blankly.
Cheyenne laughed softly as his cheek nuzzled hers. “Never mind. I don’t want to break this spell.”
But the spell was broken when Mitch came up and tapped Cheyenne on his shoulder. “May I break in?” He asked. “I’d like to have a dance with the vet who saved Brio.”
“Sure,” said Cheyenne. Sam could tell he wasn’t happy with the interruption. Mitch grabbed her hand and smoothly stepped in.
“Thanks doc,” he said. “I know I’m only the lowly volunteer help, but I had to have one dance with you and thank you for saving Brio. He’s one heck of a stallion. It was a shame that Brilliante was too far gone to save.”
Mitch’s comment about Brio brought Sam back to reality and she studied his smiling face. Could he be the one she heard on the cell phone? Somehow she didn’t want to believe that this pleasant young man who was graduating in a month from vet school could intentionally kill off horses with such a painful death. Sam smiled back and could feel her rash subsiding. With Mitch’s friendly chatter in her ear, Sam was slowly composing herself and she could feel her heart rate going back to normal.
THE SONG ENDED and Sam thanked Mitch for the dance. She headed back to her table to grab her purse and wrap. It was getting late and the crowd was thinning. Sam looked for Isabella and her parents as she moved toward the exit. Cheyenne was nowhere in sight but Sam found her mom and dad by the check out table and stopped to say goodbye. Isabella was talking to Max close by.
Marietta and Lance were talking to two men at the door and Sam recognized one as John O’Connor. She could tell the conversation wasn’t going well. Marietta’s face was red and her voice was getting louder.
“Now listen you two,” Marietta said through clinched teeth. “You don’t get it, do you? We have the right to sell our land to anyone we want and you can’t stop us. You have plenty of land for open space, you environmental whackos, so back off and leave us alone!”
“Gentlemen, this conversation is over,” Lance said quietly. He picked up their auction items and obediently followed his wife out the door.
“That woman is the queen of stomp,” Isabella told Sam coming up to her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone stomp as much as she does.”
Sam wanted to forget about the Wicked Witch of the West. With a gleam in her eye she whispered in Isabella’s ear, “I’ll have the valet get your car. Then you can say good night to Max.”
Cowgirl Up! Page 6