by R. C. Ryan
“Then I’m happy to oblige.” Penny set a basket of freshly baked cinnamon biscuits in the middle of the table and blushed when Sam winked.
Breakfast had become a festive affair, now that the worries over Mary Pat’s safety had been put to rest.
Mac’s relief was palpable. He seemed more relaxed than ever as Mary Pat began regaling them with funny stories about her latest venture into the wilderness.
“On the day of the storm I phoned ahead to the Matthews ranch, knowing Bert and Ivy Matthews would probably lose power before the storm ended. I told them I was headed their way, and if I didn’t make it by suppertime, they should send one of their boys out on a snowmobile to find me.”
“Good thinking,” Roscoe muttered. “Send out the troops.”
Mac grinned. “She’s a smart woman. Always has a plan B.”
Penny glanced from the stove to see the look on Mac’s face. Now that Mary Pat was back safely, he had already forgotten his earlier fears for her. He looked…She studied him a moment. He looked proud and content.
Or like a man who’d just found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
The thought left her slightly stunned, before she started grinning.
“How are Bert and Ivy holding up?” Mac asked casually.
“As well as two old folks who are about to celebrate sixty-five years of marriage. They’re amazing. And still so much in love. Two of their eight sons were staying there during the storm, just to make sure their parents were safe.”
“That’s so sweet.” Penny set down a platter of thick ham slices.
“They all dote on their parents.” Mary Pat helped herself to ham before holding out the platter to Mac while he stabbed at a slice. “I stayed there until noon the next day, before driving to the Merriweather ranch. Tim and Cora were so grouchy, I only stayed the night and beat a hasty retreat in the morning.”
Sam chuckled. “I guess those two just turned the old saying on its head.”
When the others looked at him he added, “They’re not getting better. Just older.”
That had everyone laughing.
Mary Pat nodded. “You got that right, Sam. Poor things. They’ve spent a lifetime bickering. And maybe,” she added, “that’s their only way of communicating.”
“Or avoiding communicating,” Sam put in.
Mary Pat laughed. “After the Merriweather place I made it as far as the Boone ranch in the foothills. They had their daughter-in-law Grace with them, and her new baby, Madeline. Grace’s husband is in Granger for a month, helping out his uncle Ned, who suffered a heart attack. So Tommy suggested I leave my van at their place and visit the higher elevations on one of his extra snowmobiles.”
“I’m glad Tommy Boone had the brain,” Mac muttered.
“I heard that.” Mary Pat playfully smacked his arm, while the others around the table laughed. “Actually, I had intended to ask Tommy for the use of one of his snowmobiles, if he hadn’t offered it first.”
“Like I said, a smart woman.” Looking mellow, Mac sat back with a contented smile.
Mary Pat’s voice softened. “I’m glad I made it through the hills and up to old Hinkle Carstairs’s ranch. Hinkle suffered a stroke a few months ago, and his daughter moved in to take care of him. She’s doing a good job, but it’s taking a toll on her. But it’s also brought the two of them closer than ever. For fun and therapy, knowing how competitive he is, she has him playing checkers every night after supper, since it improves both his eye-hand coordination and his mental faculties. Hinkle is always so proud when he can beat her.”
She sighed. “Do you have any idea how many good people I’m privileged to meet?”
Mac turned to her. “Do those good people have any idea how lucky they are to have you crossing the county on their behalf? In a Montana snowstorm?”
Mary Pat brushed aside the compliment and turned to Finn. “Enough about my adventures. I want to hear about the trial that I’m told has been keeping you and Zachariah in town for the past week.”
Mac stepped out the back door and lifted a hand to shade the sun from his eyes. “I’m thinking this might be a good time to head up to the high country and winterize the range shack while this weather holds.”
Sam paused beside him. “I’ll go. The last thing you need is another day away from the ranch. Besides, I heard Mary Pat asking Penny to let her take over kitchen duties tonight. I think she missed cooking and is planning a special supper to celebrate her return. I’m not going to let you miss that.”
“So, if you’re running late, you’ll miss it instead?”
“Better me than you, Dad.”
While they were talking, Otis drove up in one of the ranch trucks and parked it beside the porch.
When he stepped out, he spotted Mac and Sam. “I promised to drive Miss Penny up to the range shack. We need to bring down all the supplies we left behind, and clean up any mess before winter sets in.”
Sam shook his head. “No sense both of us driving up there. Since I’m heading up anyway, I’ll take Penny with me. She can do whatever she needs to do while I winterize the cabin and stock it with logs.”
Mac nodded his approval. “Good thinking, Sam. Now Otis and I can give Roscoe a hand patching the barn roof.”
Otis handed over the keys. “Suits me. I’ve had enough of snow-covered mountain trails to last me until next year.”
As he and Mac started toward the barn, Penny bounded down the porch steps.
Seeing Sam, she paused. “I thought Otis was driving me to the cabin.”
“Change of plans. He’s giving Dad a hand with the barn roof. So I’m driving you.” He took the bucket filled with rags and cleaning supplies from her hands. “I’ll stow these for you.”
“Thanks. I’ve got bread and cheese and milk. Otis was hoping for grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch.”
“Suits me fine.” As Sam opened the passenger door, she stepped past him and tossed her parka and food in the backseat before climbing in.
Sam rounded the hood and placed the bucket in the back before settling into the driver’s side.
As the ranch truck moved slowly along a muddy path behind the barn, Otis stared after them and paused to rub his shoulder.
He turned to Mac. “More snow coming.”
Mac arched a brow and glanced skyward, seeing the blazing sunlight, melting the snow on the barn roof and turning the pastures to mud. “I figured we were in for a thaw. I didn’t hear about any more snow on this morning’s weather report.”
“Maybe not.” The old man chuckled. “But I don’t need a weatherperson to tell me what these old bones already know. Snow’s coming.”
“Oh, look at those glorious trees.” Penny couldn’t seem to get enough of the brilliant autumn colors, turning her head from one side to the other as the truck climbed through a heavily forested area. “With all the snow that fell earlier, I never got a chance to really see them. But now that it’s melting, they’re picture-perfect.”
“So are you.” He shot her an admiring glance that had her cheeks flaming.
Her smile faded. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
When he looked over, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Compliments are so easy for you, aren’t they?”
“They are when I mean them.”
“Sam, I’m trying to stay grounded. How can you say I’m picture-perfect when I’m wearing my oldest pair of jeans and a faded work shirt? I’m dressed for drudge work up in the hills, not for some fancy fashion shoot.”
“And you think that somehow makes you less beautiful in my eyes?”
“Beautiful? Are you blind?”
“I’ve never seen things more clearly. Money, if you could see yourself the way I see you, you’d understand why I can’t stop staring at you.”
“There you go. You’re doing it again.”
“You bet I am. And I’m going to keep on telling you how beautiful you are until you believe me.”
His
words, spoken so seriously, had her falling silent.
“I see I finally got your attention.” He chuckled and floored the accelerator, causing Penny to grab the door handle and hold on for dear life, while muttering under her breath about the perils of riding with a smug, reckless cowboy. A cowboy who made her heart sing.
They drove in an upward, circuitous route past miles of trees in every imaginable shade of red, orange, and yellow.
When they reached the high country, the hills were shrouded in dark, ominous clouds.
Sam brought the truck to a halt beside the range shack. As he stepped out, he sank to his ankles in mud.
After a few muttered curses he rounded the front of the vehicle and opened Penny’s door. Before she could step out, he lifted her in his arms.
She tried to push away. “What’re you doing?”
“Saving you from stepping into what I just stepped into.”
She looked down. “Oh.” Seeing the way his boots sank deep with each step, she couldn’t help chuckling at the frown that marred his usually cheerful face. “Sorry about your bad luck, cowboy.”
“Uh-huh.” When he saw the mischievous gleam in her eyes, his smile returned. “And if you don’t stop wiggling, I may just drop you right here.”
“You’re too much of a gentleman.”
“Now that’s one thing I’ve never been called.”
Penny bit back her smile before wrapping her arms around his neck. “Thanks for saving me from the mud.”
He turned his head slightly, his mouth skimming hers. She jerked back and shot him a dirty look. “And here I thought you were just being a gentleman.”
“I warned you, Money. Nobody’s ever accused me of that.” He carried her to the long front porch that ran the length of the cabin before setting her on her feet. “But you can’t blame a guy for trying to enjoy a little reward for a good deed.”
Without waiting for the sharp retort that was on her tongue, he turned away with a wicked grin and returned a minute later with the cleaning bucket.
She took it from his hands without a word.
After unlocking the door and holding it open for her, he circled the cabin and disappeared inside a small storage shed. Within minutes he returned with several sheets of plywood and proceeded to set them down to form a dry pathway from the porch to the truck.
When he was finished, he sat on the step and pried off his muddy boots before stepping inside.
Penny was standing in the small galley kitchen unloading her cleaning supplies.
“How can you hope to clean when it’s so cold in here I can see my breath?” Sam crossed the room and set a log and kindling on the grate.
Minutes later he’d coaxed a thin flame that soon grew into a cozy fire. Satisfied that the little shack would soon be warm, he went outside to begin his chores.
Penny filled a huge pot with water and set it on the grate that covered the fire. While she waited for it to heat, she set about scrubbing the scarred wooden table and chairs, the long kitchen counter, and finally the floor, littered with muddy boot prints from the crew of wranglers. Then she attacked the small bathroom with the same vengeance, until it sparkled.
Once the water came to a boil she carried it to the small sink. Using a long-handled scrub brush and gritty cleanser, she soon had the serving dishes and pots and pans looking like new.
Nesting them one inside another, she picked up an armload and nudged the cabin door open. As she began storing them in the back of the truck, she found herself thankful that Sam had thought to cover the mud with plywood, providing a dry path over the mud.
Sam.
Earlier she’d heard him hammering up on the roof, where he’d apparently replaced some of the shingles. Now she heard the sound of an ax biting into wood and looked over to see him chopping firewood.
Despite the fact that snow had begun falling, he’d stripped off his parka and rolled up the sleeves of his plaid shirt before tackling such a daunting chore.
She stood transfixed, watching as he lifted the ax high over his head before bringing it down to bite cleanly through a log.
The wood splintered into several pieces, and he bent to stack them neatly alongside the others at the rear of the cabin, before positioning another log and repeating the process.
Penny didn’t know how long she stood there, watching the play of muscles along his arms.
As the ax landed again and again, she shivered at a sudden thought: he was magnificent. His body, sculpted from years of ranch chores, was so perfect, she had a sudden yearning that left her staggered. A yearning she’d been struggling to deny since she’d first met him. A hunger to be held in those arms and kissed until she was breathless.
At that moment he bent to pick up the fallen logs and caught sight of her.
“Hey, Money. Want to give it a try?”
“Not on your life. If I tried to do what you’re doing, my arms would fall off.”
He drove the ax into a log before walking toward her. “Now that’s something I wouldn’t like.”
“Seeing my arms fall off?”
“Yeah.” He gave her a dangerous smile. “Such pretty arms. They’re not made for chopping logs. These arms are made for holding.” He surprised her by gathering her against him. “Like this.”
“Sam…” Caught by surprise, she remained perfectly still.
“Relax, Money. It’s just a hug.”
“I have work…”
“Me, too. And I’m good at my work. But right now, I feel like playing.”
As he lowered his face to her, she turned away and his mouth grazed her ear.
Laughing, he caught her chin. “What’s the matter? Afraid of a little kiss?”
“Yes. No. Of course not. But we came here to work.”
“All work and no play is a real drag. Do you ever just relax and have fun, Money?”
“I’ve never had time for fun.”
“That’s just not right.” His voice lowered. “I see it as my duty to show you how to play.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s something you’re an expert on. Drinking, gambling, playing.”
“And kissing a pretty girl. Don’t forget that. It’s the most important game of all.”
“Oh, you.”
His smile grew, and he drew her close.
Against her ear he whispered, “All right. I’ll let you get back to your work. For now. But before the day is over, you’re going to ask me if we can play.”
“Don’t hold your breath.”
As she turned away, she could hear his low rumble of laughter. “I’ll bet you a hundred dollars on it.”
She stopped and turned her head. “If I were a gambler, which I’m not, that would be an easy bet for me to win. There’s no way I’m ever going to ask you if we can play.”
“You’re on, Money.”
“I told you. I don’t believe in—”
“I know. Anything that’s fun.” His laughter followed her as she stalked to the door of the cabin.
Chapter Seventeen
Penny looked up when the cabin door opened and Sam trudged in carrying an armload of firewood. His parka and hair were dusted with snow.
She saw more flakes on his back as he knelt and fed wood to the dying fire.
She gaped at the curtain of snow falling outside the open doorway. As she hurried across the room to close the door against the blast of cold air, she was even more surprised to see that the ground was no longer visible under a thick blanket of white. The plywood he’d set down as a path to the truck was completely obliterated.
“This looks bad. Are we going to be able to make it back down the mountain?”
“I doubt it.” Sam looked over. “It’s been howling for hours.”
“Hours?” She paused. “I guess I lost track of time.”
He stood and wiped his hands down his pants. “Easy to do when you’re working.” He looked around admiringly. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this old cabin so clean.”
; She hauled a bulging laundry bag toward the door. “I found clean bed linens in a storage closet, so I figured I’d strip all the bunks and make them up while I was here. That way they’re fresh whenever the next wrangler has need of shelter.”
He took the laundry from her hands. “I’ll store this in the back of the truck.”
As he reached for it, she became acutely aware of the heat from his body and felt a flush all the way to her toes.
From the way he was studying her, she was sure he could see her discomfort. She’d never been any good at hiding her feelings.
He was smiling as he strolled out the door and when he returned. He hung his parka on a hook beside the door. When he turned, he was adjusting the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel shirt.
Penny couldn’t seem to look away.
“The snow’s coming harder now. I figure the trail will be slick and dangerous. That is, if we can even find it. Are you going to be okay if we have to spend the night here?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“Now that you’ve asked…” He winked. “We don’t have a prayer of getting through this. Looks like you’re stuck spending the night with me, Miss Money.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, tapping her foot as she considered the implications. She could make a fuss and insist on returning to the ranch. She was pretty certain Sam would try to accommodate her. But if her insistence should cause an accident, she would never be able to forgive herself. Still, the thought of spending the night alone with Sam had her nerves fluttering.
His words broke into her musings. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“Why am I not surprised? A guy and his stomach. The only thing that matters more to him is…” Her face flamed at what she’d almost said.
His smile widened, and she braced herself for the teasing words she knew would follow.
“Why, shame on you, Miss Money. I’m shocked, I tell you. Shocked and appalled that a prim and proper teacher like you should even know about such things.”