“Sure.”
Mercedes came into the entryway. “Oh, let me take those for you.” She smelled them too. “Hi, Sam.”
“Hi, Mercedes.”
Cat grinned as she handed over the flowers and darted her eyes towards Chet in a silent plea for Mercedes to haul him away.
Mercedes hooked her elbow through Chet’s. “Come on, I might need your height to reach the vase.”
Sisters are awesome!
Sam took Cat’s coat. “Let me help you with that.” He held it open, and she slipped one arm in and then the other. He settled it onto her shoulders, and his hands lingered. Cat leaned back, feeling his solid chest against her coat. He quickly kissed her cheek. “You look beautiful.”
“Thanks. You look great. I love that color on you.”
Mercedes and Chet were coming out of the kitchen. “Let’s go.” Cat grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him outside before Chet could corner them again. Once in the fresh air, with their breath in puffy clouds and the porch light dusting their hair, Cat gave herself over to the joy of being with Sam.
“So where are we going?”
“I made reservations in Billings, but there’s a storm warning, so I thought Granny’s Kitchen would be better.” Sam opened her door. “Sorry. I wanted our first date to be a little more special than a diner, but we’re limited on options here.”
Cat bit her lip. Sam wasn’t embarrassed to say those sweet little things that made her heart fly out of the park like a Big Poppy home run. She could say them too. “It doesn’t matter where we go—it’s special because I’m with you.”
Sam leaned into her hand, melting as if her words had been a warm blanket and he’d just come in from the cold. He gathered her into his arms and squeezed her tight, lifting her up off her toes. “Yep. You’re real.” He grinned as he put her back on her feet.
Cat laughed.
Thankful she’d watched a YouTube video about getting in and out of a truck without revealing your innermost secrets. She hopped into the cab with ease. Sam shut her door and ran around to the other side.
Cat bit her lip. The anticipation of an evening with her cowboy prince bubbled inside her. There was that nagging worry about the clock striking twelve and her flight for Boston. Things would work out. They had to.
* * *
Even though dinner hadn’t been at the posh restaurant he’d planned, it was nevertheless the best dinner of Sam’s life. They hadn’t lacked for topics of conversation. Not once had he found her glancing at her phone or checking the clock on the wall. When he helped her into the truck, her hand on his shoulder and her eyes on his, Sam counted himself the luckiest son of a gun in Montana.
“Where to?” Cat asked as he slammed his door shutting out the evening cold. It was only eight-thirty, but the temperature had dropped below twenty degrees. There was snow in the forecast, and things could get ugly quick. Starting the truck, he let the engine warm up before turning on the heater. Thankfully, they didn’t have long to wait.
“Would you like some dessert?” Sam smiled.
Cat’s hand went to her belly. “After the steak I just pounded down?”
Sam laughed. He’d enjoyed watching Cat enjoy her meal. How many women had he taken out who had, with sour faces, picked at a salad or slurped soup? He once again wanted to touch her, just to see if she was real. Hooking his pinkie finger through hers made his heart jolt.
“It’s chocolate.”
Cat perked up. “In that case …”
For once, Sam was upset at himself for buying a newer truck with bucket seats. In his old clunker, he’d had a bench seat, which made it easy for girls to sit close while he drove. Cat seemed too far away even though she was in the seat next to him.
“How often do you talk to your parents?” he asked for the sake of conversation.
Cat’s hand flinched. Sam turned up the heater.
“A couple times a week. We don’t schedule calls—just pick up the phone when we miss one another.”
“I can’t imagine living that far away from my parents.”
“Why not?”
“I’ve always wanted to work with my dad. He was like Superman to me growing up. He had big, strong hands that could bend branches out of the way if needed. And he taught me things through example that made me love him even more.”
“Like what?” Cat turned her knees towards him.
Sam thought for a moment. It wasn’t that it was hard to come up with something wonderful to share about his dad. The difficulty came in the choosing which anecdote to share. “Like, one time, a wife of a worker … and you have to understand, this guy had been a jerk all week. He’d demanded payment at the end of each day and never worked a minute past quitting time. Anyway, she fell in the cabin and hit her head on the corner of the bed. She needed stitches, but they couldn’t afford to take her to the hospital. Dad took her into Old Doc Taggart and paid for the bill right there. He taught me to care about people and what happens to them—even if they wouldn’t do the same for you.”
Cat smiled softly. “Did you ever see the worker again?”
Sam grinned. “Jorge is our crew manager now. See, Dad saw what I couldn’t. He saw the fear in Jorge’s eyes. He didn’t act that way to be a jerk. He wanted payment so he could feed his kids, and he quit right on time so his wife didn’t have to worry about being alone in the bunkhouse when the single fellas got off work. Not that anything bad has happened before.”
“Sounds like a good person.”
“Dad or Jorge?”
“Both.”
Cat laced her fingers through his and leaned her head back. She looked content just to ride alongside him. Sam was struck with a sense of finding truth in a dating world full of uncertainty.
He pulled past his cabin and parked in front of the garage in the back.
“Are we eating in a barn?” Cat leaned forward to peer into the darkness beyond the headlights.
“Technically, it’s a garage.” Sam pulled the door handle and exited the vehicle. He opened Cat’s door and helped her out. Her sweater dress slid right off the leather seats. He’d never seen a sweater dress before, but he liked the way it was soft on the eyes and to the touch. Not that he’d touched more than Cat’s lower back tonight. And not that he had plans to touch anything else. Wanting to throw a snowball in his own face for his wild thoughts, Sam led her through the small door and into the heated garage.
That afternoon, he’d swept the cement floor and moved the snowmobile and four-wheelers to the back. Then, he’d set up a small card table and covered it with one of his mom’s lace tablecloths. Two black folding chairs sat on opposite sides, and three candles waited to be lit in the center. He stepped around Cat and lit the wicks. Then he lit the lanterns hanging along the walls and turned off the overhead lights, bathing the room in a soft glow.
Cat gasped. “Sam Miller, you’re quite the romantic.”
Sam hoped the lights were low enough that she couldn’t see the heat rush up his cheeks. “Don’t tell Chet.”
Cat pressed her lips together and pretended to lock them with a key.
Sam put his arm around her waist. “Now don’t go locking those away just yet. I’m hoping to make good use of them later on.”
Cat smiled, ducking her head. “How much later on?”
Sam tipped her chin up. “Not that much later.”
“How ’bout no later?”
“No later is good.” He leaned down and sampled her lips. They were warm and inviting. He kissed her slow, with the intent of showing her how much he enjoyed her company, how much he was beginning to care about her. Cat’s lips moved with his and her arms found their way around his neck. She tipped his hat back, and he felt her smile against his lips. Eventually, he had to force himself to pull away or he’d stand in his garage and kiss Cat all night long.
“Question.” Cat’s eyes sparkled.
“Go ahead.” He ushered her into a seat.
“How many cowboy hats do you own?”<
br />
“Hmm.” Sam reached behind him and pulled a sealed plastic container out of the small beverage fridge. “This felt hat and a working felt hat.”
“The tan one?”
“Yep.” He took off the lid and dished them both a serving of chocolate pudding cake with whipped cream. “Then I have a dress straw hat and a work straw hat as well.”
“Why do you have two dress hats and two work hats?”
“The felt hats are warmer, so I use them in the winter. Straw hats are lighter and have ventilation for working in the sun. Why?”
“Research,” Cat replied. She tasted her pudding cake, closed her eyes, and sighed. “This is good.”
“Thanks. I bought them at the bakery.”
Cat laughed. “I was going to ask for the recipe.”
“It’s a few dollars and a few minutes in line.”
“I think I can handle that one.”
“Research for what?”
Cat licked her lips. “A book.”
“Uh-oh. Am I in one of your books?”
Cat’s eyes could have bored a hole in the tabletop. “Not you specifically. But I do write a few cowboys.”
“I’ll have to read one sometime.”
Cat shook her head quickly, sending her curls to bouncing. “They’re really more for women.”
Sam got the impression she had something to hide, but since she sold her books on Amazon, he couldn’t imagine that she’d think it would stay a secret—whatever it was. He wasn’t too worried. Cat was too honest to do anything to cause him grief.
“Have you ever two-stepped?” Sam asked as they finished off their dessert.
“Nope.” Cat dabbed her lips with the napkin.
“Well then, you’ve never really danced.” He held out his hand.
Cat shrugged. Smiling, she took his hand. He set his phone on the table and started his playlist. George Straight began to sing, and Cat tapped her foot to the beat. “Are you going to throw me over your shoulder or anything?”
Sam put his right hand on her hip and lifted her hand with his other. She automatically placed her fingers at the top of his bicep. In traditional two-step, her hand would be closer to his shoulder with his elbow held high, but he wasn’t too worried about form. He was more interested in holding Cat close. Moving slowly, he showed her the basic steps, and pretty soon they were making the circle around the room. Sam counted, just loud enough for the two of them to hear.
“Stop looking down.” Sam lifted her chin.
“If I don’t watch them, my feet will misbehave,” said Cat. At that very moment, she missed a step.
Sam pulled her closer to him. “Try not thinking so hard and feeling more.” This close, he could sense the movements of her body and anticipate them. He could also use his body to lead.
Cat found the rhythm, and their feet step-step-quickstepped in sync. Nice enough that Sam stopped counting and worked in a spin here and there. The first song ended and the second one started up.
The two of them didn’t even slow down. By the third song, Sam was able to spin her out and away and bring her back, their arms tangled in harmonized chaos. Cat smiled, giggled, and sighed intermittently, making it difficult for Sam to pay attention.
“Ha!” She winked when they’d completed a more advanced move. Sam pulled her close, his feet slowing and his heart rate speeding up. Sure, they were in his garage with a few old lanterns and some candles, but it might as well have been a ball at Buckingham Palace. Cat was worth more than the crown jewels in his eyes.
He brushed his finger across her cheek, amazed at how soft her skin felt and the acceptance he found in her gaze. Every moment up to this point flashed before his eyes, and he could see the dance they had done that brought them together. His uncertainties and doubts, her desire to be friends first. All of it choreographed to bring them together in this perfect moment. It was that very look of acceptance that stirred a yearning in his soul.
The first time Sam attended a wedding was when he was fifteen years old. When Pastor John said “love and honor,” Sam’s thoughts got stuck like a truck in a mud bog. He looked up the meaning of honor that night and found the synonyms esteem and reverence. Slamming the dictionary shut, he vowed that he wouldn’t get married until he found a woman he could esteem and reverence.
Cat was that woman.
He was awed that she, the most beautiful and tender person in Montana, would want him. Overwhelmed with the love building inside, Sam took her face in his hands. As Clint Black serenaded them, Sam kissed the woman he’d been born to love.
Chapter 13
Sam bounded out of his truck. He was taking Cat snowmobiling behind his cabin, and then they were going to watch a movie with Mercedes and Chet. Since he could easily get lost in Cat if they were alone, he decided double-dating was a good idea.
“I’ve got it!” he heard Cat yell from behind the closed front door when he knocked. Her footsteps pounded down the stairs, and then the door flew open and she was rosy-cheeked and smiling. “Hi.”
“Hi back.” Sam stepped in and Cat stepped into his arms. “Are you ready to go?”
“Yes.” Grabbing her jacket, Cat popped her head into the living room. “I’m going snowmobiling. Do you need anything?” she asked her grandpa.
He’d been up and about the last couple of days. He’d even finished the painting for the bunkhouses—with Aiden’s help. Cat said that the shot seemed to do the trick. Sam was happy to see her worry gone, and he was glad that Edward was moving again.
Edward lifted a hand. “I’m good. Have fun.”
“We will.” She threw her arms around his neck, and Sam smiled against her lips. She did this spontaneous kiss thing that stirred his heart. He wasn’t used to it, and he hoped he never would be.
“Not too much fun!” Edward called.
Cat laughed. Her phone rang, and he pulled back enough for her to reach it in her pocket. Now that he had her in his arms, he didn’t want to let go. They could go snowmobiling anytime …
She answered without checking the caller ID. “Hello?”
Sam pressed his lips to her temple, drinking in the peach and sawdust scent that was uniquely Cat. Being this close meant he could hear the person on the other line.
“Hi, honey. How are things?”
Cat winked at Sam. “Things are good.”
Sam kissed her neck, knowing she would giggle. She swatted at him. He stopped, but only because he hadn’t met her dad yet and didn’t want to make a bad first impression.
“I went ahead and scheduled your flight with our extra miles. Your mom and I will be at the airport to pick you up.”
Cat went stiff in his arms. “That’s … great.”
“The whole department is taking you to lunch on your first day.”
Cat looked at him with a mixture of panic and remorse.
Flight? Sam’s hands went cold. First day? That didn’t sound good at all.
Cat looked up at Sam. “Dad? I’ve got to call you back.”
“I can’t wait to have you home, honey. With Mercedes marrying Chet, which we’re happy about—don’t get me wrong, we’ve missed you. We were planning on you both coming back and I can’t tell you what this means to your mother and I.”
Sam’s arms dropped.
“Thanks, Dad. I love you.” They said goodbye, and Cat slipped the phone back into her pocket. “Sam.” She reached for him.
Sam stepped back. “You’re moving?”
Cat blew out a heavy sigh. “Yes? I mean—there’s this job …” She stared at her boots, not even bothering to look him in the eye.
“Then what was this?” He wagged his finger back and forth between the two of them.
“I, I didn’t plan on this. I mean, I want it but I can’t pass up this opportunity and my dad…”She bit her lip.
“I see.” He did see. He saw all too well. He’d followed his gut, and his heart was tossed aside. “Congratulations.”
“Sam …” Cat’s hand went
to her neck and she brushed her fingers over the spots he’d kissed.
Only minutes before, he thought he had found his partner. His eternal best friend. The woman he could start a family with—and she’d played him. Her kisses hadn’t felt fake—they felt like love and tasted sweeter than blackberry honey.
If he had known …
He had known better. He’d vowed to use his head and not his stupid instincts.
“I’ve got things to do.” Like sign up for a heart transplant. Even though he’d been down this road before, this one hurt. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a rain check on the movie.” If he stayed any longer, he’d crumble. He bolted from the house, looking like a coward but somehow not caring.
“Sam!” Cat called behind him. He didn’t slow down. His breath came in jagged chunks. He blamed it on the cold, constricted feeling around his chest. Winters in Snow Valley were like that—they could freeze the breath in your lungs. The truck heater didn’t bring him relief. He finally pulled over and clutched his fist to his chest. There was only one reason Cat could hurt him so deeply: he loved her. He loved her, and she was leaving.
Groaning, he bumped his head against the headrest.
Chapter 14
A week passed, and the pain still crushed him. Sam had held the perfect woman in his arms, and she’d run away. He could easily forgive and forget the other women who had played him—after all, dating was a game. But Cat wasn’t a game to him. She was the real thing—yet he’d lost. He’d lost so much more than he’d realized was on the line when he walked out that day.
He’d lost love.
He’d lost his future wife.
He’d lost their children.
He’d lost the ability to dream of a life beyond being single.
No wonder he was a mess.
Staring at the clock, he watched the minutes tick by, knowing that the bank manager was probably trying to get hold of him right now. He’d shut his phone off last night and not bothered to turn it on again when he woke up. He couldn’t bring himself to go into town and sign on the dotted line. The dream no longer felt attainable.
Winter in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance) Page 9