Page 34 of Christmas at the Ranch
She closed the journal and placed it on the bedside table.
It was almost surprising to see the snow on the windowpane. She half expected to glance up and see Jackson Hole in the summer: green fields and forests thick with fir trees. Samantha always felt like that when she was immersed in writing. She’d hear Socks scratching to go out and think he was a baby leopard trapped in ahunter’s cage. Or her phone would buzz and she expected the caller to be Phineas warning her that the take-out delivery guy was actually the errand boy for a sinister crime syndicate.
Who was Diana and how did her diary end up in Arthur’s library? Nancy Drew would want to know more, and Nancy Drew would think of a way to find out.
Samantha had an idea. She grabbed a sweater and hurried downstairs to the mudroom to borrow a coat and boots.
Just crossing the driveway to the barn was colder than she had imagined. Inside, the air smelled of dry hay and the barn was pleasantly warm.
“Hello, Blixen.” She reached into her pocket and took out four sugar cubes. “I brought you some sugar cubes, don’t tell the other horses. If I took any more there wouldn’t be enough for the guests’ coffee. I promise to bring more tomorrow.”
Blixen nuzzled her palm. He tipped his head back and swallowed the sugar.
“You really are a lucky horse, it’s cozy in here,” she said conversationally. “It’s snowing so hard outside; you wouldn’t be able to see your own nose.”
Footsteps sounded behind her. She turned and Bruno stepped out of a stall.
“I thought I smelled perfume,” Bruno said, smiling at her. “I didn’t think anyone was brave enough to come out in this weather.”
“I meant to bring Blixen some sugar for his birthday,” Samantha replied. “I hope he doesn’t mind that I’m late.”
“Don’t worry, my wife and I spoiled him.” Bruno grinned. “I brought our Christmas leftovers: turkey and stuffing and apple pie for dessert. Blixen wasn’t fond of the pie, but he loved the whipped cream topping.”
Samantha laughed. She stroked Blixen’s nose.
“I’m the same way. Every Christmas when I was growing up, my mother spent all day baking mince pies, but all I wanted was whipped cream in a bowl.”
“It’s too bad you aren’t staying in Jackson Hole until the summer,” Bruno mused. “You and Blixen would make a good pair. He loves having a rider who cares about him.”
“That’s the other reason I came out to the barn.” Samantha warmed to her subject. “You said this used to be a dude ranch.”
“For years,” Bruno said, nodding. “It was called Snake Wheel Ranch.”
Samantha was momentarily sidetracked from her questions. Why would anyone put the word “snake” in the name of a ranch? It was like an author using “spider” in a book title. It might attract a certain readership, but what about readers like Samantha who were afraid of spiders? They’d never pick it up.
“So, it wasn’t the Grand Teton Dude Ranch?” Samantha inquired.
“The Grand Teton Dude Ranch was on the other side of town,” Bruno recalled. “Dude ranches come and go. These days they’re started by CEOs of tech start-ups who want to take their profits and try something different. Years ago, they were owned by the heads of movie studios who suddenly imagined themselves as cowboys. Most of them lasted one winter before deciding they’d rather run a sailing school in the Bahamas.”
“Oh, I see.” Samantha tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She had been sure that Arthur’s ranch was once the Grand Teton Dude Ranch. “I thought this might have been the Grand Teton.”
“Why the interest in dude ranches?” Bruno dragged his bucketto the next stall. “Are you going to set a book in Jackson Hole? Elaine tried to write a book about Jackson Hole once. She never got past the first chapter, she’s not good at sitting for long periods.”
“Writing is very mundane,” Samantha agreed. “People think an author’s life is riding around in limousines and preening onGood Morning America. Most writers spend their days in a bathrobe and slippers, glued to their computer.”
Except for Melody Minnow. Melody mentioned in an interview that she slept naked. She probably didn’t even own a bathrobe. Melody must dictate her books while riding a Peloton.
Setting a Sloane Parker book in Jackson Hole was a good idea. Samantha already had an idea for a plot. Sloane suspects that one of the guests at the dude ranch is Cliff Burbank, the head of a Ponzi scheme. She invites Cliff to play pool at Bull Moose Saloon. Cliff accepts and Samantha lets him win three straight games. She keeps plying him with Bull Moose vodka gimlets and he ends up boasting about separating unsuspecting senior citizens from their pensions. Samantha sends the phone recording to Phineas at British Intelligence and FBI agents are waiting for Cliff when he boards his private jet at Jackson Hole Airport.
Phineas is so pleased; he suggests Sloane spend an extra week at the ranch and enjoy herself. The only thing Samantha regrets is letting Cliff win at pool. Sloane became a champion billiard player while she was a Rhodes Scholar at Oxford and never lost a match.
“I’ll consider it,” Samantha responded, stroking Blixen’s nose. “I came across something interesting, but it turns out it was merely a coincidence.”
Bruno put down the bucket.
“I don’t believe in coincidences, most things happen for a reason,”Bruno reflected. “Like the way Elaine and I met. I was working over Christmas on the mountain. One night I asked a pretty blonde from California named Suzy to go night skiing. At the last minute my mother called. She and my father had just driven into town and wanted me to have dinner with them.” He smiled at his own story. “What would you do if you were a twenty-year-old male who was dying to share a chairlift with the girl of your dreams? But I could never say no to my mother, and they had driven two hundred miles to visit me. On the same night, the hostess at the Silver Dollar Grill was sick and her roommate, Elaine, filled in for her. Elaine was supposed to meet some guy to go night skiing too. But she couldn’t let down her roommate. If Elaine and I had stuck with our plans, we wouldn’t have ended up together.” He picked up the bucket. “Coincidences don’t exist. Everything important that happens in life is fate.”
Or fate could string you along, giving little hints for three years that you found the person you’re going to be happy with forever. Like when Roger stood Samantha up on their second date and she was determined to never see him again. It was only after she left Adrienne’s Pizzabar in Midtown, where she had waited for an hour, and wandered into Joe’s Pizza to get two pepperoni slices to go, one for her and one for Socks, that she found out what happened.
