Page 42 of Christmas at the Ranch
Was there another time in a woman’s life when everything was about to change? When she was going to take a complete leap of faith and join her life to someone else’s? And of all the millions of people, how was it possible to find each other? To discover the one person who made everything all right? The person who brings you hot chicken soup even though he has the same flu. The person you throw a surprise party for to celebrate his promotion, even when it falls on the same day you get fired.
What if Samantha never found that person again? Even Socks couldn’t keep her company forever. And she could never get another dog to replace Socks.
Beatrix emerged from the dressing room.
At first, Samantha didn’t recognize her. It wasn’t the dress. Beatrix hadn’t chosen a gown with a huge puffy skirt, or a slinky sheath slit to the thigh. The outfit she was wearing was simple: a pleated skirt that fell to her calf and a matching bolero jacket. It was Beatrix’s expression that was different. Her eyes were misty and her mouth wobbled.
Beatrix had the look of a woman in love.
“What do you think?” Beatrix breathed.
Even Beatrix’s voice was unfamiliar. The question came out almost as a whisper.
Samantha took in the soft cashmere. The color that was not quite white and not exactly pink. Tears came to Samantha’s eyes and she blinked.
“Drew is lucky,” Samantha said truthfully. “You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.”
They left the bridal salon and turned down Main Street. A man carrying a flat box strode toward them.
“Drew!” Beatrix stopped. She reached up and kissed him. “What are you doing here?”
“The same as you, a little wedding shopping,” he replied, smiling at Beatrix and Samantha. “I was going to take the gondola to the top of the mountain and have lunch. You two should join me.”
“I can’t, I have an appointment with the florist at the ranch.” Beatrix shook her head. She turned to Samantha. “You should go. It’s past lunchtime, and we haven’t had a bite. You must be hungry.”
The last thing Samantha wanted was to be alone with Drew. And besides, the gondola ride seemed terrifying. She never understoodhow people could willingly shut themselves into a box the size of a Lego kit and dangle hundreds of feet from the ground. What if there was a strong wind and the wire snapped? It was too awful to think about.
“I should be there when you meet the florist,” Samantha said. “I’ll fix a sandwich at the ranch.”
“You helped me enough this morning.” Beatrix gently propelled Samantha toward Drew. “A restaurant on the mountain will be more fun. And you’ll be doing me a favor.” She smiled cheekily. “We don’t want the groom to be alone so close to the wedding. He might have second thoughts and get cold feet.”
Samantha glanced at Drew. She thought he would say they should all go back to the ranch. Instead he merely handed his box to Beatrix.
“Could you take this for me?” he asked. “Don’t show it to my father. It’s his best man present.”
Samantha was silent on the gondola. Even with the arrowhead pendant around her neck, there was still a queasy feeling in her stomach. She kept her eyes on a little girl in a pink ski suit, holding a stuffed bunny. If the little girl could sit in the gondola without being afraid, so could Samantha.
“Are you all right?” Drew asked, when the gondola doors opened. “Your lips are white and you pulled the button off your jacket.”
Samantha glanced down at her parka. She had pulled the button off. She’d have to find a needle and thread and restitch it.
“I’m fine,” she said sheepishly. “Heights make me nauseous on an empty stomach.”
Drew took her arm and led her toward the restaurant.
“Then we better feed you,” he offered. “You won’t be sorry youcame. The Piste Mountain Bistro has the best views of anywhere in the valley.”
The hostess seated them at a window table. The sky was a fierce blue, and snow-covered mountains stretched on forever. Far below, the shops in Teton Village huddled together, and in the distance, she could see the white expanse of the National Elk Refuge.
Drew ordered two plates of smoked chicken macaroni and cheese, with warm cheddar biscuits. There was a pot of honey butter and a green salad tossed with pine nuts.
“The cheddar biscuits are delicious,” Samantha said, breathing in the scent of warm pastry and cheese.
Drew took a sip of hot apple cider. He wore a navy ski sweater that made his eyes even bluer.
“It’s nice to have someone to talk to,” Drew said truthfully.
Samantha put down her butter knife. She tried to appear nonchalant.
