Page 63 of Christmas at the Ranch
“Last night, I came home from the bar and saw you and Beatrix next to the window. I thought, I thought…,” Samantha blurted out.
“We were saying goodbye,” Drew acknowledged. “Beatrix wasembarrassed about having to tell my father the news. He’s a grown man, though. We can’t get married to please him.”
Samantha put down her teacup. She wanted to say something but her head was throbbing. She was having trouble concentrating.
She’d go to the bathroom and splash warm water on her face. Then she’d come back and finish their conversation.
She stood up, but her head was foggy and her stomach ached. She put out her hand to steady herself. Then the lobby with its glorious Christmas tree and colored lights seemed to tilt. Her knees buckled and everything went black.
Samantha blinked and opened her eyes. She was lying in her bed at the ranch. There was a mug of hot cocoa, and the bedside table was scattered with cough medicine and a box of tissues.
The last few hours were hazy. She remembered Drew piling her into the car and driving to the ranch. He carried her upstairs and then she had a succession of visitors: Arthur and the doctor, and Bruno with a plate of Elaine’s biscuits.
She tried to tell everyone she was fine but she kept drifting in and out of sleep. Now she was awake, but her head pounded and it was hard to open her eyes.
“You’re awake,” a male voice said.
Samantha opened her eyes wider. Drew sat beside the bed. He put down the magazine he’d been reading.
“How long have you been sitting there?” she wondered.
“Long enough to learn everything about the bison population in Jackson Hole,” he said with a grin.
Samantha tried to sit up. She winced and fell back against the pillows.
“You didn’t have to stay with me. It’s just a cold.”
“Combined with delayed shock from the fire, and a few bruises from riding the mechanical bull,” Drew confirmed. “Dr. Parr said you’re not to get out of bed. He’ll come back and check on you in the morning.”
“We only have two more days at the ranch,” Samantha protested. Her body felt shivery and her throat hurt.
“That’s why you have to follow his instructions,” Drew commented. “My father is mortified. He wanted you to know he’ll do anything: ask the cook to prepare special meals, lease a private jet to fly you home.”
Samantha cringed; she’d never fly in a private jet. They were so small; how could one feel safe in a plane the size of a mini cereal box? And you never knew who was the pilot. It could be an ex–Air Force pilot who thought nothing of doing tricks in the air.
“That’s very kind of him. But I’m not hungry and I’m quite happy to fly back commercial.”
“You had us all very worried,” Drew reflected. “Me, especially.” He spread out his hands. “To be honest, I was so nervous telling you my feelings. I didn’t expect that kind of reaction.”
Samantha started to laugh. But Drew looked so serious. She bit her lip and covered her face with her hands.
“It had nothing to do with what you said,” she began. “Actually I…” Her throat was parched and she reached for a glass of water.
Drew handed her the glass.
“Why don’t we talk about it tomorrow,” he offered. “Dr. Parr is downstairs. If you pass out again, it will be my fault.”
Samantha nodded in agreement. She was too tired to talk about anything.
“If you don’t mind,” she ventured.
Drew stood up. He kissed her softly on the cheek.
“I’m going to go and check on the chicken soup,” Drew said. “Just because you’re not hungry doesn’t mean you shouldn’t eat.”
He walked to the door and turned around.
“Samantha, I want you to know I meant everything I said,” he began. “Just looking at you while you were sleeping made me realize again that you’re the loveliest woman I’ve ever met.”
