Page 38 of Christmas at the Ranch
Beatrix continued to surprise her. Underneath that glamorous exterior, the hair that was now the color of butter with a hint of gold, the skin that was so smooth, it was almost sparkly, she genuinely cared about other people.
“Drew wanted to bring up the tray, but Arthur asked me to do it.” Samantha pointed to the tray. “There’s soup and bread and hot tea.”
“That’s wonderful, I’m ravenous.” Beatrix sat up higher, her hair fanning out against the headboard. “First, I want to hear about Drew. Did you talk to him?”
Beatrix looked so much better. If Samantha told her about Kaman, she may feel bad all over again.
“I told Drew you wanted a family,” Samantha said instead. “He wants a family too.”
“I knew you’d get through to him.” Beatrix’s eyes shone. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“I didn’t say much.” Samantha’s cheeks turned hot. “I just—”
“You don’t have to say much, you have this way about you,” Beatrix gushed. “You’re so steady.” Beatrix studied her fingernails. “I had a thought, it’s the most wonderful idea in the world!”
“What kind of idea?” Samantha asked anxiously, hoping it didn’t involve having to tell any more little white lies.
“I’ve always hated large weddings; it seems such a waste to have a big reception. The photographer is always pulling the bride andgroom away and there’s barely time to talk to the guests. You spend all that time choosing floral arrangements and sampling wedding cakes, then you don’t have time to enjoy them.”
Samantha was surprised. She expected women like Beatrix to dream of a wedding straight from the pages ofVogue. Beatrix would wear an elaborate gown with endless layers of chiffon, and there would be a twelve-piece orchestra and a cake that was so tall, it took six people to carry.
“I’m sure Drew won’t insist on a big wedding,” Samantha said. “Perhaps you could have it at the house in Connecticut.”
“That’s even worse.” Beatrix rolled her eyes. “If you have the wedding at home, the plumbing could break, or the caterers could forget the wineglasses.” She brightened. “I have a better idea. We’ll have the wedding here at the ranch, on New Year’s Eve!”
Samantha’s jaw dropped in astonishment. What would Drew say?
“You couldn’t possibly do that,” Samantha protested. “That’s in five days.”
“I’m sure Arthur was planning some kind of New Year’s Eve party. He’ll be delighted.” Beatrix warmed to her theme. “It will be so intimate, just Arthur and all the guests. What could be more romantic than a white wedding at a ranch in Wyoming?”
It would be terribly romantic. The ceremony would be in front of the stone fireplace in the living room. They could clear out the furniture for dancing, and the cake table would be next to the window. Snow would be falling softly outside; at midnight everyone would toast the bride and groom with champagne from Arthur’s wine cellar.
Samantha shook herself. What was she thinking? Drew was worried about disappointing Kaman, while Samantha was helping Beatrix plan their wedding.
“It sounds wonderful, but what about your parents and friends?” Samantha asked.
“My parents won’t mind,” Beatrix insisted. “They’ll throw us a big party when we’re back in New York.” Her voice caught, and for a moment she seemed less confident. “To be honest, I don’t have many friends. I wondered if you would be my maid of honor.”
Samantha’s eyes widened.
“We’ve known each other for two days,” Samantha protested. “You must have a best friend from high school or college who would be furious if I took her place.”
“I didn’t have a best friend in high school.” Beatrix shrugged.
Beatrix was probably the head of the “mean girl squad,” like Blair inGossip Girl. Even Blair had Serena. There must have been someone who Beatrix was close to.
“Your roommate in college then,” Samantha tried again.
“All the girls in high school and college were so cliquey,” Beatrix said.
She reached into a drawer and took out a photo. She handed it to Samantha.
The photo was of a teenage girl with mouse-colored hair and braces.
“Who’s this?” Samantha inquired.
“That’s me at sixteen,” Beatrix answered. “My first crush was on my orthodontist because he fixed my overbite,” she said with a smile. “I would have fallen in love with my mother’s colorist too, but he was gay.” She ticked off items on her fingers. “Then there was the personal trainer at my mother’s gym, and the private shopper at Bloomingdale’s. By the time I graduated from college, I had been worked on by New York’s top beauty professionals.”
