Page 77 of Christmas at the Ranch
Her phone buzzed and she answered another call from her mother.
“Samantha, how are you?” her mother asked. “Did you see my photos on Instagram?”
“I haven’t checked my feed this morning,” Samantha replied.
“The New Year’s Eve ball is tonight and the royal palace treated me to a complimentary visit at the beauty salon,” her mother continued. “I have French nails plus a new hairstyle. The stylist wanted me to get extensions but I wasn’t ready to try that.” She paused. “I was calling to ask how it’s going with your new man.”
Samantha sat up against the headboard. She hadn’t mentioned Drew to her mother.
“How do you know I met someone?”
“I had a feeling,” her mother clucked. “Your father and I visited a fortune-teller this afternoon. It’s all the rage in Monaco and perfectly legitimate. Madame LeFevre read my palm and saw church bells in my future. Your father says she meant the bells at the cathedral that ring at midnight on New Year’s Eve, but he’s wrong. I have my own intuition and I predict wedding bells in the near future.”
Samantha was about to say wedding bells were as likely as snow in Monte Carlo. But there was no one else she could talk to. Perhaps her mother had some advice.
“I did meet someone,” Samantha conceded. “He’s warm and kind and handsome. But I did something stupid, and I’m afraid he won’t forgive me.”
“We all do foolish things sometimes,” her mother said. “When your father and I were on the Alaskan cruise last year, he dressed up as a polar bear on Halloween. It was one of the most embarrassing nights of my life. And he won’t let me forget how I sobbed during the first dance at Aunt Phyllis’s wedding. I’ve never been good at drinking straight tequila, and ‘At Last’ always makes me cry.”
Samantha took a deep breath. “This is a little bit different. I kept a secret from him. It wasn’t my secret to share, but I should have told him anyway.”
“I’m not sure one should share everything in a relationship,” her mother countered. “When your father turned fifty, he wanted atoupee. He looked like a French mime but I never said anything. He decided against it, but I couldn’t hurt his feelings by telling him the truth.”
“This is a bit more serious than that,” Samantha said. “He’s hurt and I don’t know if he’ll forgive me.”
“Do you really care about him?” her mother wondered.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” Samantha admitted.
“Do you remember the book report you wrote in the fifth grade? It was forMy Friend Flicka. The book is about a ten-year-old boy named Ken who lives on a ranch in Wyoming. Ken receives a filly named Flicka and it’s Ken’s job to care for her. Ken loves Flicka more than anything. Flicka is wounded and Ken’s father might have to put her down. The day before she’s supposed to be shot, Flicka wades into a stream and gets stuck. Ken goes in after her, but he can’t release her. He spends the night in the stream comforting her. In the morning, Ken’s father finds them. Ken has developed a fever but Flicka’s wound is better. Ken almost dies from pneumonia, but Flicka improves. By the end of the book, Ken and Flicka both recover.
“In the report, you wrote that there was nothing more important than standing by the things you love. You got an A+ and I was so proud of you,” her mother finished. “If you have feelings for this man, you can’t let him go. It may not happen immediately, but eventually he’ll get over it. Love is more powerful than you think.” Her voice cracked. “If it wasn’t, your father and I would never have made it to our thirtieth anniversary.”
“You and Dad are special,” Samantha said. For some reason, tears formed in her eyes. “Not every couple has a happy marriage and are good role models to their children.”
“You’re the one who’s special, Samantha,” her mother responded.“It was a delight to raise you, and nothing has changed since you became an adult. Though, I do worry about your wedding day.”
“What do you mean?” Samantha wondered.
“Your father and I will cry so much, we’ll run out of Kleenex,” she chuckled. “Just think how the head table at the reception will look if it’s littered with tissues.”
Samantha laughed a little too, and her mother said goodbye. Samantha hung up.
Outside the window, the ground was coated with fresh snow. The sun nestled between the mountains and a family of deer darted across the field.
Jackson Hole was so beautiful and so many wonderful things had happened in such a short period of time, Samantha couldn’t just give up now.
She jumped up and walked to the closet. She slipped on a pair of suede pants and a cashmere sweater. First, she’d do her hair and makeup and then she’d go downstairs. Drew had to appear sometime, and she’d be waiting for him.
Samantha spent the whole day curled up in an armchair in the living room. Every time the front door opened, she was certain it was Drew. But it never was.
By afternoon, she grew restless and walked out to the barn. No one was there, and she fed the horses and went back inside. She checked her phone a dozen times, but there was no call or text. She wanted to ask Arthur whether he’d seen Drew, but Arthur had gone into the village and hadn’t returned.
There was nothing to do except get ready for the party.
She trudged upstairs and tried to get excited about her dress.Emily had packed it, and it was lovely: a Marchesa ruffled-silk cocktail dress and silver stilettos. When she first unpacked the shoes, she texted Emily and said she couldn’t possibly walk in them, they were like something Sloane Parker would wear. Emily texted back that there would be no need for her to walk at a New Year’s Eve party. All Samantha had to do was stand in them, holding a glass of champagne.
Now, Samantha took them out of the box. There didn’t seem any point in wearing them when the only people who would notice were Arthur and perhaps Gladys. But she had promised she’d send Emily a photo.
