A Grand Teton Sleigh Ride: Four Generations of Wyoming Ranchers Celebrate Love at Christmas (20 page)

“Before we head back to the ranch, we should get you outfitted for travel in the backcountry. Let’s leave your luggage with the hotel for now. We’ll come back to retrieve it.”

“I was going to suggest the very same thing. Best to take care of that now. There’s another chore that I should have taken care of yesterday.” She tugged an envelope from her dainty tasseled purse and handed it to Sam. “This was what I paid to Frankston who broke our agreement, so I assume the amount will be acceptable to you.”

Sam swallowed. He’d not been much of a businessman to agree to her terms without negotiating the finances first, but then he’d assumed she would be good for the money. He’d been right. He reached for the envelope and their fingers brushed. Sam wished he hadn’t noticed. “I thank you for your payment, and I hope I can deliver.”

That smile again. “Oh, I’m sure you will. That’s only a deposit, by the way. The rest will be paid to you upon completion of our business.”

He swallowed to chase away the sudden dryness in his throat. For some reason, thinking of her leaving didn’t sit well in his gut. He scraped his hat from his head.

“I’ll be honest with you,” she said. “I’d love to see this place painted in snow. It would be such a winter wonderland. The photographs would make my heart sing, but I can’t stay that long. I need to get out before the first snow.”

Sam didn’t have the heart to tell her no one could accurately predict when that would be. It could come sooner than expected. Or later than usual. “Because?”

“I need to make it back to New York before my father returns from his honeymoon in Europe. I’ve heard stories of people getting trapped in the valley because of the Teton Pass.”

“Ah yes, the infamous Pass. That doesn’t happen too often.” Sam set his Stetson back where it belonged.

“But it does happen.” She arched a brow.

“With me as your guide, you’ll be done in plenty of time. Don’t you worry about the pass.”

He hoped he could trust himself on that. Snow would certainly happen on the pass before it blanketed the valley. Then the residents would store their gas-powered trucks and cars away for the winter and bring out the horse-drawn sleighs. The thought of showing Ann her winter wonderland in the Covington sleigh kindled something inside, but he quickly doused that spark.

Ann allowed Sam to escort her around the square and down a couple of blocks, automobiles kicking up dirt and dust from the road. She spotted someone on a horse, just as a motorcar whizzed by and spooked the poor animal.

“Doesn’t seem that long ago when there was nothing but horses and buggies,” Sam said and ushered her on. “The Jackson Mercantile is just across the way.”

“I’ve seen a lot of changes in the last decade, as well,” she said. “Makes my head spin.”

“If you stay in the valley until it snows you’ll see this place go back a few decades.”

“Oh?” She glanced his way. “How’s that?”

“The snow’s too deep and the roads don’t get plowed. Everyone puts away their automobiles in favor of the old reliable horse and sleigh.”

Ann gasped. “How beautiful that must be.”

Sam’s eyes twinkled. “The snow is a lot of trouble, but then again, seeing the horses pulling the sleighs is right pretty.”

“Does the Covington family have one?”

He nodded and pressed his hand against the small of her back to direct her. “It’s been in the family since my father came to the valley.”

Sam regaled her with stories about the valley, the town, and the holidays on the ranch. The way he talked about his home, Ann could tell he loved this place. With the majestic mountains and scenery all around them, she could understand why so many, including herself, flocked here. She predicted that number would increase in the future, but with Sam—his love of his home ran deep. Funny, part of why she’d come here was to
escape
the place she called home.

Though she hadn’t met Frankston, and was still perturbed with him for not keeping up his end of their agreement, Ann was glad things turned out the way they had. For some reason, she believed Sam was the right guide for her needs. As Providence would have it, Sam seemed to need her as much as she needed him.

But to make this dream happen, she needed proper clothing and was grateful for his assistance. That he’d offered in the first place surprised her. Now she wasn’t sure why. He proved himself more than capable.

He was a completely different sort of fellow than what she was accustomed to in the city, especially compared to the crowd she spent her time photographing for the magazine. Especially compared to Tom. She chafed at the comparison, wishing she could banish the man from her thoughts.

No. Sam was rugged, tough, and manly in a different kind of way. In fact, he was the sort of ruggedly handsome man that movie stars tried to portray in their movies but in person fell far short, or it seemed to Ann, considering those she’d met.

Ann decided she liked Sam. Though he hadn’t seemed too keen on her yesterday, he’d obviously warmed to the idea of assisting her in photographing the region, and the potential fortuitous benefit of their joint venture.

He cleared his throat, drawing Ann’s attention back to the present. They stood in front of Jackson Mercantile and Outfitters.

“You ready?” he asked, gifting her with a smile.

“I am.” She nodded, eager to purchase the supplies for their adventure to see the Tetons in all their grandeur, to take the photographs she needed in order to make all this trouble worthwhile.

Her only regret was that she hoped to be gone before the snow that would coat the scenery in white icing, something utterly photographical. With her father due back in late October, no, she had to be home before then. But maybe her pictures would be enough to convince her father to grant her another chance. Possibly spend a few wintry months here. For the sake of the magazine, of course.

“After you, then.” Sam gestured for her to enter the premises ahead of him.

Ann stepped through the door he held for her, sucking in a quick breath. She’d fully expected shopping in the “last of the Wild West” to be different than the fashions she’d find in the haute couture shops of Manhattan, of which she was somewhat familiar, considering her father’s magazine thrived on featuring the lifestyles of movie stars and the upper class. She’d seen plenty of photographs of western-clad cowboys, especially in the dude-ranch brochures, but standing in the store in person sent a rush through her.

She was really going to do this. Squeezing her hands together, she lifted them to her mouth in glee but then realized Sam eyed her curiously.

“I’m sorry, I must look like a silly schoolgirl to you.” She seasoned her words with a smile.

“Not at all,” he said, but she wasn’t sure she believed him, the way his measuring eyes took her in.

She’d love to know what he was thinking. “Well, Sam, what shall I wear on our excursions into the wilderness?”

Sam’s tanned complexion deepened, and he tugged at his collar.

Had she embarrassed the man? She stifled a giggle, or else he would think her a silly city girl, after all.

“I’ll have a word with Leonard, who runs the place.” Sam leaned in. “I’ll instruct him you’re not wearing any of that diamond-pointed ornamental western wear you see around town in all the purples and oranges. Just regular work clothes will do.”

Sam scratched his jaw. “I’d suggest breeches as opposed to a divided skirt for riding. Are you up for that?”

“I’ll wear whatever you think most appropriate.”

“We’re in autumn now. Don’t expect the first snow for another month, if that, but you’ll need some winter clothes, too, just in case. You never know in the mountains when the weather will turn, or if it’ll snow.”

“I never doubted that.”

He hesitated.

“Is there something else?” she prodded.

“I’m assuming, since you came all this way wanting someone to take you into the wilds of the Tetons, that you can ride a horse. But I might have assumed wrong.” He cocked his brow, looking for some weakness in their plans, it seemed.

She patted his arm. “Rest assured, Sam, I’m an experienced rider, though not in rugged terrain like this.” In the English style of riding, but no matter. “I trust you to lead me there and back.”

That answer appeared to satisfy Sam. He nodded before calling the proprietor—Leonard, was it?—over for assistance.

Sam clapped the man on the back, obviously familiar with him. “Leonard, I’d like to introduce you to Ann Kirkland from New York City.”

“How-do, Miss Kirkland from New York City. Pleased to meet you.” Leonard thrust out his hand. “What can I do you fer?”

Funny to think anyone still talked like that, but it was in keeping with the western atmosphere, Ann reminded herself.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Sam rested his hand on her shoulder. She instinctively knew he wanted her silence on the matter. Ann bit back her words, though she’d wanted to speak her mind. This was the twentieth century, after all.

“I’ll be guiding Miss Kirkland through the backcountry. I need you to set her up, according to her budget, with the appropriate breeches, shirts, hats, belts, all manner of gear, everything you’d supply to a man going hunting.”

Sam’s words didn’t faze Leonard. “Right this way, miss.”

Leonard moved through the store and Ann followed, pursing her lips.

Displeasure rumbled through her chest that Sam had left off the specific purpose of their outdoors adventure. She fought the need to blurt out she would be photographing the region for a magazine, not hunting—why, oh why, did that bother Sam? Or did she have it all wrong, his omission a simple oversight? Nevertheless, she had the distinct impression that he would prefer it if she were actually going on a hunting trip. If she were actually a man, and that way he could prove to his father he should continue outfitting and guiding, rather than playing the part of just another ranch hand on his father’s spread. On that count, she wasn’t sure she could blame him. She was on a similar mission herself.

But what did Ann care if Sam appreciated her photography or not? She was paying him to do a job. If only her disappointment didn’t rankle so.

S
am sat astride his spunky palomino, Ace, and watched Ann atop Gracie, a gentle brown mare, as she stared across the Snake River, the Tetons looming majestic, distinct peaks pointing to the sky.

“I see snow up there.”

“Could have snowed in the summer, but likely it’s just old snow from previous winters that never melted, or a glacier. You can get a good close look at the middle peak glacier from one of the mountain trails.”

He wasn’t sure he’d be able to take her there, but he’d take things slowly. Gauge her abilities before he took her out into the Wyoming wilderness. Today he’d brought her to the Snake River that flowed from Jackson Lake through the valley on its journey west, where it would empty into the Columbia River.

“I might not be here to greet the winter snow, but I certainly came at the right time. The colors are beautiful.”

Cottonwoods grew up and down the riverbank, and aspen peppered the hillsides. Leaves were already turning brilliant gold and orange. Add to that the evergreens, making the forest and mountain range look like a canvas that God Himself had painted.

The autumn colors never failed to fill Sam with awe, the same awe he now saw on Ann’s face. He smiled to himself. The sun had brought just enough color to her cheeks that his gaze lingered on Ann longer than he had a right. Dressed in the clothes more fitting for their endeavor, thanks to their shopping excursion, Ann’s appearance had transformed.

What surprised him was that he couldn’t decide which Ann he liked better—he actually missed seeing her in her pretty dress. But maybe he’d get that chance again. Besides, she’d hired him to do a job. He had no business thinking about how he liked the way she looked in her dresses or in her shirt and breeches. No business whatsoever.

Her long sigh drifted to him on the cool breeze. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I have a collection of photographs of the Tetons back home taken by a local resident, Hank Crandall. Ever hear of him?” she asked.

“A course. Everyone knows him. Takes photographs of the dudes in their drugstore cowboy clown suits, too,” he said. “Makes a good living that way.”

There’d been plenty of photographers come to capture the beauty; Ann wouldn’t be the first. But he’d keep that to himself. Likely, she knew already.

“But those photographs could never do these peaks justice,” she said. “I could sit here all day and look at the mountains.”

Sam thought he could sit here all day, too, but Ann had drawn his attention from the lofty peaks before them. He forced his thoughts to the business at hand.

“Best get over that because if I guide you to unseen territory, it’s going to take time to get there and back.” He figured they’d need to prepare for a longer packing trip at some point, as well. Places that would tickle her photographer fancy. Places that even other photographers hadn’t seen. But there was no getting in and out in one day.

In fact, the possibilities were endless. She could stay a year and never see everything worth seeing. But she had a month, and that was it. Planned to leave before it started snowing, she’d said.