Last Chance Llama Ranch (35 page)

“And when you saw me, I reminded you of her?”
Confident? Glamorous?
Was he kidding?

Sam lay back down. “Yeah.”

“Oh, Sam.” Her shoulders started to shake. Little choking sounds escaped her chest.

“Shit.” Sam sounded alarmed. “I'm sorry, Merry. I didn't mean to make you cry.”

A wild cackle escaped Merry's lips. She was laughing so hard she could barely speak. “Samuel Cassidy, you have to be the biggest idiot I've ever met in my life.”

“I do?” He reared back, but the cold outside their bower prohibited much distance.

“If you think I give a shit about being ‘glamorous,' or moving in high society, you've obviously had your head up a llama's butt. I've spent my entire life running
from
exactly that sort of shit. You think
you
were a social misfit? Try being six foot three with shoulders like a linebacker when you're the daughter of a diplomat and a fucking
peer of the realm
. The only place
I
ever felt like I fit in was on a podium with the national anthem playing. And then that ended.” Merry's voice grew tight. “But when I got to the Last Chance…it just seemed like a place I could go and not have to worry about all that.”

Sam was silent for a while. “And I made you feel unwelcome. Hell, I'm sorry, Merry. I think I can see that now. You're not like my wife was. I mean, not that you're not poised, or confident, but that you're…I don't know…genuine. Unpretentious. You weren't trying to use us, or the ranch. I should've seen that when I read your stories. But all I could think was that you were making fun of me.”

“
Fun of you?
After the way I made you out to be such a romance novel hero?”

“
Because
of that. I know I'm no prize to look at.”

“You're not so bad,” Merry said grudgingly. “If one likes the Pa Ingalls look.”

Sam chuckled.

God, it would be so nice to revel in this moment. To feel this kindness, this acceptance from Sam. But he didn't know everything. And when he did…his earlier anger would be nothing to what he would feel. “Before you get too warm and fuzzy, you need to know, you weren't wrong. I
was
oblivious. And self-absorbed. I didn't think enough about the effect my column would have on the kids, or the rest of Aguas Milagros. And it's worse than a little camping gear.” Merry started to tell him about John Dixon's arrival, his ultimatum.

Sam put his hand on her shoulder. “I already know, Merry. I ran into my aunt in town, and she told me all about it on our way back to the ranch.”

So why isn't he tossing my ass out into the snow?

“She
also
told me how hard you've been working to make things right. How you offered to buy the ranch with your own money, even though it would mean making yourself miserable.”

“It was the least I could do,” Merry said. “I had to take responsibility.”

Sam let silence settle over them for a while. “You couldn't have predicted what my uncle would do. He's been a thorn in Dolly's butt for the better part of two decades, one way or another.”

“Still…”

“Hush, Merry.”

Merry hushed. She liked that he wasn't calling her Wookiee anymore.

Sam's hand was in her hair again, she noticed, gently smoothing it away from her neck. “You know, while you're going begging for blame, there
is
something else you're responsible for.” He pressed closer, making it clear what he was talking about. The “branch” felt more like a tree trunk now, rubbing up against her ass.

“I am
not
responsible for that!” Merry protested. But somehow, she wasn't pulling away like some outraged virgin. In fact…her ass seemed to be doing some rubbing of its own.

Sam sucked in a breath, then let it out slowly. “Oh, it's definitely on you, Merry,” he said.

On me? How about
in
me?
The thought set her pulse thrumming. Merry bit her lip. “Purely a physiological thing, I'm sure. Just a natural biological response to the circumstance?”

“Of course.” There was a smile in Sam's voice. “I'm a guy who's close to nature, and this is my ‘natural biological response' when I'm lying beside a beautiful woman.”

Ice doused Merry's desire.

Suddenly she was colder than she'd been before Sam had come to rescue her from the storm.
Just when I thought we were friends…and maybe
more
than friends…
How could he be such a snake? Merry flipped over to face him. “
Fuck
you, Sam Cassidy,” she said fiercely. “I knew you could be a dick sometimes, but that was just plain cruel.”

Even in the dim light of the little campfire she could make out his bewildered expression. “
Cruel?
The hell did I say?”

She glared at him. “Look, you didn't like it when I made you out to be all gorgeous for the magazine? Fine. No problem. No more Studly Sam in the column. But I'd appreciate it if you'd do me the same courtesy and not blow smoke up my ass. I know I'm not beautiful. Not now…not before the accident. Not
ever
. If you're trying to get back at me by mocking me—”

“I'm not mocking you, Merry,” he said.

And then he kissed her.

This time, it was no accident.

S
orry to disappoint you, ladies and germs, but Sam was a perfect gentleman. While the storm raged outside, and my hormones raged inside, our mountain man kept Mama, cria, and Merry warm and toasty inside the old mine shaft where we'd sheltered from the storm. Beneath a blanket of boughs and outerwear, we passed the night in pleasant conversation while Dashiell nursed her sweater-draped offspring and hummed counterpoint to the swirling snow blowing past the mouth of the cave.

I have to say that I've rarely felt safer, or, frankly, as comfortable as I did that night in the abandoned mine. Without the comforts of electricity, running water, or even a mattress, we yet managed to pass a productive and informative evening, chatting about everything from survival strategies to favorite childhood TV shows (mine was
Twin Peaks
, while Sam preferred
The X-Files
). I learned that our Mr. Cassidy is passionate about a great many things, when you take the time to get to know him, and he's generous with his time, his expertise, and, of course, his body heat.

Merry had to smile. Sam had been generous alright…with his lips, his tongue, the caress of his callused hands. From the moment he'd captured her mouth with his passionate kiss, Sam had taken full control, and she'd never for a moment felt her superior height. In his arms, she'd been all woman, and he'd been all man—a hot, muscular presence thrumming with desire, hands tangling in her hair to hold her still for his kisses, body sliding over hers to enfold her in his embrace.

Making out with Sam was hot as hell, Merry had discovered. It was also
fun
. His kisses had been mischievous and mind-blowing by turns, his lips capturing and cajoling hers into an ever-deepening response, his teeth nipping gently at her bottom lip, then soothing the sting with his tongue and smiling lips. His hands had cupped her face, his elbows braced on either side of her head so that he became her whole world, her focus entirely on the superheated maleness of him. And yet there was something about the encounter that had been about more than passion—it was an invitation to play, to explore, and simply enjoy each other in the moment.

Because that was the essence of Sam, Merry realized. When he wasn't keeping tight wraps on his past, or protecting the little corner of the world he'd come to call home, Sam was a man with a great love of everything life had to offer; someone who was fully in his body and deeply engaged with his surroundings. And his passion last night had made Merry yearn for a taste of that courage, just as she'd yearned for the taste of him. Since the accident, she'd lost sight of her own passionate, spirited side—the side that had been fearless on the slopes.

Now Merry wanted to be fearless with Sam.

But Sam had wanted to be a gentleman.

“Go slow, honey,” he'd said, though she could feel his heart racing where it was pressed up against her chest. “Slow…slow…” he'd murmured over and over as he kissed her deep, kissed her slow like he promised, kissed her
everywhere
.

She wasn't quite sure why they'd stopped when they had—the lack of protection had certainly factored in, but Merry had also sensed a hesitation in Sam that was more about wanting to do things right than wanting to avoid unintended consequences. At first she'd been stung when he'd pulled his lips away, his body held tense above hers, but the undeniable evidence of his desire for her and his labored breathing against her neck had told her it was no easier for him to stop than it had been for her to find her desires thwarted.

It had been a long night.

Even remembering it made Merry squirm…in the best possible way. She sipped her latte, which Bob had decorated with a simple but rather cheeky heart, a Cupid's arrow piercing it.

“How do you always know?” she asked Bob, who had a huge platter of nachos in one hand and a beatific smile on his face.

“I'm good like that,” he said. He slid the piping hot plate down in front of Merry, narrowly avoiding her laptop. The smell made Merry's mouth water. She'd already been feted with Dolly's best breakfast efforts upon returning from their adventure this morning—Dolly had been overjoyed to see them safe—but she found she was a bottomless pit today. She and Sam had worked up quite an appetite…

“Share these with me?” Merry invited.

“Sure.”

They crunched chips and savored spicy jalapeños in companionable silence for a while. “So how's it going, Lady Hobbit?” Bob asked at last. “Any news?”

Merry's face turned pink.

“About the Kickstarter campaign, I mean.”

“Right! Of course.” Merry pecked at her keyboard for a minute or so, squinting at her site stats and following the link to the crowd-funding site. “We're doing respectably, but we're nowhere close enough,” she reported glumly. “If only we had more time…I really think we could have made it. As it is…I don't see a way.”

“I'm sure your story about last night's adventures will help,” said Bob. “The pictures you posted of little Bill were out of sight. Sounds like quite the tale.”

A tale I have no intention of sharing in full
, Merry thought. What had happened was for her to savor. And Sam too, she hoped. They'd fallen at last into an exhausted sleep—at least Merry had, though she suspected Sam had lain awake after she'd passed out, watching over them. At dawn he'd gotten them all up, checked to see that mother and baby were still thriving, then wrapped Merry in his coat again, along with every other item of clothing he could spare. The sun had come out, and the snow had been sparkling like a field of diamonds, already starting to melt as the temperature climbed. Merry had been almost sorry to say good-bye to their little haven, but she knew Dolly must be frantic. She herself was rather desperate for a hot shower…and some time to think.

Sam had been quiet too, hard to read in the light of day, and Merry hadn't pressed. He'd picked up baby Bill in his arms, and led them all back to the ranch, breaking trail without even breaking a sweat. At Dolly's door he'd refused her offer of his coat back, ignoring her protests. “You'll need it,” he'd said, “if you're gonna stick around awhile.” Then he'd traced one hand down her jaw, tucking a strand of her hair back under her ridiculous hat. “You
are
going to stick around awhile, aren't you?”

“If I'm wanted,” she said simply.

“Oh, you're wanted.” His blue eyes had burned into her. “I'll see you later, Merry Manning.”

Standing there in Dolly's doorway, clad in mismatched knitwear and a coat she could have wrapped around herself twice, dirty and disheveled in a way that would have given her mother fits, Merry had known she must look a fright. Yet in his eyes…she had felt anything but. “Later,” he'd said, and somehow Merry knew it was a promise. A promise she was looking forward to him keeping.

“Banana Hammock! Banana Hammock!”

Bob eyed Merry's phone in mild alarm. “Your device appears to be having an identity crisis,” he remarked. It was jumping and jolting all over his Formica-topped table.

“That's my brother,” Merry said. “Or his text message tone, anyhow.” She picked up the phone and checked the screen, glad of the distraction from her heated thoughts about Sam.

How's tricks in llama town, Sis? Gotta say, I'm a bit disappointed in our boy Sam there. Doesn't he know what a sweet piece of ass you are? I'll be sure to tell him how overrated gentlemanly behavior is when I see him.

Ha.
That
day would never come. The thought of Marcus descending on Aguas Milagros was so incongruous it made Merry snicker. But that reminded her…she hadn't heard from her parents in a suspiciously long time. She knew she'd have to deal with them soon enough, but she was more than happy to let that one slide while she faced the far more immediate—and important—crisis facing Dolly's ranch. If G&P were letting her off the Thanksgiving Day hook, Merry wasn't about to quibble.

Don't you dare
, she typed.
I've got enough going on around here without “Manning Meddling” to add to it. Thanks for keeping the 'rents off my back, by the way. I assume that was your doing.

Ass. U. Me
, typed her brother. There was a pause.
Oops, speaking of asses, my spectacular buns are due on set in a sec. Got a shoot for Armani Privé and my privies are anything but private in it. Just wanted to tell ya I love ya while I had a minute, Squatchy. I'm proud of you too. So are Mom and Dad, if you can believe it.

I *can't* believe it
, Merry typed back, but her brother had already moved on.

Which is what we're all going to have to do
, she thought with a pang.
Unless I can save the Last Chance
.

“What will happen to Aguas Milagros if I can't save the ranch?” Merry said to Bob, who was crunching meditatively on the last of the nacho chips.

“Why don't you ask the mayor?”

Merry followed Bob's gaze to the gentleman entering the café.