by Jane Porter
Sam didn’t know if he reached for her, or she moved first, but suddenly Ivy was in his arms, and he was hugging her close, holding her as if he’d never let go.
It felt impossibly good to have her in his arms. She was tall and slim and despite the heavy winter coats, fit against him perfectly, her cheek just beneath his shoulder.
“I’m scared, Sam,” she whispered. “Scared that you’ll get in trouble and I’ll be left to deal with him—”
“Not going to do that to you, Ivy,” he interrupted gruffly. “I won’t be stupid. I promise not to do anything that would make your situation worse.” He stepped back and tipped her face up so he could see her eyes. “We’ll outsmart him. Outmaneuver him. It’s going to be alright.”
She smiled unsteadily, expression still anxious. “I almost feel like I can breathe again.”
“What scares you the most about him? That he’ll hit you, hurt you, what?”
“It’s just the way he talks to me. Like I’m… stupid.” Her voice dropped, and her smile faded. “Like I’m… worthless.”
“So, why did you stay with him?”
“I didn’t even realize what was happening until I’d lost confidence in me, and my ability to make good decisions. Just falling for him was such a bad decision. I still don’t understand how I couldn’t see who he was. That I couldn’t see how snaky and manipulative he was. That I couldn’t see the truth.” She swallowed hard. “And once I did understand, he’d taken over so much of my career that I was trapped.”
Sam pushed another tendril away from her face, this one having tangled on her lashes. He was still raging on the inside, his pulse was thudding hard and heavy in his veins. He really wanted to destroy Wes. He was itching to do some damage. “Do you have a plan, Ivy, or should I come up with one?”
“To be honest, I don’t have a plan yet. I have so many questions—like, where is my money, and what has he done with all the sponsorship money and the income from Mom’s place—but then just thinking about facing him makes me want to throw up. Because here’s how it will go when I do see him. He’ll act nice. He’ll express concern for me, and surprise that I wasn’t happy. And then the moment he gets me alone, he’ll flip, and begin going at me, saying that I’m stupid and worthless and nothing without him—”
“I am going to kill him. I will—”
“Sam, you can’t do that. I need you.” Her voice cracked and her eyes welled with tears. “Please.”
“Not leaving you, and probably not going to actually kill him—”
“No wounding or badly bruising, either.”
“So light bruising works?”
Ivy brushed her tears away and laughed. “I’m not going to answer that.”
“So you’re giving me permission to—”
“Let’s get some hot chocolate,” she said. “Talk about something else. This conversation is worrying.”
“That’s your plan?” he asked incredulously. “Change the subject? Order hot chocolate?”
“I don’t know that we’re going to have all the answers now. A lot will depend on when Wes arrives.”
“Listen, babe, I know you hate conflict, but Wes could be here in Marietta right now for all we know.”
Her crooked smile faded. “You think so?”
“I don’t know and that’s the point. We don’t know when he’ll be here, and we have to be prepared. Are you?”
She looked up into his eyes, her gaze searching. “I’m more prepared now that I told you about my situation. I feel a lot safer already. You make me feel safe.”
“Because you are safe with me,” he said gruffly.
“I know.” She hesitated. “And I’m grateful, I am.”
“You don’t need to be grateful. You’re important to me.”
“As you are to me.” She drew a slow breath. “Can I make a confession?”
“Yes.”
“I think one of the reasons I took the job at the Kruse ranch was that I felt safer here in Paradise Valley than anywhere else. I knew your family was close. I knew in the back of my mind I could reach out to Joe if things got really bad.” She searched his expression. “I’m sorry, but at the same time, not sorry because I’d run out of options.”
“Wes is wrong. You’re not stupid. You’re very smart and strategic. Coming here was the right thing to do. Wes might try to dominate you when you’re in his world, but this isn’t his world, and he doesn’t belong here.” Sam reached out, hooked a finger around her belt buckle and pulled her toward him. “You, though, belong here. You’re a Montana girl, through and through. Now let’s celebrate smart decision-making with a hot chocolate.”
“Only if it’s my treat.”
“Then I’m ordering a large with extra whipped cream.”
As they headed back down Main Street, Ivy tucked her hand through the crook of his arm and Sam’s chest tightened. Again, he thought of the promise he made Shelby, a promise he’d honored in only the most technical sort of way. “What will you do when Wes shows up?”
“Besides call you?”
He huffed a soft laugh. “Yes.”
She chewed on her lip. “Will I need to do anything else? He won’t bother me, not if you’re around.”
“You sound awfully confident about that.”
“I am. Let’s face it, he’s not going to want to take you on, much less you and your brothers, and everyone knows you’re a package deal. Fight one, fight all.”
Sam smiled ruefully. She wasn’t wrong. “We don’t do that much fighting.”
Ivy squeezed his arm. “Come on, Sam, you didn’t get the name Slugger for playing baseball.”
*
Standing on the sidewalk in front of Copper Mountain Chocolates, with her large cup of hot chocolate topped with extra whipped cream, Ivy felt better than she had in a very long time. Her problems weren’t solved. Her fear was still there. The year and a half of being in an abusive relationship had damaged her self-esteem. She’d damaged her self-esteem by remaining in such a relationship, but there was light at the end of the tunnel.
Hope.
On one hand, nothing had truly changed and yet, at the same time, everything had changed.
She wouldn’t have to deal with Wes on her own anymore. She had a friend, an ally, in Sam, and there was no one better to have in your corner than Sam Wyatt.
She glanced up at him, and her heart did that funny little double beat it always did when he was near. He might not be the most extroverted Wyatt, but he was solid. Strong. Tough. Honest. Loyal. As long as she’d known him, he’d done the right thing, even when it wasn’t the popular thing. She knew without a doubt, she’d be safe now, and that was such a relief she felt lighter. Almost dizzy. It was as if Christmas had come early.
“You have whipped cream right there,” he said, gesturing to her upper lip.
She swiped the corner of her upper lip with her tongue.
“You missed it,” he said.
“Maybe you should help me,” she said, lifting her face.
His blue gaze met hers and then dropped to her mouth. “Maybe I should,” he answered, before his head dropped and he covered her mouth with his.
His lips were cool, and yet warm, and he kissed her with just enough pressure to make every nerve ending in her body come to life. “Wow,” she whispered when he finally lifted his head. “I think you got it.”
His eyes glowed down at her, eyes warm. “I don’t think you can order any more hot chocolate. Makes you taste too sweet.”
“You’ll just have to have self-control, Sam, because I fully intend on having hot chocolate every day now.”
His mouth quirked. “I forgot how much you like trouble.”
She started to smile but then the smile faded as she thought of Wes. No, she didn’t like trouble. Real trouble wasn’t fun. “I think we do need a plan,” she said quietly. “I don’t think I’m prepared for Wes. Whenever I think of him, I just get sick and scared.”
“I’ve been thinking about
this, too, and I want to move you up to the ranch. It’s the best place for you. From what you’ve said, your landlady isn’t going to protect you, and you walking to and from work is just asking for trouble. But Wes won’t come up to the ranch. He won’t come anywhere near the ranch.” Sam glanced at his watch. “We still have an hour and fifteen minutes before you start work. That’s plenty of time to get you packed up and out of Joan’s house. I think we should do it right now.”
“And then what?”
“We’ll pack you now, I’ll drop you off at the bar, drive your things to the ranch, and be back to pick you up after work.”
“That’s a lot of driving back and forth, Sam. I don’t want to make you my chauffeur. Why don’t we wait until my truck is ready—”
“Even if your truck was ready, I’d still drive you. I’m not going to give Wes any opportunities to corner you, or get you alone. I don’t trust him, and I know you don’t trust him, and you’re safer if we keep close tabs on you.”
“We?” she asked.
“Joe, me, Billy, Tommy. And don’t act surprised. You know how my brothers feel about you. Besides, this is Paradise Valley, Montana. Our state, our home. Wes isn’t welcome here.”
“You’re sure your mom would be okay with this?”
“Yes. More than fine when I mentioned it to her.”
“You already talked to her about it?”
“Of course. It is her house.”
“And your grandad?”
“If he had his way, you’d already be there now.”
Ivy smiled faintly. She had a big soft spot for Melvin Wyatt, one of the best men she’d ever known. He wasn’t overly friendly, or overly talkative, but he was the essence of integrity. His word was his word, and if he said he’d do something, he absolutely followed through. “I could protest about there not being enough space for me,” she said, “but honestly, it’d be a relief to know Wes isn’t going to break through my window at night, or bribe Joan into letting him wait for me in my bedroom.”
“You think he’d do those things?”
“I think he’s upset that I got away. He was sure he had me in line.” Ivy shuddered, because just thinking about the past, and Wes, made her nauseous. “Let’s do it. Let’s move me out of Joan’s. It shouldn’t take me a long time to pack. Especially not if you’re willing to help load up the truck.”
It was a short drive to the house on Chance Avenue, and inside the house, Ivy swiftly began emptying her drawers and taking everything from the closet and dumping them into the large suitcase she’d slid under the bed before pulling her hatboxes from the top shelf of the closet, and putting her boots and shoes into a duffel bag.
Joan stood in the doorway of the bedroom watching, making commentary between sips of whiskey. “Don’t think I’m going to refund any of the rent you’ve paid,” she said.
“I’m not asking you for anything.”
“And you owe me for January since you haven’t given me a thirty-day notice.”
Ivy paused, looked up from the duffel bag. “I’m giving my thirty-day notice.”
“And the money?”
“You’ll get it.”
“Now?”
“No, January 1st, when I’d normally pay you.”
“How do I know you’ll come back and pay?”
Ivy sighed, exasperated. “You know where I work, Joan. It’s walking distance from here. If you don’t get your money, you can track me down there.”
Sam returned from his last trip to the truck and while he didn’t push Joan from the doorway, he definitely got close, and Joan finally, reluctantly stepped back.
“Is that everything?” he asked Ivy, nodding at the duffel.
“Need to strip the bed and then I’ll check the bathroom,” she said, zipping the duffel.
“I’ll do the bed,” he answered. “You do the bathroom.”
Joan wandered away then, and it wasn’t long before the truck was fully packed, and Ivy’s small bedroom empty.
In the truck Sam looked at Ivy. “Work now?”
She nodded.
“I’ll be back for you tonight,” he said, shifting into drive. “And if anything comes up, call me.”
She nodded, knowing exactly what he meant by, if anything comes up. Anything in this case being Wes.
Later at work, during a moment of down time, Ivy shared with Pia that there was someone from her past trying to find her, and he wasn’t someone Ivy wanted in her life. “His name is Wes,” Ivy said. “He’s a good-looking guy, and he will come across as very polite, but he’s not someone I’m comfortable having around.”
“I’ve dated someone like that,” Pia said somberly. “He became a menace when I tried to break up.”
“Yep. Same situation,” Ivy answered. “Just wanted you to be aware.”
“I’ll definitely keep an eye out,” Pia said. “We Wolf Den girls got to stick together.”
The rest of the day was uneventful, and Sam was back at midnight to pick her up. The bar had just a few people in it when he arrived and she still had an hour before closing.
“You’re early,” she said as he took a barstool at the counter.
He eased his heavy coat off. “Everyone at the house has gone to bed. Figured I might as well wait here.”
Her lips twitched, knowing he was someone who liked to go to bed early. “Hard to stay awake this late?”
“I took a nap earlier. I’m good.”
“So where am I sleeping tonight?”
“Joe’s room.”
“Where is Joe sleeping?”
“He and Sophie built their own place this year. It’s a custom log cabin just down the road from the house.”
“I met her, you know. Sophie came by the bar a few days ago and introduced herself.”
Sam looked surprised. “I didn’t know that.”
“She thought I could use a friend. Suggested we get lunch and gave me her phone number, just in case.”
“Sophie’s great. I wasn’t sure what I’d think of her because of how they met, but she’s good for Joe, and makes him really happy.”
“How did they meet?”
Sam’s brow creased and he looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Through an ad.”
“An ad? What kind of ad?”
“Joe placed one looking for a wife.”
For a second, she didn’t know how to respond and then she spluttered on an incredulous laugh. “You’re kidding me. Why? Joe’s good-looking and smart and kind. Why would he need to place an ad like that, much less for a wife?”
Sam shrugged. “He was done with romance and dating. He didn’t believe in love, or want to fall in love. It was a practical thing for him. So he did what he thought was the most expedient way of finding a partner who could help on the ranch and take care of the domestic side of things.”
“Sophie answered that ad?” Ivy couldn’t believe it. Sophie was gorgeous and warm and funny and not at all the kind of woman who needed to answer an ad.
“Yeah, but the practical part seemed to disappear and they both fell head over heels in love. Joe is crazy about her, and she spoils him rotten. They’re ridiculously happy, and that makes all of us happy.”
“Your mom likes her, too?”
“Mom wasn’t a fan, not in the beginning, but Sophie won her over as well.”
“Your mom is a tough nut to crack.”
“Yeah, but she always liked you. She was a lot harder on Sophie.”
“How is your mom?”
“Moving a lot more slowly than she used to. She’s in a lot of pain, and you’ll see that at home she uses a walker or a cane. But if we leave the ranch, we take a wheelchair with us, just to make it easier on her. She hates the wheelchair, though, and the only time she’ll agree to use it is when we go to brunch at the Graff.”
“Wait. What? Brunch?”
His cheekbones turned ruddy. “It’s a Sophie thing.”
“You go to brunch?”
“Only when home. But G
randad, Mom, Sophie, and Joe go once a month. They pile into the truck and head to the Graff. Makes me laugh, because we’re not the champagne brunch kind of family, but I do think it’s good for Mom to have her outings. Sophie’s been good for her. They’ll bake together—well, Sophie does the work and Mom directs—and it’s the same thing when it’s time to organize a big family meal.”
“When you have such a great family, why would you want to live so far away from them?”
He shifted on the stool, broad shoulders squaring. “It’s not as if they won’t be my family once I have my own place.”
“But your mom and grandfather won’t be around forever. Why move away now?”
“Joe has inherited the Wyatt Ranch—”
“I bet he’d be more than happy to share it with you. In fact, I bet he’s thinking he already shares it with you and Billy and Tommy. Have you ever discussed this with him?”
“Sophie and Joe need their own life just as much as I need mine. If they want to include Billy and Tommy, great, but I want my own place. I want to create my own history and my own traditions, and that doesn’t make me a bad guy.”
“I’ve never thought of you as a bad guy—”
“Just selfish,” he interrupted.
She blushed and compressed her lips, because yes, she did used to think of him that way, but maybe Sam wasn’t selfish as much as independent and stubborn. But then, she was independent and stubborn, too. Maybe that was why she and Sam used to butt heads. Maybe they both had a hard time compromising.
*
It was a quiet drive out of Marietta, heading south on the 89 toward Yellowstone. The moon was full and the landscape covered in white. Ivy was thankful there wasn’t much conversation. It had been a long day and she was exhausted. She was glad Sam didn’t try to force conversation, either. Sometimes silence was best.
Flattened, she tipped her head back against the seat, closed her eyes, and just gave herself over to the hum of the truck tires on the road. It felt good to be a passenger for a moment, felt good to just let go and stop fighting, worrying, stop feeling as if she had to keep it all together. Obviously, she’d failed at both, but maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to fail, because now everything was in the open—at least, everything to do with Wes. Things had gotten out of hand with him, and she’d been troubled for far too long. Boyfriends and husbands weren’t supposed to be dangerous. They were supposed to be the ones that kept you safe.
