Vehicles cluttered the downtown. As she rolled past, Samantha was astonished at the number of cars. Attendance had risen significantly since the first party. She had to drive nearly to the end of town to find a space.
Music blasted from the rec hall. In the nearly empty street, Samantha's body began swaying to a hard-rocking number.
Cheerfully navigating the rough walkway, Samantha recalled her first visit, when she’d scoffed at the ramshackle buildings. She’d had no idea how the dining hall quaked with laughter during meals. Or that the general store offered something you couldn't find anywhere else: postcards with I Found Hidden Hot Springs printed over a faded photograph of a girl in an antique bathing suit. Genuine reprinted memorabilia.
Nothing fancy here, just good-hearted people. It was the kind of place she'd never known existed outside old movies.
The song ended, followed by silence. Samantha could picture the men arguing over what to play next. Despite frequent disagreements, they always got things done.
She had nearly reached the rec hall when a tall figure emerged, silhouetted by the light from the doorway. The man paused on the steps as if lost in thought.
Samantha knew every inch of that powerful frame, intimately. Even before he heard her footsteps and swung around, she recognized the tilt of his head, the involuntary flexing of his shoulder muscles and the clean line of his tailored jacket swinging over slim, jean-clad hips.
"Didn't think you'd make it," said her husband.
With his gaze raking her body, she became keenly aware of the frothy skirt shifting around her thighs. Abruptly, she changed course, striding into the middle of the street. "I challenge you to a duel," she announced.
Kieran cocked an eyebrow. "What kind of duel?"
Inside, a decision had been reached. Music poured forth once more. In a change of pace, Frank Sinatra crooned the lilting standard, "Strangers in the Night."
“A dance-off,” Samantha challenged.
“How do we determine the winner?”
“Last person standing, and no cheating. We just dance. Hard.”
Kieran's mouth crooked in an unwilling smile. "How can I refuse a dare like that?"
If I win…I get to keep you. She didn’t dare say that aloud. Fortunately, he hadn’t inquired as to the prize.
He strolled out to meet her. His arm encircled her waist while his free hand caught hers. She rested the other hand on his shoulder.
Before she was ready, Kieran twirled her around. Samantha stumbled, but regained her balance. "I'll be ready for you next time."
"I'm ready for you now," he murmured.
Her body heated. This wasn't supposed to be foreplay; it was a contest of wills, right out in public. No compromise and no retreat.
Kieran struck again, dominating her with a series of swirling steps that Samantha could barely match. Her shoes put her at a disadvantage, but at least they elevated her to his shoulder.
Quickly, she found the rhythm, as if her body had simply needed a warm-up. Her legs became fluid, her hips quick to swivel, her senses attuned to Kieran's movements. She was able to predict which way he would turn next, and to follow so closely that she might almost have been leading.
The air between them crackled with longing. Like steam rising from the hot springs, the music curled around them.
Then Kieran seized her waist and lifted her to his shoulders. Samantha willed herself to relax as he twirled her around his neck in an acrobatic lift. A fizzy lightness invaded her bloodstream, and her knees threatened to buckle when he slid her down along his body.
I won’t lose. I won’t.
As they finished the waltz, Samantha melted into Kieran, no longer consciously aware of his physical signals but simply a part of him as they covered the width of the street. They had never been closer than this, and yet, she reflected wildly, they had never been farther apart.
When the music faded, Kieran stood motionless, holding her, lost in the world they had created together. The spell lasted until the music resumed with a series of thumps and shakes.
"I hate electronic crap," Kieran grumbled.
"So who won?" she asked.
"We both did.”
“They don’t give two gold medals in the Olympics. There’s always a winner.”
“I guess this calls for a rematch," he said.
"Ready when you are."
They staged the rematch as soon as they reached home. It filled the bedroom with the kind of music only two people could hear.
*
Kieran was just shaking off the sleep the next morning when Samantha headed out, fully dressed, to breakfast. She'd put on a red, white and blue outfit with green socks, presumably to match the colors of the festival.
In response to his call that he'd see her later, she replied, "Count on it." As if they were casual friends. Or a husband and wife who could expect a thousand such mornings, and didn't need to make the most of this one. To be fair, though, perhaps mornings-after were as awkward for Samantha as for him.
He checked his phone. No message from Baird. Damn the man!
Kieran dressed and went out. He could spend the morning fuming or he could enjoy what might be the last big celebration this community would have.
Outside, he went by the construction site. The buildings were rapidly taking on finished form; in the past two weeks, he could see a dramatic change. Hidden Hot Springs had existed for five years in his mind's eye, but only now was it reaching the stage where anyone's eye could see it.
It was hard to believe how many lives had been affected by this project. Kieran wished Uncle Albert were here to share this celebration, however short-lived it might prove.
At the picnic grounds, red, white, blue and green balloons punctuated the sky. Ribbons marked off game areas and a banner proclaimed the greatest cheesecake festival in the world. Beth and Samantha had done an impressive job.
As he reached the road, he saw most of the cars from last night still jamming the parking spaces. He hoped the new guests hadn't been too crowded, camping overnight. They'd been a lively bunch, just what his men needed.
Everything seemed on course. He had to believe the injunction had been denied. He couldn't accept any other possibility.
Besides, if they'd lost, Baird would have been legally obligated to call to prevent Kieran from continuing work on the resort, right? Surely the lawyer wouldn’t risk having his client violate a court order.
Inside the dining hall, he found Lew, Beth, Pete and Samantha sitting with Mack, a few other men and two women Kieran hadn't seen before. They were introduced as Betty and Suzanne.
Digging into a plateful of scrambled eggs and bacon, he let the conversation fly by. With a start, Kieran realized he'd grown used to having women around. Especially one woman.
She looked fresh as a fawn this morning. Samantha’s skin had taken on a bronze glow, and it was hard to picture the seductive pink dress from last night decorating this athletic body. It had been replaced by a white T-shirt tucked into blue shorts, with a red bandanna around her neck. And, of course, green socks.
Pete kept glancing at the door, no doubt eager for Mary Anne to arrive from San Diego. He hoped his friend would work things out with her. It wasn't like Pete to mope.
Still, love did funny things to otherwise rational people.
It wasn't Pete but Mack, however, who jumped up a moment later and announced, "They're here!" As soon as he spoke, Kieran became aware of a motor rumbling and then halting outside the dining hall.
"How can he tell who it is?" asked Beth as the workman and Pete bolted for the door. "Doesn't one car sound like another?"
"Alice's car pings like crazy," Samantha said. "She told me she was waiting until she got a new boyfriend. The number one requirement was that he be good with cars."
"That's cold-blooded," Lew observed. He caught a dubious look from Beth and amended, "There are more important qualities in a relationship, don't you think?"
"I like a man who can
fix things," she answered. "Or build things." She smiled.
"Besides," Samantha pointed out, "people fall in love for all sorts of reasons. Why not for a practical one?"
Like you did? Kieran wondered. But there had been nothing practical about how they’d acted last night. It had been sheer instinct—and joy.
Sure enough, Alice and Mary Anne appeared, with Pete and Mack on their heels. The quartet joined Kieran's table.
Mary Anne kept sneaking peeks at the foreman. After the greetings had abated, Kieran heard her say, "You didn't meet anyone last night?"
"Meet anyone?" Pete queried.
"At the mixer."
"Why would I go to a mixer?" he said. "I was waiting for you."
The wariness vanished from her expression. "Oh," Mary Anne said. That was all, just a small "oh," but her face lit up.
Alice handed Samantha an envelope. "This was the only thing in your mailbox."
The crisp white paper bore the logo of a cruise line. Samantha took it gingerly. “I’m afraid to open it." To the queries of their tablemates, she explained, "It's about a job."
There were a few puzzled glances, but Kieran had explained to Pete, Lew and the other men about his arrangement with Samantha. He didn't like keeping secrets, and, besides, he'd needed to alert them to watch for Hank.
Apparently they didn’t have to worry about Hank any more. According to Samantha, the man was behind bars, and surely he’d stay there, with the trial set to start next week.
With a table knife, she sliced open the enveloper. "Dear Miss Avery," she read aloud, "We're pleased to welcome you…I got the job!"
Congratulations poured in, but to Kieran they sounded subdued. No one else wants her to leave, either.
“When does it start?” Beth asked.
"I have to be in Miami in two weeks," Samantha said. "That's tight, but I’ll manage."
Miami. Two weeks. The finality of it struck Kieran like a thunderclap.
An excited flush rose in Samantha's cheeks. She loved traveling. This job was the right thing for her, and he had to let her go as they'd agreed.
Sometimes he hated being reasonable.
Since the festival didn't start until eleven, people divided into small groups after breakfast. There was a dip-in-the-springs group, a poker-playing group, and a number of twosomes wandering off in search of privacy.
Kieran checked his voice mail again. Still nothing.
He wandered back to his office. As he was considering whether to dig through some old legal files in the faint hope of encountering Laird's home phone number, Samantha popped in.
“I meant to ask," she said. "Heard anything?"
He shook his head. "What are you going to do on the cruise ship, anyway?" Kieran had to change the subject or he'd sweep her into his arms and urge her to stay.
"Guest relations," she said.
"Which involves what, exactly?"
"Meeting and greeting. Problem-solving. Emergency baby-sitting. Handing out discount coupons for drinks and gambling." Samantha tugged up one of her socks. "I wish we'd hear from that lawyer. I wish that stupid detective had come up with something useful."
"Let's not mention him again, shall we?" Kieran half wished he'd gone along with hiring the man. He shouldn’t have been so hard on Samantha for pursuing a good idea. The problem was, he'd put his faith in Joel, but after Baird's negligence in reporting to them, Kieran was questioning his friend's judgment.
Well, it was too late to change matters now. And outside, people were laughing and calling to each other.
"Let's go have fun," Kieran said.
Samantha hesitated. "You sure you’re in the mood?”
"I changed my mind. Let's go be miserable."
She laughed. "In other words, end of conversation."
He held out his arm. She slipped her hand through it, and they sauntered together into the sunshine.
*
Samantha would gladly have lingered in the office with Kieran, although she knew where that was likely to lead. It had taken all her resolve to get out of the cabin this morning while he lay there naked in bed.
She had to keep reminding herself that she was leaving. Soon, her customary itch would take over. A few days before departing, she always began to feel restless and cranky. Her mind would dance ahead to new thrills and new faces. Everyday chitchat would begin to bore her, and familiar settings would pale before the magnificent scenery in the travel brochures.
So why did she feel like sticking her toes into the dirt and holding fast? Why had she loved every bantering exchange at breakfast? Why did she cling to Kieran's arm as if it were the only thing keeping her upright?
Must be coming down with one of those pesky summer colds. Samantha almost wished her sinuses would run, just to prove it.
She forgot all that as she and Kieran joined the others. With so many people on hand, a flurry of activity quickly gained momentum. Well before the scheduled start time, people gathered in front of the hotel building where a softball field had been marked off.
The two teams that had survived the play-offs warmed up, with plenty of catcalls at each other. The onlookers divided into cheering sections, waving red or blue sheets of paper in lieu of banners.
The championship game surged ahead with more enthusiasm than skill. Kieran, who’d been designated umpire, struggled to call a play in which an onlooker caught a fly ball and tossed it to first base. He deemed it a foul.
Then the third baseman flung his shoe at a runner, making him stumble a few feet shy of home plate. Kieran declared the runner safe, gave his team the point and kicked the third baseman out of the game.
Samantha was impressed. He’d finessed the touchy calls without dampening anyone’s spirits. Except maybe the third baseman’s.
At last, the blue team triumphed by two points, and the kitchen staff served lunch outdoors—lasagna and garlic bread and three kinds of salads. Samantha heard several women comment that they might move here just for the food.
On the small stage set up for the event, Pete took the microphone to announce the start of the cheesecake competition. Mary Anne handed out entry cards. There weren’t as many entries as they’d hoped, so Samantha activated her backup plan.
"I need help to carry pies," she said, and was inundated with offers. Kieran, Lew, Alice and Mack trouped to the cabin with her.
Alice beat them all to the refrigerator, lifting out a chocolate specimen and inhaling deeply. "If this tastes as good as it smells, you have my vote."
“I’m only entering one pie, and it isn’t that one.” Samantha gazed around suspiciously. "Where's Beth? I'll bet she's entering, too."
"We're all going to vote for you," Alice declared loyally.
"Thanks, but the winners aren’t chosen by popular vote." The prize would be awarded by an expert judging panel consisting of the chef and two staff members. "And if Beth can bake a better cheesecake, she deserves the prize."
Kieran gave her a shadowed look as he picked up the chocolate-vanilla-raspberry blend. "You’re the winner in my book, no matter what anyone says.”
“Thank you.” Samantha appreciated the support. She’d poured a lot of love into these pies. “Be careful with that one. It’s my great golden hope.”
Outside, on the path, she spotted Lew and Beth ahead of them, each carrying a baking dish. Curiosity overwhelmed her. Had Beth found her recipes on-line, had she invented some like Samantha, or did she possess a secret store of ancient culinary knowledge, handed down from mother to daughter?
Why am I so worked up over a silly contest?
As she followed the others, she faced the truth: this weekend marked her farewell to Hidden Hot Springs, and she wanted to go out with a bang.
Beth, it turned out, was far from her only rival. Earlier, not many woman had responded to the request, but apparently they’d all been too busy rushing to their coolers. Cheesecakes crowded the pie table right to the edges.
Daunted, Samantha filled out one entry
card and set the other pies on a spare table, set aside for general tasting. Then she strolled around the table, reading the names on the other cards. Kieran, obviously not as obsessed as she was, went off to talk to Lew.
Some of the entrants were workmen; several were women Samantha had met at the first mixer. A few names were unfamiliar: Sarah McMillan and Maria Perez and Lee Huang and Shaunita Washington. A whole universe of new ladies had arrived, lured by the ads Samantha herself had posted. She’d become a victim of her own success.
There must be several hundred people here today. Samantha had never imagined her idea would blossom like this.
With a pang, she realized many of the newcomers might still be around after she left. And it wasn't fair to expect Kieran to put his heart on ice. He deserved a good woman, the right woman.
Samantha hoped the right woman took a wrong turn and got permanently lost en route to Hidden Hot Springs.
Over the microphone, Pete introduced the judging panel, and the onlookers cheered. Then the chef cried, "Let the best baker win!"
He and his two assistants hurried to the dessert table. The crowd pushed forward for a better view.
Samantha found herself surrounded, jostled, shut in and stifled. Being short, she couldn’t see, and a heavy purse banged her ribs, knocking the wind out of her. She tried to grab hold of something, but in the crush, the bodies became an amorphous mass.
Her head swam and heat flushed her skin, while the jam of onlookers blocked her retreat. How could this be happening? Samantha tried to call out for help, but her throat clamped shut.
"Samantha?" Like a breath of cool air, Kieran spoke from behind her. “Are you all right?"
“No!”
Strong hands caught her waist. Kieran lifted her free, wedged her over his shoulder and carted her to higher spot, where he eased her to the ground.
“Thank you.” She swayed a little, then regained her balance.
"What happened? You had a glazed expression when I spotted you." He steadied her with a touch at the elbow.
"Claustrophobia," Samantha admitted. "I hate getting trapped."
Run, Run, Runaway Bride Page 17
