“It can’t be that bad, can it?”
“Remind me to tell you about the time my mother offered to buy me a boob job for Christmas,” Merry said.
Sam shuddered. “Thank God she didn’t succeed. I’m rather partial to your boobs the way they are.” He slid his arm around her and copped a gentle feel.
Merry smiled wryly. “Apparently they weren’t ‘proportional’ to my great height, or so my mother claimed.”
“Oh, honey.” Sam tightened his arm around her as they walked.
“Anyhow, thanks for not freaking out about the money.”
“About you having it, or you not accepting it?”
Merry sighed. “Either, I guess.”
“Why would either one freak me out?”
“In my experience, people tend to have a lot of opinions about what one should do with money—my mother being a prime example. But Sam, I need you to know something…”
“What’s that, honey?”
“I wanted to use mine to help you and Dolly. I offered it to her when John first threatened the ranch. And I’d still do it in a heartbeat, if Dolly would let me.”
“I can see why she wouldn’t,” Sam said. “Don’t get me wrong—a bailout would make life around here much easier, for the animals as well as ourselves. But we didn’t come here for an easy life; we came here for a life we could live with—and we want no less for you, Merry.” He stroked her cheek with one rough thumb. “Whatever path you walk, it’s got to be one that suits your soul, not someone else’s idea of who you should be. I learned that one the hard way.”
Merry looked down at Sam’s bare feet, thinking of how he walked his path with such commitment, such honesty. She wanted that for herself. “It’s just so hard to remember who I am when they’re around,” she confessed. “I revert back to some stammering sixteen-year-old lummox the minute they arrive. Which is why I tend to avoid them whenever possible.”
“Do you think maybe they came here to make amends? Start over?”
Merry thought about how her mother had given her such honest advice about fund-raising a few weeks back, how she’d seemed completely up to date on her doings—almost as if she truly cared. It would be so nice to think they could have a grown-up relationship, without threats, bribes, or coercion. “Maybe,” she said dubiously.
“Well, how about you give them the benefit of the doubt while they’re here? Worst comes to worst,” he joked, “we’ll sic the llamas on ’em.”
“It may come to that.”
It did.
* * *
“Meredith,” her mother said. “I’d like a word.”
I get pulled into any more sidebar conferences, Merry thought, and I’m going to have to change my career again—this time to attorney.
The hand Gwendolyn placed on her daughter’s arm was light enough scarcely to be felt through Merry’s borrowed coat, yet enough to stop her in her tracks. Again, she watched the others outpace her, Pierce with hands in his greatcoat, studying the livestock soberly, Marcus tucking stray panties in his pockets as Sam and Dolly expounded on the animals’ admirable qualities and Jane checked them over to be sure all were operating at full fluff.
She’d have given a great deal to be with the others right now. But she knew that look. Gwendolyn would have her say. “What is it, Mother?”
Gwendolyn paced a few steps forward, her fur collar turned up to her chin, stiletto heels somehow not catching in the grass the way a lesser mortal’s might. She paused delicately. “Darling, what I’m about to say is for your benefit, so I do hope you will hear me out without your customary hysterics.” She looked up at Merry as if daring her to engage in said hysterics. “It’s all well and good, your helping these people out. Clearly they need it, and I raised you to know your duty. But if I were you, I wouldn’t get too…close…to anyone here.”
“You mean, to Sam.” Merry’s face grew stony, though her cheeks had gone red. The borrowed union suit had not gone unnoticed then.
Gwendolyn didn’t try to deny it. “Yes, Meredith, that is what I mean. A man like him…well, I’ll grant he’s a strapping specimen, and we all have needs…but, darling, let’s be realistic. He’s got no real prospects. You’ve as much as said he’ll be out of a job if the ranch folds. And maybe he can pitch a tent in the woods and live off the land—I will admit his survival skills seem impressive if your column is to be believed—but he’d never be able to take care of you properly. You’d always be scraping by, never afforded the privileges you were raised to enjoy. Surely that can’t be what you want for yourself. A woman of your breeding, your background…well, you were never meant to make a life with someone like that, in a place like this.” She placed her hand back on Merry’s arm. “Please, Meredith, reconsider your rashness, and accept my mother’s bequest.”
There’s the mother I know.
The politeness she’d displayed at breakfast might mask her true feelings in front of the others, but Merry knew better. People like Dolly, Jane, and Sam were no more than peons to Gwendolyn—peons who ought to be grateful she deigned to grace them with her presence.
Anger flared. “What if I did make a life here, Mother? What if this is exactly the place I’m meant to be, and Sam Cassidy is the man I’m meant to be with?” In truth, Merry’s thoughts hadn’t gone that far yet—she and Sam were just beginning to enjoy each other—but once she entertained it, the notion felt right.
To me, maybe. But not to Mother. Gwendolyn was pursing her lips, looking past her daughter at the sturdy rancher. Sam was leaning against a fence post, laughingly letting Fauntleroy lip his hair as he extolled the llama’s virtues to her father and brother. Merry saw him as her mother must—as she herself had done when first she arrived. Scruffy. Unrefined…
Then she saw him with her own two eyes. As the man she’d fallen for.
Yup. She was crazy about every last scruffy, unrefined inch of Sam Cassidy. He was perfect for her—a man who saw her worth, not her size or outward accomplishments. And maybe that was exactly what her subconscious had been trying to tell her all along, the reason she’d found it impossible to say a bad word about him in her column. Now, she didn’t want to hear a bad word about him—from her mother or anyone else.
“You know what, Mother?” Merry rounded on Gwendolyn. “You are an inveterate snob. These people have been nothing but kind to you, and all you can do is look down your patrician little nose at them and say they’re not good enough for a daughter bearing your pedigree.”
“I am not a snob, Meredith…”
“It’s Merry!”
“I’m not a snob, Merry. And I have nothing against the Cassidys. They seem like quite decent people. But you’re still finding your feet after the accident, darling. You can’t possibly know what you want, what’s best for you. As your mother, it’s my responsibility to ensure you don’t make a terrible mistake.”
“A mistake? Rejecting Granny’s money isn’t a mistake—in fact, it’s probably the most rational thing I’ve ever done! You know what my real mistake has been? Trying to please you.” Merry raked a hand through her hair, determined not to let tears fall. “Because obviously it’ll never happen. And certainly not since I stopped being the precious little Olympian you could trot out at parties decked in gold medals!”
“Darling, keep your voice down,” Gwendolyn shushed, eyes darting about to see who might have heard her daughter’s overloud rant. But Merry didn’t care. She was done worrying about Gwendolyn Manning’s delicate sensibilities.
“You want to know the first thing I felt when I woke up from that coma two years ago, Mother?” she demanded. “It was relief. Relief! Because I knew I would never have to please you again. I’d never be able to please you again. And then maybe you’d leave me alone.”
Gwendolyn’s face went ashen. “Never please me? Good God, is that what you think I care about? Your pleasing me? Merry, I didn’t care about your medals because of how they reflected on me. I cared because they meant you’d found someth
ing you were passionate about—a place to fit in, to excel. I only pushed you toward skiing in the first place because I thought it would give you a sense of pride, of accomplishment…”
“It did, but…”
“Let me finish, if you please.”
Merry instinctively obeyed her mother’s tone, though her blood was boiling to pursue this long-overdue fight.
“From the time you were little, I knew you weren’t well suited for the life I had to offer, but I simply didn’t know how to help you. It was never about your height, or your appearance; it was about how you felt about them. How you seemed to set yourself apart from the rest of us. Please try to understand where I was coming from, Merry. I only knew my own way, the way the women in my family have done things for generations. It was my duty to provide that upbringing for you, but over the years you’ve made it abundantly clear you have nothing but contempt for the life we live.”
“I have contempt? You’re the one who was disappointed with me all the time.”
“I wasn’t disappointed, Merry…or if I was, it wasn’t with you.” She passed a hand across her cheek, swiping away a tear, and suddenly, to Merry, Gwendolyn looked her age. “It was with myself. Frankly, I didn’t know what to do with a daughter like you. Marcus? Well, he was easy. He’s always moved in our circles seamlessly. I didn’t have to worry about him. But you were so unhappy, and I knew it was because I was failing you. It broke my heart to see you miserable every day. I thought if I pushed you harder, provided more opportunities, you’d find a way to fit in. But that day of your sweet sixteen, when you told me you’d tried to harm yourself just to get out of a little party…I saw that I was going about things all wrong.”
“A little party? Half the UN was there!”
“It was what was expected for a girl of your station. But I never expected you’d hate it so much you’d…do what you did.” Gwendolyn’s voice broke. “After that, I suppose I became obsessed with your skiing career, because the only time I ever saw a smile on your face was when you’d cross the finish line. You were so talented, so dedicated. You had a gift that put the rest of us to shame—my own small talent as a skater was never anything to compare to your greatness. And then, when you lost it…” She stopped, and tears trembled again on her lashes—real tears, ugly tears this time. “When you almost died…Oh, Merry, I was afraid you’d never find another place where you’d be happy. Ever since, you’ve seemed so adrift. The only thing I could think was to bring you home, so that I could provide a safe place for you, and a purpose.”
Merry felt as if Betty the poltergoat had butted her square in the solar plexus. She’d never heard so much raw honesty from her mother. Could she trust it? Or was this just another trick to get her to conform? “But what if where I’m happy is here? What then, Mother?”
Gwendolyn sighed. “Merry, it hasn’t been that long since the accident. There’s still a whole world out there for you—and I’m not talking about hamam horror stories or pub crawls in Copenhagen. Here, all you have is…” She prodded a clod on the ground with the toe of her twelve-hundred-dollar boot. “Manure.” She put her hand on Merry’s arm again. “I’m not asking you to stop caring about these people. Of course it’s natural for you to care, especially when you’ve been struggling so hard to find your way. I’m simply trying to make you see what you’ll be giving up if you limit yourself to this little village. If you turn your back on all the Hollingsworth and Manning names can offer.”
Merry blew out a breath of frustration. “You’ve no idea what Aguas Milagros has to offer, Mother. How about you give it a chance before you decide they’re all rubes? Get to know them, instead of just assuming they’re ‘too limited’ for your daughter. Maybe I’m not the one who’s missing something. Maybe it’s you who can’t see. You’re in the middle of a ranch, for Christ’s sake, and you haven’t even looked at the animals! I mean, what kind of woman thinks an alpaca isn’t adorable? Who couldn’t love a llama?”
“I have nothing against these people or their livestock, Merry.”
“Prove it!”
And she did.
* * *
“Mother, wait!” I cried, but Mother was already striding up to the paddock fence. Buddha’s neck drew back with alarm, his ears flapping agitatedly.
I knew what came next.
Apparently, so did my mother. As the stream of spit arced through the air, my mother ducked.
Ducked, I tell you. And she did it so gracefully it was no effort at all—like a character in The Matrix dodging bullets in slow motion. I could almost hear sound effects, I swear.
My mouth dropped open. Unfortunately for my brother, who was standing behind Mother, so did his.
Thwack. Buddha scored a hole in one.
“Auuggggggggghhhhh!” Marcus gargled. His face was covered with slobber and contorted with horror. “Call the CDC!”
So that’s what I looked like, that first day at the ranch, I thought. I looked over at Sam, who was biting his lip manfully. Jane didn’t do such a great job hiding her mirth. “Hold still, crybaby,” she snickered. “I’ve got you.” She tugged a hankie free of her back pocket and flapped it open. While the elder Mannings watched in appalled fascination, she wiped their pride and joy clean. “There, good as new,” she pronounced. “Or, as good as you’re gonna get, anyway.”
I must tell you, our dear vet did not look impressed.
Marcus, however, looked intrigued. “Thanks, babe,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulder. “You’re a real lifesaver.”
Jane shrugged out from under it. “Save it,” she said. “You’re not my type.”
* * *
“Gay, huh?” Marcus side-mouthed to Merry as they continued their tour.
“Who, Jane? I don’t think so.” Merry was still so rattled by her fight with their mother that she could scarcely pay attention to Marcus.
“C’mon. She’s got to be.”
Merry looked over at Jane, who was measuring little Bill from stem to stern, jotting down notes on a pad. She tugged the cria’s ear playfully as it nosed in her pockets for treats. Jane’s joy was contagious, but Merry couldn’t share it. She was too busy trying to wrap her mind around everything her mother had revealed. So much that she’d believed about Gwendolyn had just been called into question. But one thing Merry knew: Her mother was a snob. And Gwendolyn wasn’t the only Manning with a penchant for pretention. “Hate to break it to you, Uglymug, but not falling for your charms doesn’t make a woman homosexual.”
Marcus didn’t look offended. “In my experience it does.”
“Well, you’re in a different world now, Banana Hammock.”
Marcus grew serious. “I can see that, Sis. And I can see how good it’s been for you. This ranch seems to have worked a kind of magic on you. I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy since…well, ever.”
Merry forgave Marcus’s arrogance. As always, he saw straight into the heart of her—the only one, before Sam, who could. If only our parents could do the same…“You’re right. This time at the Last Chance…it’s given me a second chance. A place to start over, and maybe even belong.”
“Are you seriously thinking of staying on? Even if it really does mean telling Mom and her money to bugger off?”
“I am,” Merry said, and saying it aloud made her feel suddenly light—and not merely in the wallet. “That is, if there’s anything to stay for.”
“What about Sam? The guy’s clearly willing to go twelve rounds in the ring for you.”
Merry blushed. “He’s part of it. But I meant the buyout. Dolly’s ex will be back any day, and he’ll spend the rest of their lives hauling Dolly through the courts if he doesn’t get what he wants.”
Marcus nodded. “I can understand why you’d be upset if Dolly lost the ranch. I’d help you out, out of my own inheritance, but…” He paused. “That might prove tricky.”
Before Merry could ask what he meant, Pierce strode up. “Merry, I’ve just made acquaintance with the most
astounding creature!” He linked arms with her and tugged her to the pen where Jane, with Dolly’s help, was finishing up Bill’s wellness exam. Dashiell had her head over the rail, batting her lashes at them both, while Bill, all curly chocolate wool and sweet innocent cheeks, nuzzled her for milk. Pierce seemed smitten. “Dorothy’s been telling me how you helped save this young fellow’s life.” He shook his head. “Amazing!”
Merry beamed under her father’s praise. “He is pretty cute, isn’t he?”
“Gwendolyn, isn’t it something? Look what our Merry’s done!”
Gwendolyn, following in her husband’s wake, tried on a smile. “I’m sure we’re all very proud of Merry’s…animal husbandry.” She pulled the hem of her coat away from the cria’s questing mouth.
Guess we’re not holding hands and singing songs around the campfire quite yet, Merry thought.
“Neither Dashie nor her cria would have made it through the night if it weren’t for Merry,” said Sam, clearly trying to cut the tension.
“And I wouldn’t have made it through the night if it weren’t for Sam.” Very deliberately, Merry slipped her arm about his waist.
Sam looked surprised at the way she’d just claimed him in front of her family, but his eyes were warm as he gazed back at her. He looped his arm around her in return, and Merry was buoyed by its solidity. “I think you’d have done alright, honey, but I was glad to help where I could.”
“You’ve helped our daughter quite a lot, it would seem,” Gwendolyn said, eyeing their body language with an inscrutable expression.
Pierce cleared his throat, and Marcus smothered a laugh. Jane gave the supermodel a scowl.
“How about we hit the road, folks?” Dolly suggested.
The stampede for Sam’s truck left llamas blinking in their wake.
Sam held the door open for Merry’s family, then snuck a kiss on her neck as she passed him as well. “Hang in there, honey,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
Last Chance Llama Ranch Page 38
