“And some damn fine biscuits, Dolly!” Randi shouted from down the table.
“And some damn fine biscuits,” she allowed. “Thing is, this year, I can’t think of a single thing to be grateful for.” Eyes widened as people stared at Dolly. “That’s because I’m grateful for so many things. My nephew Sammy, of course.” She looked over at Sam, who gave her a little salute. “Couldn’t imagine running the Last Chance without him these past seven years. And Janey, who keeps me in stitches while we’re stitching. And yeah, even Bob here. I’m glad to let bygones be bygones, and be grateful for all those years of friendship we’ve shared—as well as the ones to come.” She cast him a fond glance, and he returned it.
“But there’s one unexpected gift that came my way this year, and that’s our Merry.” She turned her gaze to Merry, and her eyes were moist. “Child, you’ve been a revelation, and an inspiration too. From day one you’ve given it your all. I’ve never known a woman with half the grit you’ve got, and it’s given me the gumption to keep fighting in the face of whatever comes my way, whether its bankruptcy or something unexpected down the road. So here’s to Merry!”
And as one, two dozen glasses were raised. “To Merry!”
Merry blushed a deeper crimson than the cranberry sauce.
“I’d like to second that,” said Bob when the shouting had died down. He cleared his throat. “Since she’s been here, Merry’s made us all see ourselves more clearly. She’s held, as Hamlet once said, ‘the mirror up to nature: to show virtue her feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and pressure.’ Her stories have exposed our foibles, celebrated our uniqueness, and improved our business. Plainly said, Lady Hobbit, we’re glad you’re here.”
“I’ll third that,” said Jane, elbowing across Marcus to muss Merry’s hair. “Here’s to Merry! Maybe you can’t crochet worth a damn, but you sure have wound your way into a lot of hearts around here.” She toasted Merry with her wineglass.
Merry was too blinded by tears to toast back.
Before she could begin to gather her emotions, Sam spoke up. “My thanks this year go to Merry as well,” he said. He reached out and cupped her cheek, gently wiping the tears away. “The moment Buddha hauled off and hawked a loogie in your face, Merry, I knew things were never going to be the same around here. From summiting Wheeler Peak on a bum leg to birthing an alpaca all by yourself in the middle of a snowstorm, you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever known. And that bravery healed something in me I didn’t know was broken. You’ve opened my heart, Merry Manning.” He paused, and Merry saw there were tears in his eyes as well. “And you’ve claimed a piece of that heart—if you want it.”
Merry found her hands were trembling, and she knew only one place they’d find shelter. She tucked her fingers inside his own. “Oh, I want it,” she said.
“Gag! Retch! Puke! Jesus, you two, if you were trying to get me back on my diet, you’ve succeeded. Who could stomach such treacle?” Marcus shuddered.
“Your sister was trying to have a moment there, sport,” said Pierce, calmly unfolding his napkin.
“And the rest of us are trying to have dinner. So can we hurry it up?” Marcus winked at Merry, and, snuffling back both tears and laughter, she pulled a face at him.
Gwendolyn refrained from cautioning Merry against the potential ruination of her face. Instead, she cleared her throat. “Pierce and I are also very grateful to be with you all today,” she announced. “I honestly can’t remember when we’ve had such a charming country holiday. Isn’t that right, dear?”
Pierce nodded. “Beats Turkey Day at the White House, hands down.”
“So today I’m grateful for…” Gwendolyn looked pensive. “Well, for having a lot to chew on, I suppose.”
Considering the minuscule portion she’d ladled onto her plate, Merry didn’t think her mother was talking about food.
“Can we eat now?” Bernie yelled.
They could eat.
They have a post-Thanksgiving tradition here in Aguas Milagros. And while the town is salutary in so many ways, I cannot “get with” this particular one.
Who in their right minds would want to get naked with stomachs as full as ours still were the day after a festival meal as rich, satisfying, and altogether egregious as the one served to us by the inimitable team of Dolly Cassidy and Needlepoint Bob?
Who, moreover, would want to get naked with their parents, their hostess, and their supermodel brother, in the company of their brand-new boyfriend? (Sorry, fans, I’m afraid Studly Sam is officially off the market. He says “hi” though.)
Despite my better judgment, off we went to the hot springs, for Aguas Milagros is a town deeply rooted in tradition, and who was I to change that? (Seriously, I asked, but apparently I hadn’t the power to change it.)
Unfortunately, I was proven right in my protestations.
Because the springs were already occupied. By a big, fat snake.
* * *
“We are totally getting out of this,” Merry assured Sam. “No way Pierce and Gwendolyn are going naked in public.”
Sam gulped. She’d never seen him disconcerted before, but she was sure as hell seeing it now. “It’s one thing to meet your girlfriend’s parents,” he muttered, tidying his ponytail as they approached the hacienda from his hobbit hole in the early-morning light. “It’s another to…you know, meet them.”
“Thought you were all about au naturel,” Merry teased.
“There’s au naturel and there’s ‘au, please gouge out my eyes with a melon baller.’”
“Never fear,” she said, patting his arm as they entered the house. The Mannings were sipping coffee at the kitchen table, looking bright-eyed and rested, while Dolly fussed around them. Let’s see if I can blow their Zen, she thought. “Guys, there’s something they probably didn’t tell you about the springs at Aguas Milagros.” She paused. “It’s naked-only.”
Puzzled looks met her pronouncement.
“What other way would there be to visit a hot spring, darling?” Gwendolyn said. Merry couldn’t tell if it was the Botox or if her mother was truly unfazed.
“Naked, as in you have to get naked. In front of other people.”
“I’m game,” said Marcus.
Merry rolled her eyes. Of course he was. Her brother never missed an opportunity to shuck trou. But it was her parents’ blasé reactions that stumped her.
“When in Rome,” Pierce said with a shrug. “And believe me, they do stranger things in Rome—or at least the diplomatic corps do, when they’re off the clock.”
“Darling, don’t be so provincial,” Gwendolyn drawled. “A woman of the world doesn’t blush at such things. Why, your father and I visited the baths in Kyoto countless times when we were stationed there.”
“But you said…you totally gave me hell when I did it in Istanbul, and that wasn’t even coed!”
“One does it, Merry. One doesn’t tell people about it.” If Merry hadn’t known better, she’d have sworn she saw Gwendolyn wink.
Sam chuckled, and she shot him a dirty look. “Mother, it’s a mile up the mountain, and you don’t have the right shoes. And…and…” Merry ran out of reasons.
“A walk in the woods will be bracing,” said Pierce, bouncing on his toes. “Especially after all that food yesterday.” He patted his stomach.
“Yes, and Dorothy’s been kind enough to lend me a pair of quite sporty walking shoes.” Gwendolyn stuck out one small foot, clad in a pair of Keds. “We’re all keen to set off, Merry, so do stop dawdling.”
“Sam, help!” Merry whispered.
“Look, I’m one hundred percent with you on this one,” he said, whispering just as low. “But I know when I’m licked. Let’s just get this over with, and pray for a steamy morning at the springs.”
* * *
Dorothy had been unusually quiet this morning, and Merry knew she was more worried about John resurfacing than she let on. She stuck close to Sam as the party set off
, leaning a little on his arm, and Merry let them have their time together. She could use a little time with her closest relative too.
Merry trod the path alongside Marcus, envying him his smooth stride, though she had to admit her own gait was far stronger than it had been just weeks ago. “So, what’ll you do with your big sweaty wad o’ Granny-cash?” she asked. “You must be slavering to get spending now the bequest’s come due.”
“I didn’t take it, actually.”
Merry did a double take. “You’re shitting me.”
Marcus shrugged. “I started thinking about what you said, about the strings attached. And the more I thought, the more I realized that I wanted to…I don’t know…be my own man, I guess. The business I’m in…it doesn’t exactly promote responsibility. Fashion is all about the illusion of eternal youth. But we both know I’m near the end of my shelf life. Another year or two, and I’ll be lucky to get print campaigns for Eddie Bauer. I wasn’t wise with my money because I knew I had Grandmother’s fortune to fall back on. Figured I’d spend the rest of my days making Mother happy by sucking up to old biddies for her charitable campaigns. Or I could marry Penny Aberdeen, the way she’s been hoping for about the past ten years. But then I thought about all you’ve been doing…and, well, it sort of shamed me. You’ve always been the better of the two of us—”
Merry’s jaw dropped. “Marcus, nobody thinks that—”
“Sure they do. Let’s face it, Sis. You’ve always been the driven one, the talented one. Me? I just had a pretty face. But you…the whole world knew your name. You were America’s next great champion. And when your first career was taken away, you got back up on your feet and found a new way to win people’s hearts. That’s the kind of person you are, Merry. Tough. Resilient. A fighter. You may be my little sister, but I look up to you. And not just because you are a big ol’ Sasquatch.”
Merry stopped right there on the trail and gave him a hug.
“So what do you want to do?” she asked when they resumed walking.
He shrugged again. “I thought I’d try the other side of the camera for a change,” he said. “Maybe some nature portraits, or even documentary filmmaking. There are a lot of great causes I could champion, instead of just exploiting my body for cash. It’s scary as shit to think of going it alone, but I’ve got enough connections to get me started. Hell, maybe I’ll go to grad school.” His mouth twisted wryly. “Imagine me, a student at nearly forty. Maybe I’m being ridiculous.”
Merry beamed at her brother. “For the first time in all the years I’ve known you, Marcus, I don’t think you’re the least bit ridiculous.”
The sight that met their eyes at the hot springs, however, was.
Yep, Merry thought. That’s a briefcase. No amount of eye rubbing or arm pinching would change the fact that an alligator leather attaché was propped between two rocks on the edge of the steaming mineral pool.
It belonged, presumably, to the fellow in the three-piece suit.
Who was dabbling his pasty white toes in the pool.
The person inside the pool was properly naked. Well, except for his feather-festooned cowboy hat.
Heading up their party, Dolly stopped so short the rest of them piled into one another like Keystone Cops. Pierce and Gwendolyn merely looked confused by the unusual occupants of the springs. Marcus seemed to be treating the scene as just one more Aguas Milagros weirdness. Sam bristled at Merry’s side when he saw who it was. But Dolly was steaming hotter than the springs.
“Is there even one damn thing you won’t ruin, John Dixon?”
Dolly’s ex leaned his head back against the smooth stones that lined the pool, flinging his arms wide. He smiled through his brushy mustache. “Why, Dolly, what a surprise! We were just enjoying a nice morning soak. Weren’t we, Twat?”
“Watts,” sighed the lawyer, swishing his feet in the water. He eyed his wingtips with longing, as if he couldn’t believe his current sad state of affairs.
“There’s something you should be soaking, alright, and that’s your fat head,” Dolly spat. “Don’t try and tell me you ain’t here to bedevil me, because even you couldn’t be that full of bull.”
Marcus guffawed, but Merry elbowed him and he quieted.
“Fine. You got me.” John shrugged. “Knew I’d get the business end of your shotgun if I showed up at the ranch,” he said, “even if it is still half mine. And I knew you always visit the springs the day after Thanksgiving. You ain’t exactly known for being quick to change your ways, Dolls. I figured best to meet on neutral ground. Didn’t realize you’d be having a party.” He eyed the Mannings curiously.
Dolly became aware of their audience as well, but she wasn’t about to tuck tail. “These springs aren’t neutral ground, they’re sacred ground. And your greed pollutes them like poison.”
John scoffed. “Nothing’s sacred, woman, not even your precious ranch. You’re gonna have to face reality sometime…and I hate to tell you, but that time is today. Twat here drew up the contracts, and I expect you to sign, or there’ll be trouble.”
Sam strode to the lip of the pool. “Are you threatening my aunt?” Merry had never seen him so furious. She grabbed his arm lest he drown his uncle-in-law.
John smoothed his mustache. “Now simmer down, Sammy. This ain’t your business. It’s between Dolly and me.”
“I’m making it my business,” Sam said. Merry bit her lip. She’d like to make it her business too—with a knuckle sandwich straight in Dixon’s smirking face—but this hardly seemed the place.
Her mother disagreed.
“Sir, I don’t know who you are, but I do know you are singularly rude.” Gwendolyn strode to the fore, regal as could be. “What business brings you here, and why are you harassing Mrs. Cassidy?”
“I can answer that one for you, Gwen,” said Dolly. It broke Merry’s heart to see the defeated expression on her weathered face. “This is my not-ex-enough ex-husband, John Dixon. And that over there’s the lawyer he brought with him to try to force me to sell the ranch.”
“Ah.” Gwendolyn pursed her lips.
“Ah, nothing,” John said, rising up to point a finger at his former wife. “I gave you fair warning, woman, but you wouldn’t budge. Now you’re gonna. This fella’s got the papers that say so.” He jerked his thumb at the lawyer. “Says if you won’t buy me out for the same’s they’re willing to offer or better, I have the right to petition the court to a force a sale through, and you’ll just have to take what you get in the settlement. So ’less you got the cash today, you’re out on your rump.”
“I’ll give you a kick in the rump!” Dolly stomped forward, suddenly fired up again.
“Hang tight, Dolly.” This came from Sam, who looked positively murderous. He laid his hand on his aunt’s arm. “Let me take care of the pest removal.”
“Should we be calling the police?” Pierce murmured to Merry.
She shook her head. “Dolly’s a tough lady. She can handle it.”
But it was another tough lady who took charge.
“Sir, am I correct in the presumption that you are attempting to sell the Last Chance ranch to this…” She waved at Watts. “Person, or to those he represents?”
“You can presume anything you like, lady.” John smirked, but Gwendolyn’s manner had clearly caught him off guard.
Gwendolyn was not to be deterred. “And further, that the buyer intends to use the ranch for large-scale commercial purposes?” Her ice-blue eyes skewered Watts now, cross-examining him.
The lawyer nodded meekly, looking like he wanted to dive for the bottom of the pool. “That’s right, Mrs.…?”
“It’s Lady. Lady Gwendolyn Hollingsworth Manning.”
Hoo, boy, Merry thought. Mother doesn’t whip out the honorifics for just anybody. She put her arm around Sam, who still seemed ready to leap into action. “I think we’re in for some fireworks,” she murmured to him.
Sam gave her an uncertain look. “It’s a good thing,” Merry assured him
. At least, she thought, it’s a good thing when the Wrath of Gwendolyn isn’t directed at me.
Watts gulped. “That’s correct, Mrs.…er, Lady…um…your grace.” He wiped a bead of sweat off his brow. “Massive Euphemistics, whose interests I represent, plans to run a corporate retreat and conference center out of the Last Chance ranch.”
“Well, they’d best make other plans, I’m afraid,” Gwendolyn said. She examined her manicure. “It so happens the Last Chance is an historical landmark. I ascertained as much with the aid of that delightful Ms. Donovan yesterday,” she said, turning to look at Dolly. Merry could swear there was a glint of mischief in her eye. “We spent a very rewarding half hour in the Aguas Milagros archives yesterday, and as it turns out, there was a fascinating record of a certain Indian chief…Manzanito, was it?”
“Chief Manuelito,” Dolly said.
“Yes, Manuelito. That was it. Well, apparently he had quite the history in Northern New Mexico in the mid-1800s, and one of his many rebellions took place on the site of your very ranch. Part of the hacienda actually dates back to those days, and may have been where he made his stand against US government forces.”
Dolly’s eyes lit. “That’s right! We’ve got a plaque and everything, on the wall by the yard. I never thought much about it, honestly.”
“Well, whoever sold you the ranch should have told you, because it’s listed in the National Register of Historic Places, and that has repercussions.” Gwendolyn turned to the two men in the pool. “You see, gentlemen, the ranch is a site of national historic significance. As such, it cannot be renovated, repurposed, or materially altered in any way that would mar the historical value of the site.”
“All because of some stupid plaque?!” John was sputtering through his facial hair.
Last Chance Llama Ranch Page 40
