A true city girl, she’d found that the cowboy look had grown on her since moving to Snow Valley. So much so that she’d strayed from her best-selling Regency romance books and started writing a ranch romance.
The hero was giving her trouble though. She wanted a man hard and weathered by life, a gunslinger unafraid to fight but who hesitated because he knew he’d win. He had to be rugged and yet tender enough to capture the damsel’s heart.
Watching Sam brought inspiration pounding at the door, and she headed for her laptop. After a couple hours of hammering out the word count, Cat had more than saving her from chickens to thank Sam for today. Maybe she’d make him that pumpkin bread after all … all she needed was three eggs. Darn that Bessie! With a goofy smile on her face and several layers of clothing, she headed out to Dove’s Grocery.
Chapter 2
As far as first dates go, this one wasn’t too bad. New Year, new record—right? Sam smiled.
Roxy was strong, independent, smart, and pretty with her button nose and Julia Roberts lips. She was one semester away from a bachelor’s degree. “What are your plans after graduation?”
She lifted her shoulders. “I want to find a way to work from home so I can be a mom someday.” Turning, she drew a smiley face in the moisture on the window.
This is where Sam usually got into trouble. He wasn’t sure if she was throwing out a hint or just making conversation. He hoped it was the latter. Roxy was the perfect farmer’s wife. He was jumping the gun, as this was their first night out, but Sam was done with casual dating. And what better place to start his own Snow Valley romance than at the New Year’s bonfire?
“How’re your parents doin’?”
“They’re recovering from the holidays. Both my brothers brought their families this year and stayed for a week. The house is in complete disarray, but we loved every minute of it.”
“Sounds like a great holiday.”
“It was.” Her voice held a note of longing.
Four years his junior, Sam had missed Roxy in high school. When they’d bumped into each other at Dove’s Grocery on Christmas Eve, it was pretty hard to overlook her flirtatious giggle filling the frozen foods aisle.
Sam parked next to a minivan in the open field. His tires sank an inch into the snow, the sound cutting of their conversation. “Let’s set up our seats, and then I’ll find some hot chocolate.”
Roxy bounced her knees and rubbed her mittens together. “Get me close to a fire—it’s freezing.”
Sam grinned as he slung two camp chairs over his shoulder and offered his arm. Roxy took it with a shy smile. He had her situated and comfortable in no time.
“I’ll be right back; you good?” he asked.
She nodded, tucking her hands under her thighs.
Sam paid twenty bucks for the two hot chocolates in Styrofoam cups. “Thanks, Mr. O’Hare.” He handed over the folded bill. The man’s wife had undergone a hip-replacement surgery and all proceeds from tonight were going to pay medical bills. “Keep the change.”
“Thank you, Sam.”
Sam nodded once before heading back to his seat. There was quite the crowd this year, and he had to weave in and out of people.
One end of the twenty acres of pasture was set apart as a snowy football field with pickup trucks lined up on the sidelines, their lights illuminating the players. Chase and Adam Moon were out there quarterbacking opposing teams. The brothers had a history of competing, but they were keeping it friendly tonight.
Porter Wilson and Jace McAllister were the running backs. No one moved all that fast, since they were wearing snow pants and heavy coats. The game was more for fun—a way to work off some energy after being cooped up inside. Spring football was where the gloves came off.
The middle of the pasture was dedicated to the hot chocolate booth as well as an area for Dutch oven cooking. Cobblers were always a favorite.
“Hey, Sam,” called Susan Bauer.
“Hi.” Sam lifted a cup in greeting to Chet’s older sister.
“Apple cobbler cake made with apples from your trees.” She pointed at the cast-iron pan settled atop glowing pieces of charcoal.
“Then you know it’s goin’ to be good.” Sam grinned.
“Stop by for a piece later on.”
“Will do.”
The final section of the field had three giant bonfires lighting up the night. Camp chairs circled each, scattered like blankets at a spring picnic. The heat from the fires could be felt from ten feet away, and no one settled a chair too close.
Spying Roxy, Sam carefully stepped around the group. He was making his way to the inner circle when someone bumped him from behind and he had to step quickly to the side to avoid spilling the hot drinks on his gloves.
The girl who had bumped him landed in the empty seat next to Roxy. They both squealed and threw their arms around each other’s necks.
“Amy! I didn’t know you were in town,” exclaimed Roxy.
Not wanting to interrupt their reunion, Sam hung back, positioning himself behind Roxy. Caught up in their reunion, neither girl noticed him. Shrugging, he took a sip of his cocoa. Just right. Kind of like tonight. Sam grinned.
The bonfire tradition started during the Great Depression. Residents were living out of their gardens and killing cattle to fill the soup pot and save on feed. The simple act of gathering to ring in the New Year with neighbors who were hurtin’ as much as you were fortified the residents of this close community. They toasted leaving the old year, praying for brighter times in the new.
Sam held the same prayer in his heart. Some refused to see his growth and treated him like the clueless boy he’d once been. Like Luke, who had punched him last spring when he’d flirted with the new massage therapist in town.
Sam shrugged it off. Over time, his quiet confidence had won him a few good friends. He had his eye on a piece of property adjacent to his. While he had enough to support himself, he’d need more land to support a family. If he stayed the course, it might even win him the affections of the sweet woman who waited for her hot chocolate.
Amy wiggled in the seat. “I just got in today, and I’m leaving Saturday to fly back to Nevada. I just came to introduce my fiancé to my parents.” Whipping off her glove, Amy brandished an impressive diamond. “Danny is a chiropractor and is opening his practice just outside of Las Vegas.”
Another wedding. The epidemic spread. Someone was making good money on engagement rings lately.
“How exciting. Is he here?” Roxy craned her neck, looking beyond Amy.
“Yeah, he’s playing in the football game.” She rolled her eyes. “I had to come find you. Who are you here with?”
Roxy ducked her head. “Sam Miller.”
Amy’s bubbly exterior popped. “Why?” she asked, her tone suggesting there was something wrong.
Sam lowered his brow. A phrase his mom had repeated played through his head. Those who eavesdrop are bound to hear things they don’t want to.
“No one else asked, and I wasn’t about to miss out on the bonfire,” replied Roxy. “Besides, he’s a gentleman, and I know he won’t expect anything out of me at the end of the night.”
“You should have just come alone … I mean, Sam?” Amy reprimanded Roxy.
Sam’s shoulders dropped, the drinks suddenly heavy in his hands. Once again, he’d played the game without knowing the rules—and he’d lost. This time stung more than others had. Probably because he’d thought Roxy saw the man he’d become.
“It’s not like I’m marrying him,” defended Roxy.
Ouch!
“Can you imagine?” Amy broke into giggles.
Roxy wasn’t laughing. She shifted in her seat. “Speaking of marriage, when’s yours?”
“This summer. I’ll send you an invitation.”
“Send it to my parents’ house. I’ll be done with school by then.”
“Sounds good. I’d better get.” She hugged Roxy once more. When she stood, she almost bumped into Sam—
again. “Oh. Hey, Sam.”
“Amy,” Sam replied without a smile. If he hadn’t overheard their conversation, he wouldn’t have remembered her name. He probably should pretend like he hadn’t heard her, but he had.
Amy scurried off, her face red, though Sam wasn’t sure if it was from the heat of the fire or from a worry that she’d been overheard.
Roxy had the same flushed look on her face. Perhaps, she too was worried he knew what she’d said.
“Here’s your cocoa.” He thrust the cup in her general direction and sat down in the recently vacated camp chair.
“Thanks.”
Roxy’s smile appeared genuine. But how was a guy to tell? “I hope you like it.” It cost me more than you’ll know. He wasn’t thinking about the twenty bucks—he was thinking about his hope that tonight would be the start of something great. He stared at the crackling fire as he took a long drink from his cup, unsure what to say now. They’d had a good conversation going before he’d left for drinks. His desire to continue had been doused by the knowledge that Roxy was using him like a fill-in-the-blank date.
They watched the flames in silence for a few minutes. “Do you mind if we call it a night?” he finally asked.
“But it’s only ten-thirty.” Roxy looked confused.
Sam was at a loss. Was he supposed to play along with her charade? Is that what people did on dates? If girls didn’t want to go out with him, they should say so up front. It would sure save him a lot of time cleaning out his truck and a good chunk of money on dinners in general.
“Sam!” called Kyle Linwood from a few feet away. Kyle was the high school gym teacher and coached the baseball team. Sam had gone along as a team chaperone and assistant coach when needed.
Relieved to have the pressure off, Sam waved as Kyle and Cameron made their way through the crowd, holding hands.
Roxy said hello to Cameron. “Can I ask you a couple questions about the Miss Snow Valley pageant?”
“I’m not really involved,” replied Cameron, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder.
“But you’ve coached before, right?”
“Yeah. What do you want to know? I’ll be happy to help if I can.”
Roxy began firing questions at Cameron about evening gowns and judges. The guys tuned out with the words “talent competition.”
“How’s it going?” Kyle tipped his American Ninja Warrior baseball cap toward Roxy, indicating he wanted to know about the date and not Sam’s orchard.
Sam shrugged.
“Stuck in the friend zone?” Kyle spoke low, the crackle of the wood and fire covering their conversation.
“Yep.” Stuck there forever and always and as long as I shall live. First Cat and now Roxy. He kind of wished he’d asked Cat to come tonight. They would have had a lot more fun together than he was having feeling all alone. Besides, there’d been something between them in that chicken coop; something he couldn’t quite name.
“I feel for ya, man.” Kyle clapped Sam on the shoulder bringing him out of his ponderings.
“Yeah.” Sam tuned back in to the girls’ conversation.
“Call me the day you get back in town, and we’ll get everything submitted,” said Cameron.
“Great!” Roxy looked pleased.
Kyle gave a small wave and took Cameron’s hand to lead her through the crowd. Sam’s gaze followed after them, the hot chocolate turning sour in his stomach. Having a hand to hold wasn’t too much to ask for out of life. Sam gave himself a good shake. Self-pity was not an attractive quality and not something Sam was prone to fall into.
Roxy smiled tentatively at him as he sat down. “Are you feeling okay?” she asked.
Sam fought the urge to sigh—loudly. Roxy was a cute girl; down-home pretty. The kind of woman who didn’t need makeup to make her beautiful. And he could see how, to the man who loved her, she’d be the most beautiful woman on earth.
He could have been that man for her.
Swallowing his disappointment, he decided that if making a new friend was the worst thing that happened tonight, then the night wasn’t a total waste. “I’m good. Do you want to see if Susan Bauer’s apple cobbler cake is finished?”
Roxy’s smile was half happy and half relieved. “What’s a cobbler cake?”
Sam tipped his head to the side. “A cake that’s gooey, warm, and sweet on the bottom—like a dump cake. But this one has oats and stuff like a cobbler.”
“Sounds delicious.” They made their way over to the huge Dutch ovens, where Susan put Roxy to work drizzling glaze over a cherry cobbler while she sprinkled cinnamon and sugar over the finished apple cobbler cake.
Sam spent the rest of the evening being a good friend to Roxy, and when the clock struck midnight, he blew his noisemaker and pretended that he wasn’t at all disappointed that he didn’t get a kiss.
* * *
After dropping Roxy off, Sam meandered home. Watering and feeding Chet’s cattle would come soon enough, yet he had no desire to flop into bed and stare at the ceiling.
His log home was situated behind a bluff, just past his parents’ place, unseen from the road. He suspected a lot of people thought that at age twenty-nine he still lived with his parents. He’d never put much stock into gossip—except having heard his name batted around like an old sock in a box full of coyotes tonight had him thinking maybe he should pay closer attention.
A light was on in his mama’s kitchen, and Sam tapped the brakes to slow down. His parents never stayed up to see the ball drop, even when he was a kid.
Parking behind their house, he went in through the side door and peeked into the kitchen, where he found his mom at the table. She wore the fuzzy bathrobe he’d bought her last Christmas over a pair of faded flannel pajamas. Her blond-gray hair was braided down her back, tied with a scrap of fabric.
“Mom?” Sam removed his shoes.
Setting down her mug of herbal tea, Edna motioned to the seat across from her. “Hi, Sam. How was your date?”
“Fine.” He shucked his coat and hung it on the back of the chair.
“Just fine?”
“Just fine, Mom.” He got himself a drink of water from the sink and sat down. “How come you’re up?”
“Toothache.”
“Didn’t Doctor Mason tell you to lay off the soda?”
“Yeah, but I heard there’s a new dentist moving in, so I thought I’d get myself a second opinion. Besides …” She smiled. “It’s just so darn good.”
Sam took a drink of water. There was no changing his mother’s mind until she was darn good and ready to change it herself. Besides, she’d had a diet soda open on the counter every day of his life.
“Tell me about your evening,” Mom prodded.
Sam hunched over the table, his arms circling the glass. He didn’t want to tell his mom about the conversation he’d overheard. Besides reminding him that an eavesdropper never hears good things, she’d probably snub Roxy’s mom at church or the Dove’s, and there’d be hard feelings. “Roxy is a good friend.”
“But not a girlfriend?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
He tried to play it casual and leaned back to sling an arm over the back of the chair. “I don’t think she’s all that interested.”
“Then she’s blind.” Edna’s voice was deadpan serious.
Sam chuckled at her bluntness.
His mom stirred her tea thoughtfully. “Have you thought about playing hard to get?”
He must be ultra-pathetic in the dating department if his mom felt the need to offer advice. Sam suppressed a groan. “I’m the man. I should do the asking.”
“I completely agree. But maybe you’re asking too soon.”
“What do you mean?”
“I know you, Sam. You see something you want, and you go after it full bore. Maybe, when it comes to women, you should hold off a bit, wait for them to come to you.”
Sam rubbed his hand through his short-cropped hair. “I don�
��t know if I’d feel right waiting for a girl to ask me out.” And I’d never get another date.
“That’s not what I’m sayin’.” Mom covered his hand with hers. “All I’m saying is that you should hold off a bit, see her around town a few times, maybe at church, and if she keeps talking to you, then you can ask her out. You’re like an excited puppy, son. Women think puppies are cute, but they don’t take them seriously.”
Sam took a sip of water. “I’ll think about it.”
“See that you do.” She stood. “My painkillers are kicking in. I’m going to give this sleep thing another try.” She kissed the top of his head. “Love you.”
“You too.” Sam retrieved his coat and boots and drove the rest of the way down the lane. His house wasn’t large, but it was the exact right size for a young couple. He snorted. At the rate he was going, there wouldn’t be any “young” left in that couple.
After adding a couple logs to the wood-burning stove, he climbed into bed. He’d spent a lot of years doing the best he knew how in the dating department. Maybe his mom was right. Maybe he should try playing hard to get.
The clock in the front room chimed one bell, the hum lingering. January 1st. New Year; time to come up with a new plan.
He took a deep breath, threading his fingers together and resting his hands on his chest, pondering. He’d asked Roxy out at their first meeting. He’d only seen her one other time after that—at church on Sunday. Had he waited, say one more meeting to put himself on the line, they wouldn’t have gone out at all, and she wouldn’t have played him like a rookie at bat.
So, three is the magic number. Three spontaneous meetings before he could arrange a date. Nodding once to cement his will, he rolled over to settle in.
Maybe by next New Year’s, he’d have someone to kiss at midnight. A guy could always hope, right?
Chapter 3
Cat stared at the empty sheet of paper before her, knowing that every author’s worst nightmare was a blank paper and no inspiration. New Year’s morning was half over, and she had yet to come up with one resolution.
Winter in Snow Valley (Snow Valley Romance) Page 2
