One Last Kiss by Kat Martin

Chapter Six

After supper, Sam spent a couple of hours in his study. There was always work to do: QuickBooks entries to check, supply orders to prepare, cost analyses to examine. The work was endless. He was grateful for Clara’s help, along with the CPA in Coffee Springs who kept everything running smoothly.

Tonight his mind kept straying to Libby. She didn’t trust men, that was for sure. Obviously, she’d been hurt badly. He wondered who had done it and felt a surge of protectiveness he hadn’t expected.

The house was quiet as he walked down the hall to the kitchen for a glass of milk before heading up to bed. When something glinted on the deck off the dining room, he stepped outside and was surprised to find Libby sitting in a chair peering through a thick tube perched on a tripod.

“You’re up late,” he said, walking toward her. “Is that a telescope?”

Libby turned away from the scope. Although it was dark, he could tell she was smiling.

“Stargazing is my passion. I got interested in college, and it just stuck with me.” She stared up at the blanket of stars overhead. “Isn’t it amazing? The sky so black and clear, almost no light anywhere. The stars look like white diamonds on black velvet.” She pointed up. “That’s the Milky Way. You can just look up and see it. There’s nothing like this in the city or anywhere else I’ve ever been.”

Something shifted inside him. He was learning there was more to Libby Hale than he had first thought. “Except for the three years I spent in the army, I’ve lived in Coffee Springs all my life. You begin to take things for granted, I guess.”

“Like being able to see the stars whenever you want?”

“Yeah.”

“Want to take a closer look?”

“Sure.” But he regretted the impulse the minute he moved closer and inhaled the soft, sweet scent of her.

Libby shifted forward to adjust a few knobs and bring the picture into focus, brushing her breasts against his shoulder and putting her cheek close to his. If he turned his head, he could kiss those full pouty lips.

His body stirred to life, and Sam bit back a groan.

“So what do you think? Isn’t it something?”

He forced himself to concentrate. “Spectacular.” But he couldn’t help wondering if he was talking about the stars or the woman looking up at them.

He took a deep breath and eased away. “Thanks for sharing.”

“You think it’s safe to leave it set up out here?”

“We’re not in New York. If you’ve got something to cover it and keep out the moisture, it should be fine.”

“I’ve got everything I need.”

Sam nodded. “Well, goodnight then.”

He heard her moving around in the darkness behind him. “Goodnight, Sam.”

There was an intimacy in the way she said his name that made his groin tighten. It was impossible to deny he wanted her. Sam cursed Martin Hale again for putting him in this position.

* * * *

The last two guests arrived the next day, a couple of fishermen. One was a black-haired man named Max Stoddard with a wiry build and darkly suntanned skin. The other, Vince Nolan, was big and beefy, with straight blond hair that nearly reached his thick-muscled shoulders.

Libby stood next to Sam as he made the introductions; then the two men left to unpack their bags and make themselves at home in Wolverine Cabin.

They seemed different from the other guests, Libby thought, a little less friendly, but maybe it was just her.

By the end of the first few days, she had settled into a routine, finding the chores less distasteful than she had imagined. The Dunbar kids picked up after themselves, while the honeymooners, Kim and Brad, passed on housekeeping for two days in a row and mostly stayed in their cabin. If Alice and Betty were in Badger Cabin when Libby arrived, the women both pitched in to help.

In Wolverine, the fishermen, Max and Vince, slept late and missed breakfast their first morning, picked up sack lunches, grabbed fishing poles, and headed off to the creek. At supper, they stayed mostly to themselves. The next day, they ate and left but declined housekeeping, which was fine with her.

The guests all seemed to be having a good time, and Libby had to admit she was enjoying these days away from the city far more than she had imagined.

This morning, she’d awakened early and wandered over to the window. Noticing the spectacular sunrise taking shape outside, she quickly dragged on jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, pulled her hair into a ponytail, grabbed her cell to take pictures, and headed downstairs.

Standing at the rail on the deck, she snapped a string of photos, excited to post them on her Instagram page and text them to her best friend, Caroline Thompson, back in the city. Finished, she stuck the phone in her pocket and just stood there watching the light, an array of pink, orange, rose, and gold that reminded her of rainbow sherbet.

Memories tickled the back of her mind, mornings she had stood outside the barn on the farm with her dad, watching the gray dawn brighten to a palette of beautiful colors. She remembered the smell of bacon frying and her mother humming in the kitchen as she cooked.

More memories surfaced. Her first day at school when she was five, getting on the school bus in the winter, her mom reminding her not to lose her gloves. Her chest ached. It took a moment for the sound of bootsteps to register behind her. Libby turned to see Sam, a worried look on his face.

“You’re crying. What’s wrong?”

She hadn’t realized. She swallowed past the lump in her throat, reached up and wiped the wetness from her cheeks. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Sam didn’t look convinced. His hand covered hers where it rested on the railing, and his touch gave her strength.

“Tell me,” he said softly.

Libby dragged in a shaky breath. “I was twelve years old when my parents died. Marty probably told you that.”

Sam nodded.

“I was devastated. My world fell completely apart, and I-I just couldn’t cope.”

“It had to be a terrible time for you.”

She swallowed. “I couldn’t handle the memories, so I blocked them. Even after I went to the city to live with Uncle Marty, I refused to talk about my mom and dad or the life I left behind. Over time, it got easier just to forget those years ever happened.”

She looked up at him. “And then I came here.”

His eyes locked with hers, dark brown and compelling, as if he really wanted to know her thoughts.

“You were raised on a farm. Marty told me that. I guess in a lot of ways, a ranch is similar.”

She looked back at the horizon, which had lightened to a soft yellow glow. “We had beautiful sunrises in Kansas. It’s not mountainous like Colorado, but I loved living there as a kid. I hadn’t realized how much I missed it until I came here.”

The hand that covered hers gently squeezed. “Maybe that’s why Marty sent you. So you could deal with the past you’ve tried so hard to forget.”

Fresh tears threatened. “Maybe.” Not wanting to look weak in front of him, she pulled her hand away and immediately felt the loss. “I need to go in and help Clara.”

Sam nodded. As Libby turned away, his expression darkened. “What’s that in your pocket? I thought I told you no phones allowed anywhere but your room.”

Her mouth tightened. “I was taking a picture. I didn’t bring my camera. Next time I’ll ask your permission, though I don’t think the sun is going to wait.” She turned to leave, but Sam reached out and grabbed her arm, stopping her before she reached the door.

“I’m sorry,” he said, surprising her. “I should have thought of that. I can’t change the rules, but I can drive you into town, where you can buy one of those disposable cameras they sell at the mercantile.”

Some of her anger faded. At least he was trying not to be a dick. “That sounds fair.”

Sam’s gaze went to her bare feet, and his lips twitched. “You might want to buy yourself a pair of boots while you’re there.”

One of her eyebrows went up. “You’re worried about the camping trip? You don’t think my sneakers will work?”

Sam smiled. He had the nicest smile. “It’s the horseback ride getting there that’s the problem.”

Libby smiled back. “I’ll give it some thought.”

Something shifted in the air between them, heating her from the inside out. Sam’s eyes remained on her face, and Libby couldn’t look away.

Worse yet, she didn’t want to.

Until that moment, she hadn’t realized what a danger Sam Bridger posed. As she headed into the house, Libby vowed not to forget again.

* * * *

Sam thought of the woman taking pictures of the sunrise, and his chest felt tight. He was beginning to understand why Martin Hale had sent his beloved niece to the ranch. Marty hadn’t been able to help her deal with her grief. Sam figured Marty was making a last-ditch effort to give her the gift of her past.

And he had enlisted Sam’s help to do it.

Sam blew out a breath. Unfortunately, Marty hadn’t anticipated the attraction Sam would feel to his niece. Hell, Sam hadn’t expected it, either.

Sure, she was beautiful. Petite and feminine, with miles of shiny blond hair. He wanted to grab a handful and drag her mouth to his, see if those pouty lips tasted as good as they looked. Just thinking about it made him hard.

This morning he had seen her without a trace of makeup, and if anything, she’d only looked more beautiful. At least to him.

He reminded himself there were a lot of beautiful, sexy women in the world, and he had never had trouble attracting a female he desired. He didn’t understand his fierce attraction to this one.

But Libby had caught him completely off guard. He had banked on her being spoiled, selfish, and demanding. He grinned. She was a handful, no doubt. But there was a sweetness to Libby he hadn’t expected. It drew him as no woman had in a very long time.

Sam was man enough to know when a woman was equally attracted. And though they’d been at odds at first, that attraction was growing.

He had to put a stop to it. Martin had entrusted the niece he thought of as a daughter into Sam’s care. Seducing her was out of the question. He sighed as he checked the repair he had made in the fence and headed for the barn.

During the summer, the hands all pitched in to help with the guests. Dare was a fisherman, and he was good. He helped rig the poles and showed the men the best fishing holes on the creek.

Ronnie Yates gave riding lessons. As Sam approached the barn, he spotted Alice and Betty, who looked like silver-haired pixies compared to the muscular African American, and Ronnie looked small compared to Big John. The women seemed enthralled with the horses they had been assigned, an older chestnut mare named Biscuit for Betty, and for Alice, a big red Appaloosa named, aptly, Red.

The two horses were circling the ring while Ronnie instructed the women on their position in the saddle and how to hold the reins. Clearly they trusted him to make sure they would be all right.

Sam glanced around for Libby but didn’t see her, which was good. The less time he spent with her, the better.

* * * *

Finished cleaning Cougar Cabin, which, being the largest, took the most time, Libby picked up the bucket that held her cleaning supplies, grabbed the mop and broom and headed for Wolverine.

The fishermen’s car, an older model faded blue Ford Fusion, was parked in front, but the DO NOT DISTURB sign hadn’t been hung on the door, so she gave it a quick, firm knock.

Max opened the door. He was shirtless, dressed in jeans, his black hair damp from the shower and sticking to his head. He had a hard, sinewy body and a chest covered by curly black chest hair. There were tattoos on his arms, a serpent on one, a skull and crossbones on the other.

“We were just leaving,” Max said. “Come on in.”

Libby stepped into the living room, set the bucket on the floor and propped the mop beside it, then took the broom and started sweeping in front of the iron stove.

The bedroom door opened, and Vince walked out. He eyed her up and down. “Damned shame,” he drawled with a trace of southern accent. “Woman looks as good as you?” He shook his head, moving the stringy blond hair that brushed his shoulders. “You could do a lot better than sweeping floors and cleaning toilets.”

Annoyance trickled through her. “It’s only for the summer. I’ve never been on a ranch, so I think of it as an adventure.” That was total BS, but why she was there was none of his business.

She started sweeping, and Vince moved up behind her. She stiffened at the heat of his big body standing so close.

“If you’re looking for adventure,” he said softly, “I could give you a little thrill.”

Her mouth tightened. She turned, set her palms on his chest and pushed him a few steps back. She was used to men like Vince. They all wanted the same thing. She just needed to make sure they understood they weren’t going to get it.

“Look, Vince. I’m not interested in anything you’re selling, okay? I have a job to do. That’s the only reason I’m here. Max said the two of you were leaving. Once you’re gone, I can finish my work.”

Vince’s pale blue eyes fixed on her breasts, and the corner of his mouth slid up. “I like a female with spunk, so I won’t take offense. You change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Libby gritted her teeth.

“Leave the girl alone,” Max said. “We’ve got things to do. We need to get going.”

The men left the cabin, and Libby blew out a breath. She’d been right about those two. They were more secretive, more unapproachable than the other guests. They hadn’t tried to make friends, just stayed off to themselves. She’d noticed Vince watching her a couple of times, but she was used to that. Now that she’d stood up to him, she figured he wouldn’t give her any more trouble.

Just to be safe, next time she’d make sure they were gone before she went in to do the housekeeping.

Libby made the twin beds, cleaned the bathroom, finished straightening up and left the cabin. She hadn’t done this kind of work since she’d left the farm, but it wasn’t that bad, and it made the time pass swiftly. She hadn’t had a chance to see the miniature goats yet, so she headed in that direction.

As she passed the barn, she noticed one of the stalls stood open and Big John knelt on the straw inside. Changing course, she wandered over just as he was rising, a small blanket-wrapped bundle tucked into the crook of his thick, powerful arm.

“What happened?”

“It’s one of the barn cats. Looks like she ran into trouble last night. Probably a coyote. She got away, but the damage was already done.”

“You mean...she’s dead?”

He nodded, his heavy black braid shifting across his broad back. “I’ll take care of her and the kittens she left behind.”

Libby’s gaze swung to the stall, and she saw a tiny squirming mass in the straw. “Oh my God, she has babies!”

John stopped in the opening, the mother cat still in his arms. “They’re too small to make it. It’s kinder just to get rid of them.”

She dropped to her knees, and her eyes filled as she looked down at the tiny gray bodies. “They just need someone to feed them. I can do it. It won’t be that hard.”

“You’ll be up all hours of the night,” Big John said.

“I don’t care. You can’t just kill them. Please, John, let me take care of them.”

John said nothing, just stood there staring as if he was trying to read her thoughts, then he nodded.

“What’s going on here?” Sam strode up to the open stall door.

Libby put herself between the two men and the kittens. “I won’t let you take them. They deserve a chance to live.”

Big John looked at Sam. “One of the barn cats died. She just had a litter. They may be too small to survive, but Libby wants to try. I said it was okay.”

Sam’s gaze swung in her direction. He must have noticed her mutinous expression. “They’re going to take a lot of work. Are you sure?”

“I’ll take care of them. I can still do my other jobs.”

Something moved across his features. “All right. We’ll all pitch in if you need help.”

“I won’t,” she said firmly.

Sam nodded. “I think Clara has some doll bottles. She’s done this kind of thing before.”

Libby felt a wave of relief. “I just need to get them up to my room.”

Sam found a cardboard box and lined it with straw. They placed the minuscule newborn kittens in the box, and Sam carried it upstairs.

Libby had never really thought about backing out of the conditions of her uncle’s will and returning to New York, but if she had, the kittens would have ended the notion.

They needed her. It had been a long time since anyone had needed Liberty Hale.