One Last Kiss by Kat Martin

Chapter Eight

As soon as breakfast was over, Libby ran upstairs to change into her riding clothes, pulling on the jeans she had bought at the mercantile, which were snug but comfortable, the boots Fran had assured her wouldn’t hurt her feet even the first time she wore them, and a pale yellow Western shirt with pink roses embroidered on the yoke in back.

The final touch was the straw cowboy hat Fran had insisted she needed as protection against the sun. She grinned as she looked in the mirror. Not bad, she thought, for a city cowgirl.

She grabbed the small overnight bag of necessities she had packed from the list Sam had given each guest and headed out of the house.

The horses were saddled and waiting, along with three mules to carry the supplies. Sam had explained that he would ride in front while Big John rode at the back of the group, leading the pack string. She spotted him talking to his foreman, Julio Santiago, who was staying behind with the rest of the hands to handle the cattle and any ranch problems that might come up.

So far Libby had managed not to think about what happened with Sam in her bedroom last night. It was just a moment of weakness because of the kitten, she told herself. It didn’t mean anything. But dammit, why did the man have to look so incredibly hot this morning?

Just the way he carried himself turned her on, his shoulders so straight, his strides so relaxed and confident. In his dusty straw cowboy hat, khaki T-shirt, snug jeans, and worn boots, he looked as if he’d just stepped out of a city girl’s Western fantasy.

Libby hated him for making her want him all over again.

His eyes raked her from head to foot as he walked up, taking in her hat and boots. The look in those intense dark eyes said she wasn’t the only one who remembered last night.

“You ready?” he asked, his eyes carefully fixed on her face. Libby knew she looked good. Score one for her.

Pasting on a smile, she tipped her head back to look at him from beneath the brim of her hat. “Which horse is mine?”

Sam pointed to a little palomino mare with the sweetest long-lashed brown eyes she’d ever seen. “That’s Sunshine,” he said. “Most of the others have ridden at least once or twice since they got here, so they’re ready to go. I wish you’d had the chance, but you don’t need to worry. Sunshine’s good-natured and easy to handle, and you’ll be riding right behind me.”

Oh, lucky me!She could watch his broad back and tight buns all the way to the top of the mountain.

“You were raised on a farm,” Sam said. “You know how to ride, right?”

“We used to have a couple of horses, but it was a long time ago.”

“I’m sure it’ll come back to you, but I can give you a quick refresher course.”

Sam walked her over to Sunshine, who turned a patient look in her direction.

“All you have to do is grab the horn, stick your boot in the stirrup, and swing up into the saddle.”

She bent to the task, saddle leather creaking as she settled herself in the seat.

Sam adjusted the position of her boot. “Stirrups are just about right.” He lifted the reins over Sunshine’s head. “She’s got a soft mouth, so keep your touch light. You remember how to use the reins?”

Surprisingly, she did. And sitting on a horse again felt good. Really good.

He smoothed a gloved hand down Sunshine’s sleek neck, and she remembered his palm kneading her breast. A rush of heat hit her that had nothing to do with the warm sun and everything to do with how good he’d made her feel.

Sam rested a hand on her thigh, then hastily jerked it away. “Just relax and have fun, okay?”

Ignoring a fresh rush of heat, Libby focused on the day ahead. She had decided to make the best of the situation. Other people were there to have fun. She wasn’t going to spoil it for them.

Or so she thought until she saw Max and Vince come out of Wolverine Cabin and walk toward them.

“I thought they were staying behind to fish,” Libby said.

“They changed their minds at the last minute and decided to join us. Fishing’s always good up at the lake.”

Libby said nothing. But as the men walked past, she felt Vince’s pale eyes skimming over her, and a chill slid down her spine. Max nudged Vince toward the barn, where a pair of bay horses stood saddled and waiting.

Sam tied a bedroll on the back of Libby’s saddle, took her overnight bag and packed it in one of the mule panniers. According to Sam, each side of the box had to be weighted exactly right in order to keep the load from shifting and creating a problem for the mule.

* * * *

“Everybody’s mounted and ready,” Sam said. He swung up into the saddle of a sorrel quarter horse with a thick chest and bowed neck and turned to give her a last reassuring glance. “You have any kind of problem, don’t be afraid to let me know, okay?”

Libby nodded. “Okay.”

“Let’s go.”

They set off single file, with the Dunbar family on the trail behind Libby, Caleb looking nearly as comfortable in the saddle as Sam. The perky black horse Caleb rode had plenty of energy, dancing from side to side and tossing his pretty head. Jordy and Suzy followed, grinning from ear to ear, Jenny smiling as she rode behind them.

Betty on Biscuit and Alice on Red were clearly enthralled. Kim and Brad Hillman mostly grinned at each other, barely noticing the spectacular scenery. Max and Vince rode in silence. They didn’t look particularly happy to be there, but maybe their attitude would improve once they reached the lake.

Big John led the pack string, three mules plodding along in a line tied together with a length of rope. The riders made their way along the main ranch road, then turned onto a trail across one of the pastures. Clusters of curious Black Angus watched them; then Sam dismounted and opened a gate, and they headed up into the hills.

Libby shifted in the saddle, but it didn’t take long to get familiar with the roll and sway of the horse, and she found herself relaxing. It was hard to admit, but she was glad she had come. If she didn’t have to look at the broad shoulders and narrow hips of the man in front of her, the dark gold hair that curled over his collar beneath the brim of his hat, she might have thought the day was perfect.

By lunchtime, she wasn’t so sure. Her legs and bottom were aching, and sweat trickled down the back of her neck. She was working up the courage to swing down from the horse when she felt Sam’s big hands wrap around her waist and lift her down to the ground.

Pain traveled up her thighs, and Libby inwardly groaned. Sam smiled, and she wanted to hit him.

“You’ll get used to it,” he said. “If you walk around a little, your muscles will loosen and some of the stiffness will ease.”

He walked off to help Betty and Alice, but they had been riding in the arena next to the barn every day. Libby had been sure she could talk Sam into letting her stay back at the ranch. Now she was paying the price.

Eventually, the ache in her legs and behind began to fade. She took one of the sack lunches and sat down on a log next to Jenny, a cool breeze ruffling Jenny’s light brown hair.

“Where are the kids?” Libby asked.

“Caleb took them for a walk. The two weeks we spend up here is like heaven for him.” She sighed. “If he hadn’t married me, his life would have been completely different. Sometimes I feel bad about that.”

“Caleb loves you and the kids. You can see it every time he looks at you. Maybe someday you’ll find a way to give him his dream, and both of you will be happy.”

Jenny smiled. “We’re saving for a weekend home in the mountains. We’ve almost got enough.”

“That’s wonderful.”

They chatted as they each ate one of the thick ham-and-Swiss sandwiches Clara had packed, along with an apple, a carton of orange juice, and a chocolate granola bar.

Sam walked up when they’d finished. “If you need to make a pit stop, there’s an outhouse on the other side of the clearing. I’ll see you back here in fifteen minutes.”

“We better go,” Jenny said, rising. “We might not get another chance till we get to camp.”

Libby reluctantly followed, thinking how much easier it was for men out here in the middle of nowhere. She and Jenny joined the other women in front of the wooden outhouse door. When her turn came, she held her breath and fought down her gag reflex.

“Not exactly the Ritz,” she grumbled as she walked back outside.

Next in line, Betty laughed and disappeared into the wooden shed.

As she started back toward the horses, Libby spotted Vince on the other side of the clearing. He was looking over his shoulder at her as he urinated in the grass behind a tree. He turned so she could see that his fly was open, his dick in his hand.

Heat rushed into her face. Libby turned away and kept walking. She thought about telling Sam. He’d be furious, she was sure, but if Sam confronted Vince, anything could happen, and she didn’t want to ruin the trip for everyone else.

Besides, she’d known Vince was a dick. Seeing it just proved the point. She grinned. In her line of work, men often made fools of themselves. No way was she letting an asshat like Vince Nolan get to her.

Besides, she wasn’t really afraid of him. Uncle Marty had insisted she take a self-defense class in Manhattan. She wasn’t particularly good at it, but she’d passed the course. If Vince pressed her again, maybe she’d get a chance to use what she had learned.

She smiled at the slim possibility the moves she’d learned would actually work.

Making her way back to the horses, she pulled out the half of an apple she had saved for Sunshine, held her hand out flat, and let the horse pick it up.

Sunshine chewed the treat and gave a soft whiffle of thanks. Libby swung up in the saddle, ignoring a twinge of pain. She ached in places that had never ached before, and once they got to camp, there would be chores.

And it was only day one. Libby groaned as Sam settled into the saddle of the big sorrel in front of her, and they headed up the trail. She wanted to curse Uncle Marty.

Then they reached a turn in the trail, and she looked down at the lush green valley below and the tiny speck that was the ranch house and found herself smiling instead.