Isabella pointed to a bracelet. “Look at this. Isn’t it beautiful? Did you see it’s a John Grayhawk original? He makes such gorgeous Indian jewelry.”
Sam looked at the unique silver and turquoise bracelet with a delicate silver bear hanging from the clasp.
“It’s stunning. What’s the starting bid?”
“Only $100 and I’m putting my name down.”
“Good luck.” Then Sam noticed a watch with a band of silver horse’s right next to the bracelet.
“Now this is more my style. What’s the bid on this?”
“That starts at $75. You should bid on it. It fits you.”
It was different and charming so Sam put her name down on the opening bid.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, dinner will be served in 10 minutes so please find your way to your table. The silent auction will be open for another hour so you can watch your items. We will let you know five minutes before it closes so you can make any bid changes,” announced one of the volunteers.
Sam headed toward the dining room with Isabella and looked for her parents. Her mom was easy to find in her elegant blue cocktail dress chatting with some other board members with her dad at her elbow. Her mom stopped talking when she spotted them and waved them over.
“Right here, sweeties. I have you sitting at our table.”
They sat down by their name cards and a hostess quickly came up and filled their wine glasses with a Colorado Cabernet.
AS PEOPLE FILTERED in and found their places, Isabella and Sam sipped their wine.
“Well, well. Looks like I get to sit by the Champagne Princess,” remarked Cheyenne as he pulled his chair out and plunked down next to Sam.
Sam wanted to crawl under the table and hide, but instead managed to calmly drink her wine and smile. All of her hard yoga work was finally paying off. Or maybe it was the wine.
“Hi, Isabella. It’s been a long time.” Cheyenne grinned at her friend across the table.
“Hey, Cheyenne. It has been a long time. I hear you’re still at the Lazy W.”
“Yep, been there over seven years now.”
Dr. Maxwell Chandler came up and sat down next to Isabella.
“Hello, Samantha. I don’t know if you remember me, Max Chandler, the doctor who treated your dad when he dislocated his shoulder.”
Sam was surprised to see the doctor, but then she saw her mother staring at them with a big smile on her face. Her mother had done it again. Now she knew why Cheyenne and Max were there.
“Hi, Max,” Sam said turning her attention on him. “It’s nice to see you again. This is my best friend, Isabella Ramirez.”
Isabella turned and smiled at Max.
Have you ever seen a child’s face when he saw a gigantic sucker in a candy store, or Santa Claus at the mall? That’s exactly how Max Chandler looked when he saw Isabella. He was smitten. Sam was afraid he would stop breathing and might pass out from lack of oxygen, but she didn’t worry. Isabella knew CPR.
Max took a deep breath and smiled back at Isabella. That broke the ice and they started some small chit-chat. Sam was glad they were hitting it off, but that meant she was stuck with Cheyenne. She raised her wineglass to her lips and gave him a subtle look. Okay, so maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.
Sam’s mom and dad came to the table and sat down. Then Sam’s mood turned cold like a wind from the north as Marietta and Lance appeared at the door and headed for the table right next to them. It was way too close for comfort.
Marietta and Lance were major supporters of the riding center and made sure everyone was aware of their grand entrance. Sam only hoped that Marietta wouldn’t notice she was sitting at the table next to her.
Lady Luck wasn’t with Sam that night. It only took a moment before she could feel an arctic blast and turned to see Marietta glaring at her. Sam smiled sweetly and waved a finger at Marietta just as her mom turned to say something to her. She quickly dropped her hand. She didn’t want her mom to see which finger she was using to wave with, but she suddenly felt tons better.
The volunteers started serving dinner and with all the happy supporters at Sam’s table, the conversation was cheery and upbeat. By the time they finished dessert, and after a glass of the superb Colorado Cabernet, Sam forgot Marietta was at the next table. It was a little harder to forget that Cheyenne was sitting next to her. She could tell she was going to need a lot more wine or yoga breaths to get through this evening.
“Five minutes before the silent auction ends,” announced a volunteer.
“Excuse me,” Sam said. “Isabella and I have some auction items we need to check on.”
After drinking a flute of champagne and a glass of wine, Sam was feeling a buzz and so was Isabella. They both headed for the auction room to look at their bid items.
“
Aye, que vida!
” Exclaimed Isabella. “Marietta Wilson put down a bid of $400 on that bracelet. No way can I top that!”
Sam looked at the bracelet-watch. “Well, I guess we’re both out of luck because Marietta put a bid of $500 on my watch and no way I can top that either. She probably doesn’t even want the jewelry. She just wants to make sure we don’t get it. Oh, well. It’s more money for the center so let’s go and have another glass of wine.”
“Works for me!”
They headed back to their table and Sam sat down as a volunteer refilled her wineglass.
“Did you win your auction items?” Cheyenne asked.
“No, the Wicked Witch of the West outbid us both. I think she did it out of spite, but it doesn’t matter. The real winner is the center.”
A jazz band started playing and Cheyenne turned to her.
“Feel like having a dance with an old friend?” he asked.
Sam hesitated a second. Dancing meant being
really
close to Cheyenne. Could she handle that? She took a big gulp of wine to settle the butterflies in her stomach before answering. “So, after all these years are we calling a truce?”
Cheyenne held his hand up. “Truce. You have my solemn vow.”
“Then I would love to,” she answered and smiled back.
Sam turned and saw Isabella and Max heading for the dance floor. Cheyenne got up and pulled her to her feet. When he grabbed her hand she felt an electric shock go through her body. She was pretty sure he felt it too.
A young woman came up to the mike and started singing a soft, bluesy song. The lights dimmed as the singer filled the room with sexy vibes and mellow tones with her low husky voice. Cheyenne pressed his hand against Sam’s back and pushed her close to him as they moved with the slow beat of the music.
“You look absolutely beautiful tonight. Nothing like the soaking wet Dr. Kendrick I saw covered with cow dung the other day.”
Sam looked up and gazed into his eyes. Cheyenne brushed his hand across her face and tucked some wisps of hair back as he looked down at her mouth.
“That was not one of my better days,” Sam answered. He was making her nervous. This was not the same skinny little kid she had bumped heads with in school. He was all grown up, mature and totally delicious. She could handle grown up and mature. It was the totally delicious part she was having a problem with.
Cheyenne looked at her a moment longer and then pulled her closer. Sam could feel his warm breath on her cheek as they danced. She could also feel his body moving next to hers. Her brain went numb. She was trying to block the commando thing out of her mind, but it wasn’t working.
Oh shit, I’m in trouble, Sam thought as she felt the familiar tingle of a nervous rash work its way up her body.
The music continued from one slow song to another and then into a string of sensuous saxophone solos. Cheyenne didn’t seem in a hurry to end their dance, which was fine with Sam. She no longer had the ability to think or feel. Well, except for Cheyenne’s body rubbing against hers. She could still feel that.
“You can relax now.” Cheyenne breathed in her ear. “Lance and Marietta left the dance floor so we won’t be brushing into them. Looks like they’re having an after dinner cocktail at their table.”
Sam felt like she was waking up from a foggy dream. “Who?” She asked blankly.
Cheyenne laughed softly as his cheek nuzzled hers. “Never mind. I don’t want to break this spell.”
But the spell was broken when Mitch came up and tapped Cheyenne on his shoulder. “May I break in?” He asked. “I’d like to have a dance with the vet who saved
Brio
.”
“Sure,” said Cheyenne. Sam could tell he wasn’t happy with the interruption. Mitch grabbed her hand and smoothly stepped in.
“Thanks doc,” he said. “I know I’m only the lowly volunteer help, but I had to have one dance with you and thank you for saving
Brio
. He’s one heck of a stallion. It was a shame that
Brilliante
was too far gone to save.”
Mitch’s comment about
Brio
brought Sam back to reality and she studied his smiling face. Could he be the one she heard on the cell phone? Somehow she didn’t want to believe that this pleasant young man who was graduating in a month from vet school could intentionally kill off horses with such a painful death. Sam smiled back and could feel her rash subsiding. With Mitch’s friendly chatter in her ear, Sam was slowly composing herself and she could feel her heart rate going back to normal.
THE SONG ENDED and Sam thanked Mitch for the dance. She headed back to her table to grab her purse and wrap. It was getting late and the crowd was thinning. Sam looked for Isabella and her parents as she moved toward the exit. Cheyenne was nowhere in sight but Sam found her mom and dad by the check out table and stopped to say goodbye. Isabella was talking to Max close by.
Marietta and Lance were talking to two men at the door and Sam recognized one as John O’Connor. She could tell the conversation wasn’t going well. Marietta’s face was red and her voice was getting louder.
“Now listen you two,” Marietta said through clinched teeth. “You don’t get it, do you? We have the right to sell our land to anyone we want and you can’t stop us. You have plenty of land for open space, you environmental whackos, so back off and leave us alone!”
Marietta grabbed her purse and stomped out of the hotel.
“Gentlemen, this conversation is over,” Lance said quietly. He picked up their auction items and obediently followed his wife out the door.
“That woman is the queen of stomp,” Isabella told Sam coming up to her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone stomp as much as she does.”
Sam wanted to forget about the Wicked Witch of the West. With a gleam in her eye she whispered in Isabella’s ear, “I’ll have the valet get your car. Then you can say good night to Max.”
Sam stopped to give her parents a hug goodbye and then headed for the door. It was strange, she thought, how Cheyenne had suddenly disappeared. Sam reached the valet counter, handed in her ticket and waited outside while they went to retrieve Isabella’s car. She was swaying to the soft music drifting through an open window when an arm circled her waist and turned her around.
“You didn’t think you were going to get away without saying good night to me, did you?” asked Cheyenne.
Without warning he leaned down and kissed her hard on her lips.
“Thanks for the dance, doc. Let’s get together and I’ll take you on the ride of your life. Horse back ride, that is.” He grinned and walked away leaving Sam totally speechless.
The next day was Sunday and Sam didn’t have to work. It had turned cool during the night, so she snuggled up under her grandma’s old comforter and went back to sleep.
Later in the morning she got up and went into the kitchen and made a pot of coffee. The kitchen held scents of cinnamon, vanilla and nutmeg - ghosts of dishes from the past when her grandma was alive and did a lot of cooking. Being an ol’ southerner from Texas, Sam’s grandma was naturally a great southern cook. Sam remembered coming in from school every day and feasting on her teacakes with a glass of cold milk. Her grandma was always cooking. It’s what she did best. Fried chicken, fried catfish, chicken fried steaks and gravy were staples in her and grandpa’s diet. Her grandma fried everything. And she could make the most fantastic desserts, like bread pudding with rum sauce, lemon meringue pie and chocolate cake. Low fat wasn’t in her vocabulary. Neither was Equal or Sweet & Low.
Sam’s mom, on the other hand, did not inherit her parent’s love for fatty foods. Plus, Sam’s dad had high cholesterol so her mom was always watching his diet.
Sam remembered growing up on baked, broiled or grilled meats, which were mostly chicken and fish. Red meat was eaten maybe once a week. In the mornings, while Sam was eating granola and yogurt for breakfast, she could smell fried eggs and bacon coming from her grandparent’s kitchen. If she had time, she would sneak over and grab a piece of bacon before heading off to school. Sam usually ran into her dad doing the same thing. It was heaven.