A Grand Teton Sleigh Ride: Four Generations of Wyoming Ranchers Celebrate Love at Christmas (22 page)

The memories lashed at him, reminding him to put all thoughts aside of Ann as more than a client. When she disappeared behind a boulder, he shoved from the tree he’d been leaning against and hiked over. Might need to assist her down and make sure she didn’t take an unexpected tumble. Sam climbed over the larger rocks, the roar of the falls filling his ears long before he could get close enough for the mist to leave his face damp.

On her knees, Ann bent down and ran her fingers through the crystal-clear river. In that moment, leaning over to caress the river surging from the falls, Ann appeared more graceful than any creature he’d ever seen.

“I love that you always take me to the waterfalls. I understand why.” She glanced back at him and smiled. “Isn’t this the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

“Yes.”

Ann got to her feet and swiped at the knees of her breeches. She blew a stray hair from her face and glanced at the sky then back at Sam. “I’d better get busy.”

A slight frown tugged at her smile.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, following her back to the horses and her camera equipment.

“Ah, Sam, you know me too well already.” Her hand on the saddlebag, she turned to face him. “I’ll need to head home sooner than I wanted, if the snow is going to come so soon this year. Getting in and out of the valley won’t be fun if I wait too long. Nor can I risk getting snowed in. I …”—she averted her gaze—“I don’t want to leave.”

Sam’s chest constricted.
I don’t want you to leave
. But she referred to the beauty and grandeur of the Tetons, and all the places he’d shown her. He wanted with all his heart to reach up and cup her cheek. When she glanced back at him, her soft brown eyes searching, Sam did just that.

Her skin felt silky against his rough palm. “And I’ll miss you, but at least you have your photographs.”

What are you doing?

Ann’s gaze took in his face, settled on his lips, and sent Sam’s heart into his throat. He leaned closer, and in his head a church bell tower rang its warnings. Not the right time, place, or thing to do.

And to his great pleasure, Ann met him halfway. That was all the invitation Sam needed. He covered her mouth with his, gently, tasting her sweet lips, wanting to wrap her in his arms, but he restrained himself. He cupped her cheeks instead, savoring this moment, wanting to tuck it away and keep it with him forever.

A young elk leapt from the trees, crossing their path and disrupting the moment. Ann stepped back, leaving Sam to drop his empty hands to his side, but only for a moment. He stiffened, wondering what had set the creature running, and hoping they hadn’t gotten between the elk and a group of hunters.

“Oh, I’d love to take a photograph!”

Something big crashed through the woods behind them. Sam grabbed the reins of both horses. “Get on your horse.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

“Just do it.” He kept hold of the reins in case the horses got spooked and tried to run, speaking in reassuring tones to the animals. Watching the tree line for movement, he pulled his Winchester from his saddle scabbard and quickly chambered it, glad he’d opted for a bigger caliber weapon than his .22 varmit rifle.

A grizzly crashed through the trees after the elk. Focused on getting his prey, he didn’t see them. Sam held tightly to the reins when Ace and Gracie grew antsy. Pulse roaring in his ears, he needed to harness his own emotions. Sam didn’t think he’d need to use his rifle, since the bear disappeared.

“Oh my,” Ann said. She’d managed to pull her camera out and was attempting to catch what she could. “That’s not something you see every day.”

“Definitely not. This time of year they feed on whitebark pine nuts, roots, and berries. Rarely see them chasing elk unless it’s a young calf in the spring. They’ll eat carrion, or winterkill animals, though. Young or old, and injured. That elk looked a little too healthy to me.”

“Winterkill?”

“Animals already dead due to a hard winter.” Sam climbed into the saddle.

Ace trembled beneath him, and Gracie whinnied. Ann did a good job of soothing her.

“We should leave now,” Sam said.

“But I haven’t taken photographs yet. I don’t think I got a good shot of the bear.”

Sam scratched his chin, weighing the situation. She trusted him to guide her and keep her safe. While it was common to see bears when you trekked through the wilderness, the sight of that six-maybe seven-hundred-pound hungry creature unsettled Sam, and the horses could sense his fear. “I know. We’ll come back before you have to leave, I promise.”

What are you doing making promises, Sam?

“I trust you to know best.” She smiled, though he read disappointment in her eyes. “Something else I’d like to do before I leave is photograph the Covington Ranch. Take pictures of you and your family, the cattle and horses.” Ann twisted to stick her square camera back into the saddlebag. “I can’t thank you enough for your generosity.”

“Don’t tell me you thought my mother would have it any other way?” He grinned, urged Ace forward, leading Ann back to the valley, his eyes and ears alert to the danger brought with the grizzly. His heart alert to the danger brought on by his growing feelings for the woman photographer from back East.

For the rest of the day, Ann had not been able to stop thinking about that moment when Sam had kissed her. The way his hands gently cupped her cheeks and the feel of his lips against hers, as though he truly cherished her. How she had wished for him to put his arms around her—but they’d been interrupted by wildlife, no less. The bear crashing through the woods had been exciting enough but hadn’t shoved thoughts of the kiss aside.

That evening, Ann headed down the stairs after cleaning up, her thoughts lingering on the kiss they’d shared. She was grateful they’d returned in time to enjoy dinner with Sam’s family. In the higher elevation today, she’d gotten chilled to the bone and couldn’t seem to warm up enough, so instead of putting on her usual dinner attire, which consisted of one of the dresses she’d brought, she donned a pair of her denim breeches. She was growing fond of dressing this way.

Loosely holding on to the banister, she descended the steps, taking in the aroma of roasting beef and fresh baked bread, and listening to the laughter and voices of a family who loved one another.

Pausing on the stairs, she savored the moment, soaking it all in.

Over by the stone fireplace, Sam regaled his father and brother with the tale about their near run-in with the grizzly—not so unusual to see bears, but chasing an elk this time of year set the men on edge. They argued over bringing the errant behavior to the national park ranger’s attention, expressing concern over their cattle. The discussion launched into whether to drive the cattle or ship them over the pass now. Though the debate had grown serious, she could hear the deep respect and love in the men’s voices.

Regret found its way to her bones, just like the chill from this afternoon. Regret of not having a close-knit family, like Sam had. She wasn’t sure she’d ever had that, even when her mother was still alive.

“Good evening, Ann.” Belle called to her, breaking her from her melancholic thoughts.

Sam’s mother smiled at Ann from the long dining table where she set places for seven people. Belle fed the ranch hands, too, until they could replace their cook who’d quit and gone to California.

“Evening.” Suddenly aware of the pause in conversation and everyone’s eyes upon her, Ann descended the rest of the way. “I had hoped to be down soon enough to help. Let me finish setting the table for you.”

She grabbed a dish from the stack.

Sam appeared by her side. “And I’ll bring in the stew,” he said to his mother but stared at Ann.

“Thank you.” Belle squeezed Sam’s arm, and he followed her to get the stew.

John joined Ann at the table and started helping set the places. Ann wished it were Sam instead. John’s wife, Lucy, had left to visit her family in Idaho until John came to get her.

She glanced across the room to see Zeb Covington cleaning a Winchester rifle—was that the same one Sam had carried today? She didn’t miss that he studied her from beneath his thick brows. John reached for another plate, and it clanked, jarring her back to the moment. Sam appeared, carrying a big steaming pot of stew.

During supper, Ann sat between Sam’s mother and father, and across from Sam, John, and two of the five ranch hands filling the rest of the places. Sam’s father, John, and three of the hands would take the cattle to be shipped over the pass to Victor this week, it was decided. As if to put an end to further discussion on the matter, Mr. Covington asked Ann about her photographs.

His questions told Ann that he now respected what she did, and the approving look he gave Sam said even more. Sam even sat a little taller. She had a feeling this was only the beginning for him. Ann couldn’t help but compare this evening to the rare family time she enjoyed with her sister, father, and Marilyn—the woman who’d become her stepmother. And with Tom—that is, before she’d broken off her engagement.

Life in Manhattan couldn’t have been further removed. The culture, the people, and lifestyles were worlds apart. Ann had wanted to escape, but she hadn’t known then just what she was escaping.

She hadn’t known then how this valley would capture her heart. Or how the people would affect her. Or how this family would mean so much to her. Suddenly dishes and teacups rattled and the floor trembled beneath her feet. The table shook and Mr. Covington held it steady.

Ann’s heart thundered in her ears. “What’s … what’s happening?”

Sam reached across the table and put his hand over hers, until the shaking finally settled and then stilled. “Just a tremor. A small earthquake.”

“Are you all right, dear?” Belle asked.

Sam released her hand.

“How often do you get those?” Ann had never experienced an earthquake, even a small one.

The family chuckled around her.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Sam said, watching her intently. “Weeks could go by, months even, between events. I promise there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

The look in Sam’s intense blue eyes told her that he needed her to believe him. But why?

The next morning, Ann rode with Sam into town, the road bumpy and uncomfortable. He suggested they take a rest from trekking through the backcountry today. She could photograph the ranch while he went to Jackson for supplies, but she had a few things she wanted in town as well.

Sam swerved the truck back and forth, eliciting laughter from Ann. She’d never had such fun with Tom. To think Sam seemed to appreciate her as a photographer, too, taking interest in all the photographs she’d developed. He understood her reason for coming here, her need to prove herself.

Once in town, Sam parked and got out and ran around to open the door for Ann. “I’m heading to the grocers first. You mentioned wanting to purchase some more riding clothes, so why don’t you go to the mercantile, and I’ll join you in a bit.”

“You think I’ll take longer than you?” She sent him a teasing grin.

With a chuckle, he ushered her toward the sidewalk and tipped his hat to her as they parted ways. She loved it when he did that.

“Wait for me there,” he said. “I won’t be long.”

A warm smile that chased the chill away spread through her as she meandered toward Jackson Mercantile, just across the way. She wanted to purchase a few extra shirts and breeches for her sister. Not that she expected Edith would ever wear them, and if she didn’t, Ann found the clothing comfortable. Part of her wished she didn’t have to leave, even wished for an early winter. That heavy snow would come and keep her in Jackson a little longer, even if that meant she wasn’t home when Daddy returned from his honeymoon.

All she knew was that if she left now, she’d never again see Sam Covington. An unpleasant thought, indeed. When she paid for her purchases, Sam still hadn’t come for her, so she exited, deciding to wait outside.

From up ahead, a familiar and unwelcome voice startled her.

The cowboy tumbled out of the Jackson Hotel, wearing big purple chaps and laughing boisterously with a few other dudes of the same ilk. Ann suddenly felt conspicuous in her own western garb, though she rather blended in than stood out.