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.”