LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER TWO

      JUST PAST the highway sign for Benson, population five hundred seventy-five, another weather-beaten sign read Blue Water Mercantile-Groceries, Beer, Fishing. Under the letters, a painted and peeling fish jumped out of faded water with a smile, holding a beer can in its chipped fin. The local store beneath the fish looked the same as it always had, just smaller and lower, as if it was retreating into the earth. It had been years since she’d been here, but she still remembered climbing down from Grandpa’s truck, holding on to his strong hand and hurrying him indoors to get a popsicle or a soda.

      An old pickup was parked in front of the store and a man in a battered cowboy hat was leaning on the cab door, talking on a cell phone. As she pulled her car up to the curb, Samantha caught a glimpse of long legs in faded jeans, broad shoulders in a plaid shirt and white teeth that flashed when he talked. A perfect, modern Western scene, she thought, taking in the contrast of the cowboy, the old truck and the cell phone.

      She smiled to herself. The sight of a good-looking man in a cowboy hat in San Francisco generally meant one thing—he was not interested in women. Out here that stereotype might not apply, and she couldn’t help but glance again at the stranger, appreciating his silhouette. Then she remembered Mark and turned away with a stab of guilt. The last thing she should be doing was looking at another man when she already had a boyfriend—even if that boyfriend hadn’t been around much lately.

      Samantha crossed the small parking lot and reached for the handle to pull open the glass door of the shop. She jumped, startled, as a much larger hand swooped over hers to pull it open for her. “I got it,” said a deep voice in her right ear, and she recognized the navy plaid shirt on that long arm and knew it was the same man she’d seen in the parking lot. Glancing up to voice her thanks Samantha froze, her breath caught in her teeth.

      Tall, she thought incoherently. He’s really tall. Her gaze slid down to a wide chest underneath faded flannel. Everything else was just a series of impressions—a silver belt buckle, lean muscle, fair skin tanned to gold, dark blond hair that was a little shaggy under the hat, curling a bit at the collar. She looked up quickly and met blue eyes with a brilliance in them that caught the light. Dark honey lashes surrounded them, thick and long. He looked like a man who spent plenty of time out in the elements. There were creases from sun and smiling etched on his angular face. Samantha hadn’t known a man could be so beautiful. She just stood there like a fool, staring, trying to remember how to breathe.

      The cowboy regarded her with a wide grin, as if he knew just what she was thinking. Then he took a long, slow look at her before saying “You’re not from around here, are you?”

      It took another attempted breath to get her heart beating again. Glancing down at herself she saw what he saw...the long, black pencil skirt, the high, spiked heels on her boots, the chunky gold ring on her hand, the black cashmere sweater. She was definitely not dressed for life in a small mountain town.

      With an embarrassed smile tugging at her mouth, she forced herself to look up at those eyes and act as if they weren’t paralyzing her. If her friend Tess were here, she’d have the perfect, appropriate-yet-sexy reply, not this vast blankness that had taken over her mind.

      Finally she managed, “Nope, I guess not,” and pushed past him into the store, hoping he couldn’t see her heart pounding through her sweater. She heard him laughing softly as he closed the door behind them with a clang of the bell.

      Samantha grabbed a basket. This was ridiculous. Losing Grandma Ruth must have destroyed her confidence. She shopped at the Marina Safeway, for crying out loud, the most notorious singles pickup spot in all of San Francisco! She was used to fending off men asking for cooking advice in the pasta aisle. Back home she brushed those men off easily, but walking to the back of the dusty store, she felt the cowboy’s glance lingering on her and just prayed she wouldn’t trip and fall.

      Samantha heard him greet someone at the counter. She forced herself to focus on her shopping.

      Everything about the store brought back a memory. She smelled the unforgettable combination of dust, firewood and the faint odor of the bait sold out of the freezer in the back. There was the ice cream case, and the small section of toys. And in the air there was something she hadn’t felt in years—the peace of childhood summers, solidity and home. Tears prickled for what must have been the twentieth time that day and she blinked them back quickly. She was an emotional wreck, one moment running out of Ruth’s funeral, the next lusting after some random guy in a cowboy outfit, and now missing her grandparents so much it hurt! Disgusted

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