Free Sweet Masterpiece - The First Samantha Sweet Mystery by Connie Shelton

isn’t so
fierce here,” Beau said. “Out on the bridge you sometimes feel like
you’ll get carried away.”
    It was true. The way the surrounding cliff
walls rose, they were in a sheltered spot and yet the western view
was clear and she could see that the sun would dip to the level of
the distant volcanoes in another hour or so.
    “It’s so beautiful. And quiet!”
    “Get this.” He faced the drop-off and let out
a cowboy whoop. It echoed back, crossed the distance again, and
reverberated off the rocky walls to fill the air with sound.
    “I love it!” Her shriek rang back in
triplicate.
    He sent a musical Laaaaa . . . out over the
chasm. As it began to echo back Sam gave a strong harmonic note of
her own. He raised it. She raised him again. The music that filled
the air sounded like a choir of hundreds. She felt her eyes widen
at the magic of it. When she looked at him, his reaction was the
same. He held her gaze as the sound faded.
    “Wow.” It came out in a whisper. “Do
musicians come out here and do this all the time?”
    He shook his head. “I don’t think so. It’s
our secret.” He reached out and raised her chin and gave her a very
soft kiss.
    She blinked a couple of times. What the—
    He stepped back. “Sam, I’m sorry. I didn’t
intend that—I don’t mean to push you—”
    She shook her head, dismissing the apology.
“It’s . . . it’s okay. It was a special moment.” It meant nothing.
But why were her insides all fluttery?
    He flashed her a killer smile. “Hungry?”
    Oh boy. She wasn’t sure how to answer that
one. Yes. In every possible way.
    But she saw that he’d turned to the picnic
basket and was pulling out a bottle of wine and a little plastic
container. Keep it light, Sam.
    “I’m afraid I’m no gourmet cook,” he said.
“This is just your basic cowboy dinner.”
    Well, hardly, she thought. The plastic tub
contained guacamole dip and he pointed to a bag of corn chips.
“Hold this,” he said, handing her the items while he whipped the
quilt out and brought it to rest on the rocky ground. Then he
rummaged in the basket and came up with a corkscrew. She watched
him study it for a minute and then offered to open the wine if he
would find glasses.
    “Oops. I knew I would forget something.”
    “Hey, I’ve drunk almost as much wine directly
from the bottle as from a glass,” She said. Memories of cheap
Thunderbird and Boone’s Farm.
    To prove it, she tossed the cork onto the
blanket and took a swig. A macho wipe across the lips with the back
of her hand and she offered the bottle over to him. They passed it
back and forth a few times, watching the sun on its downward
course.
    “What else is in that basket?”
    He pulled out an insulated container about a
gallon in size. “Chile—my specialty. Uh, I think I forgot bowls,
though. But there are spoons.” He held them up with a grin that
gave her an excellent picture of what he’d looked like as an eight
year old.
    Sam ripped open the bag of corn chips, took
one and scooped up guacamole with it. “Did you make this? It’s
really good.”
    He blushed a little. “Should I admit that I
found the recipe on the internet? It was the only one that used two
ingredients so I thought I could handle it.”
    “It’s great!”
    “Now the chile—that’s my own recipe. Sorta.
My mama used to make it. She doesn’t cook anymore, so I make it for
her. After I moved to New Mexico I started adding green chile to
it. I mean, you really can’t live here and not eat green chile,
right?”
    They sat cross legged on the quilt with the
Thermos between them, spoons at the ready as he unscrewed the lid
and released a bouquet of meaty, tomatoey, spicy goodness into the
air. They dipped their spoons at the same moment.
    “Ohmygod, that’s good.” Sam had to admit
she’d never had chile that tasty—either in New Mexico or back home
in Texas. A moan escaped her.
    He grinned and went for a second spoonful.
She did the same.
    “Try it