Free Cowgirl Up! by Carolyn Anderson Jones

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.
     

Chapter Thirteen
     
    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.
     
    Sam’s mom used to fret about her parents and worried that cholesterol was going to clog their arteries. She tried to convert them to better eating habits, but gave up eventually. You can’t win a battle like that with people who buy their cooking oil at Sam’s Club in