Rodeo Sweetheart

by Betsy St. Amant

  Sam recoiled from the door, dread clenching her throat. She sucked in her breath, and the shadows inside the barn darkened until even the sunlight around her seemed dim. Ethan had been pretending to care for her. The friendship, the chores around the farm, the kiss—all of it was to buy her family’s ranch.

  Ethan started talking, but Jeffrey interrupted him. “You better get your head out of the clouds and start focusing on what’s important. Your business is at stake. I didn’t make you head of the real estate division of Ames Development for you to slack off.”

  The earth tilted toward her and Sam braced her weight against the barn wall. Somewhere behind her, a horse nickered, but it sounded as if from a tunnel. That explained why he’d been so secretive about his job. Ethan had used her. She should have known never to trust him. And after she’d confided in him about her father, and the rodeo—no wonder he tried to talk her out of riding! If she won the prize money, the farm wouldn’t need to be sold. Surely her mother didn’t know what Ethan and his dad were up to. Angie would never keep something like that from her. They were a team.

  Regret rose in Sam’s heart. It wasn’t exactly teamlike of her to keep the secret of the rodeo from her mother. She shoved aside the guilt. Part of her wanted to run to her room and cry, the other part—the survivor part that’d kept her going these years since her dad’s death—wanted to storm into the barn and tell Ethan exactly what she thought of him and his manipulative family. Her fists clenched and the carefully prepared finance plan scraped into her palm. The pain jerked her back to reality.

  “Dad, listen.” Ethan’s voice cut through the barn. “Let me explain.”

  Sam shook her head and she fisted the paper into a ball. Ethan’s words weren’t directed at her, but it didn’t matter. She’d heard plenty. Sam hurled the paper wad at the barn wall as hard as she could and hurried back toward the house, tears blinding her eyes. She wasn’t sure what made her the most upset—feeling naive and immature for not seeing the deception coming, or knowing that the ranch might very well be sold out from under her.

  She swiped at her tears before throwing open the screen door on the porch. Or maybe the reason for the sob in her throat was because any potential relationship with Ethan was now officially gone.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ethan slammed his fist into the stall door and winced at the splinters that scraped his knuckles. He kicked the door then leaned forward, resting his palms against the rough wood. His dad left, finally—but not before giving Ethan an earful. How much longer could Ethan put up with this nonsense? He was a grown man, but as long as he stayed under his father’s roof—proverbially and literally—he’d never break the vicious cycle of lies and manipulation.

  Ethan straightened. Enough was enough. Sam deserved the truth, and he would tell her. He was through with the deception, regardless of the consequences to his checking account, business résumé—and love life. If he had to move clear across the country to find work, so be it—and this time it’d be a career that he wanted for himself, not a job he’d been pressured into by his controlling parents. Too bad the only thing Ethan could picture himself doing was right here in the middle of Texas—about as far from his level of expertise as he could get. But every rancher started out somewhere, didn’t they?

  As for his love life, well, he’d never win Sam’s heart by keeping the truth from her. She might forgive him if he spoke up now. The longer he waited, the faster that door would slam shut and lock.

  Footsteps sounded behind him and Ethan turned. Sam strolled across the hay-strewn floor toward him, angry red blotches spotting her neck and cheeks.

  “Sam? Are you okay?” He held out his hand toward her but let it fall to his side at her violent glare.

  “How dare you?” Her hands shook at her sides and she folded them tightly across her chest. “I heard your conversation with your father.”

  Ethan’s heart landed somewhere near their booted feet. “Sam, let me explain.”

  “No.” She poked his chest with her finger, and he automatically dodged her next attempt. “I’ll do the talking. That way you can’t lie anymore.”

  “I never meant to—”

  “Deceive me? Manipulate me? Kiss me?” Sam scoffed. “I confided in you, Ethan. I told you about my dad, my dreams for this ranch, my fears of losing it.” She squeezed her eyes shut before shooting him another fiery dart of hate. “Fears that have been your goal all along.”

  Ethan cringed. She was right, but not in the way she thought. “No, Samantha, that’s not entirely true. I—”

  “Don’t call me that.” Her voice, low and controlled, shook with audible restraint. “Don’t ever call me that again.” She poked him harder. “And why don’t you take your offer to buy this farm and shove it inside your shiny little sports car on your way back to New York. Because I can assure you, my mother will never sell this place.”

  “Sam, there’s really something you should know.” Ethan grabbed her hand and held on, but she wrenched it free of his grasp.

  “I know all I need to.” Sam turned and strode toward the barn entrance, then paused. “I know I shouldn’t have ever trusted you.” Her figure, silhouetted by the sun, vanished as she stalked outside into the light.

  Ethan collapsed against the stall door and sighed. Wildfire nickered and Ethan rubbed the horse’s shaggy neck. “I’m too late, boy. She’s made up her mind.” Wildfire snorted and Ethan shook his head. “You should know better than me once Sam gets something in her head, that’s it.” He rubbed his watering eyes and drew a shaky breath. Time to pick up the pieces. It wouldn’t be the first time, and unless he left his father’s business, it definitely wouldn’t be the last.

  “I’ll be seeing you.” Ethan patted Wildfire’s nose, then brushed his hands on his jeans as he made his way down the barn aisle.

  Sam pulled the ranch truck into Kate’s driveway and yanked the key from the ignition. Somehow, Sam had managed to make it through the rest of her chores and avoid Ethan. Not that it’d been all that hard. He’d probably gone back to his cabin to mope—and hopefully pack. She shoved away the pang that accompanied thoughts of Ethan leaving. It’d all been a lie. How could she miss that? Yet the memories refused to let her go.

  She climbed from the cab and headed toward the front door. Kate met her on the porch with a sympathetic smile. “You okay? You sounded pretty upset on the phone.”

  “I will be.” Sam lifted her chin and inhaled deeply. “As long as you made more brownies.”

  “Of course.” Kate hesitated in the doorway, then opened her arms. “I think you need a hug more.”

  Sam allowed Kate’s brief embrace, then fell against her friend with a sob. “I trusted him, Kate. I think—I think I even loved him. And now…” Her voice cracked.

  Kate squeezed her harder. “Listen, it wasn’t your fault. You had no idea.” She drew back and ushered Sam inside. “Have you talked to your mom yet?”

  “No, I couldn’t find her all day.” Sam swiped at her eyes as she headed for the kitchen, following the aroma of chocolate. “She’s probably somewhere with that Mike guy again.” Her stomach grumbled.

  Kate plucked a brownie from the pan and put it on a small saucer for Sam. “Have you really thought about all this?”

  Sam shrugged, brownie coating her teeth. She swallowed. “As much as I want to think about my mom dating again.”

  “Not that.” Kate leaned her hip against the counter. “I mean Ethan. Yeah, it looks bad, but don’t forget all the good things he did.”

  Yeah, right. Sam snorted and took another bite.

  “Seriously.” Kate raised her eyebrows. “All his help around the ranch. The dance you said y’all shared at the party. His natural instincts with the horses. It couldn’t all be fake.”

  “Sure it could.” But doubt pierced Sam’s conviction, and the brownie suddenly tasted like dust. Had she been too hasty in judging Ethan? He had been adamantly trying to tell her something in the barn, but in her anger she�
��d ranted and raved and never gave him a chance. The brownie settled like a stone in her stomach and she dropped the remaining bit on her plate.

  “Uh-huh.” Kate crossed her arms. “Whatever you’re thinking, keep heading down that path. I can tell by your eyes you’re considering it.”

  “Why are you so eager for me to give Ethan a chance, anyway? No one in that family seems to have a single redeeming quality.”

  “But you and Ethan really shared something.” Kate pointed her finger as Sam’s mouth opened. “Don’t try to deny it. No more lies.”

  No more lies. Sam briefly closed her eyes. If only Ethan could abide by the same rule. Was it too late? Had she been wrong to verbally attack him that way? Maybe she’d overreacted. Her spine stiffened and Sam shook her head. No, she hadn’t overreacted. But she could at least hear Ethan’s side. Maybe he did know something she should.

  But first, she had to talk to her mom about the sale. She deserved to be warned.

  “Thanks for the chocolate—and the advice.” Sam smiled at her friend. “There’s some people I need to find.”

  “Go.” Kate gently shoved Sam toward the door. “And keep me posted.”

  “You know I will.” She headed back for her truck, her heart lighter even if her stomach felt heavier. The only way to fix this mess was the truth—the entire truth, even to her mother about the rodeo.

  Sam cranked the key in the starter and backed out of Kate’s driveway. No more lies.

  Ethan shoved open the cabin door, noted the empty room and slammed it. He couldn’t find his parents or Daniel—not a good sign. It was early evening, and he’d skipped dinner to avoid Sam and to get a head start on his packing. He’d figured his parents would be around after the meal, but he’d already checked their cabin, the entertainment lodge and the barn. Somehow Ethan had to stop his family from offering Angie a low price because of the termite damage. She deserved the truth, just as Sam did. The news was financially devastating, but it didn’t merit the underhanded deal his father was sure to try and get away with. If Angie would just take the time to do the proper research, maybe call in some favors from locals, they might be able to swing it—especially with Sam’s contribution from the rodeo winnings.

  He stepped outside onto the porch, desperate to escape both his thoughts of Sam and the proximity of the open suitcase on his bed. Ethan had to leave, knew this day was coming two weeks ago, but he didn’t think it’d be under these negative terms.

  Yeah, right. Did you think Sam would give you a going-away party with cake and balloons after you ripped out her heart? Ethan’s conscience mocked him. He squeezed the porch railing. He was lying to himself now. Maybe the Ames family manipulation gene was too far buried in his DNA. Maybe it was hopeless to even try to be different. God, do I even stand a chance? The breeze rocking the branches of a nearby tree was his only answer.

  Across the field, the front door of the main house opened and Jeffrey Ames descended the rickety porch steps, pausing at the bottom to shake Angie Jenson’s hand with a big smile. Ethan sucked in his breath, noting the bundle of papers in both his dad’s grip and Angie’s.

  He was too late.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Sam quickly threw on her jeans and the nearest T-shirt by her bed. She couldn’t believe she’d slept through her alarm, and on the same morning she wanted to try to find Ethan before starting the morning chores. She wrestled her feet into her boots, hoping it wasn’t too late. After leaving Kate’s house yesterday afternoon, she’d unsuccessfully tried to hunt down her mother to confess her rodeo plans. Former rodeo plans, anyway—though unless she worked out a deal with Ethan, Sam was financially back at square one.

  But Angie had remained MIA and it wasn’t until nearly dinnertime Sam remembered her mom said she’d be going into town for the day to talk to a few local banks. Sam had tried Ethan’s cabin next, but he and Daniel had been out—or more likely—Ethan was still avoiding her. And rightly so, after the way she’d railroaded him. Sam still wasn’t sure how they’d get past this bump in their developing relationship—no, make that a giant pothole—but the love gasping in her cracked heart demanded she try.

  Even if it was impossible.

  Sam thundered down the stairs into the kitchen. Clara looked up from baking, her usual bright smile absent.

  “What’s wrong?” Sam’s stomach pitched and she paused at the foot of the steps.

  Clara motioned her head toward an envelope lying on the table. “Jeffrey Ames left this here over an hour ago. Said it was for your mother.” She turned back to her dough but peeked at Sam over her shoulder. “I could tell from the bold print through the envelope what was inside. I’m sorry.”

  Sam trudged toward the thick white envelope lying on the wooden surface, and plucked a thick stack of papers from inside. She picked up the handwritten note with a shaky hand.

  Ms. Jenson,

  Business matters insisted we return to New York at once. Please find the attached check for our stay. Everything was just as you described it. I’m sorry the recent termite discovery changed our initial offer on your property, but rest assured you are still making the right decision. Please sign and return these sale papers at your earliest convenience.

  Sincerely,

  Jeffrey Ames

  Ames Family Real Estate

  Sam’s heart skipped, then thudded twice against her chest. Initial offer? Her mother knew who the Ames were this whole time—and accepted a bid to buy the ranch? Sam grabbed the papers, the bold word CONTRACT taunting her from the first page. Her hands trembled and she dropped the papers back on the table as if they might burn her skin. Betrayed by the man she loved and her own flesh-and-blood mother. Who else was keeping secrets from her? And what termite damage existed on the ranch? Her world rocked on its axis and Sam steadied herself against the table.

  “Again, I’m so sorry.” Clara’s soft voice punctured the thin wall temporarily damming Sam’s emotions.

  Sam stifled a cry with her hand. “I’ve got to go.” She grabbed the truck keys from the hook and raced out the back door, her mind a spinning blur. Her mom didn’t have enough faith in them to get through this tough time financially, didn’t believe Sam when she told her it would work out, and now, apparently didn’t even trust Sam enough to let her help make a decision as important as selling the family farm. All this time Sam thought she and her mother were a team, when in reality, her mom had only seen Sam as a child.

  The door slammed behind Sam as she jogged toward the truck. How dare Ethan! He not only kept the truth about his family’s occupation and came to the ranch intending to buy it out from Sam, but he knew that Angie was in on the whole thing and never told her. How foolish Sam must have looked, talking about how close she and her mother were and how she wished Ethan could have that same relationship with his father. Now Ethan was gone, and with him the last remnant of hope that they’d shared something special.

  Sam jammed the truck into gear and squealed down the driveway, dirt and gravel mixing into a thick cloud that floated through the open window. She coughed. Ethan obviously didn’t need her, and she refused to need him. Even if the ache in her heart never went away.

  She steered the truck toward town and angrily swiped the dust from her face. She’d show them both. She’d save this farm on her own, starting with officially entering the rodeo. She still had time. She’d practice the rest of the week and hope that Cole’s training, her exercises, and own sheer determination would be enough to succeed.

  A tear tracked down her cheek and Sam brushed it away with her sleeve. She didn’t need her family, or Ethan. Riding for her dad’s honor and knowing that she’d finally earned the title of Rodeo Sweetheart for him would be all she needed.

  That, and maybe a heart transplant when this was all over.

  Ethan hated the stiff shirt collar around his neck, hated the phone ringing incessantly in his office, even hated the gleaming, spotless mahogany desk. But most of all, he hated the sick feeling in his s
tomach that hadn’t budged an inch since leaving Appleback, Texas, a week ago.

  He slapped the disconnect button on the telephone and dropped into his rolling chair. Usually the supple leather was a comfort, but today the smell only reminded him of the tack at Jenson Farms—soon to be yet another strip mall—and the horses he’d left behind. Who ever thought Ethan Ames, corporate real estate executive to a competitive firm, would miss an animal? Especially one that was three times his size and stank more often than not?

  The only thing hurting Ethan’s stomach worse than the new hobbies he’d abandoned was imagining Sam’s face when she found the letter his father left with the cook, Clara—and the accompanying paperwork.

  “Ethan.” Daniel stepped inside Ethan’s office, his hands plunged into the crisp pockets of his navy suit. “You gotta snap out of it, man. I told you I was sorry for scooping you with your dad.”

  “Scooping me?” Ethan stared in disbelief. “You think I’m upset because you told my father about the termites first?”

  Daniel shrugged.

  “You don’t get it. You never have.”

  “I’m sorry!”

  “I know. But that doesn’t change anything, does it?” Ethan stood, refusing to give Daniel even an inch of ground. “Innocent people still got hurt. A family ranch still will turn into a mall, and the woman I love—” His voice faltered.

  Daniel’s eyebrows shot up. “Love? I had no idea it was so serious.”

  “That’s because you never think of anything but your own motivations.”

  Daniel rocked back on his heels, his brow furrowed.

  “Just forget it, okay? It’s too late.” Ethan rubbed his temples with his fingers, turning his back on his cousin. He didn’t particularly want to see the view of the city from his office window, hated the reminder of how much he had and how little Sam did—but it was better than looking at Daniel any longer.