A Ranch to Keep

by Claire McEwen

  “You’re right, Samantha. I’m sorry. It’s just that this is a new side of you. I’m used to my practical, efficient Samantha, not this new conflicted one.”

  “Well, maybe it’s a good thing I can still surprise you, right?”

  “If you say so. You know me, I’m not too good with surprises. I’m too much of a planner, just like you are...er...were.”

  She gave his arm a smack, laughing. “Enough! I haven’t changed, truly. I just have a ranch...which feels really weird to say, by the way. I’m still me, just with a bit more property.”

  “Well, I’ll miss you this weekend, but I get why you need to go, I think.”

  “Come with me.” She blushed as soon as the words were out. Why was she acting like a spineless, needy girlfriend? He’d already declined once.

  He stopped, looked down and suddenly his face was clouded and troubled, and Samantha felt even worse. Now she’d made him feel obligated. The last thing she ever wanted was for someone to feel obligated to spend time with her.

  “Mark, I know you’re busy,” she assured him. “Forget it.”

  “I wish I could go with you, Kiddo.” He took her hand as they walked and gave it a squeeze. “I have a lot of work to do, especially since my star employee is disappearing into the mountains again.”

  “No, really, Mark, I get it. It’s fine.”

  “And then Sunday I’m flying to New York, remember? I’ve got those meetings there until Tuesday night.”

  “That’s right. I’d forgotten. No worries, I’ll just go play cowgirl on my own.”

  “That’s my girl.” He leaned over and planted a kiss on the top of her head. “That’s another thing I appreciate about you. You get it. You get what it’s like to do my job and you don’t resent the time I spend at it. In fact, you’re the only person I’ve ever met who probably works even more than I do.”

  She stopped them and put her arms up around his neck. “I’m glad you appreciate all my excellent, understanding-girlfriend qualities.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his mouth, feeling his lips warm and familiar under hers. Instead of kissing her back he looked down at her with a sheepish grin.

  “So, perfect girlfriend, can I ask for just a little more understanding?”

  She smiled. “Don’t push your luck.”

  He gently smoothed back her hair, looking down at her seriously. “I am really, really beat. I know we talked about me staying over tonight, but would you mind if I just went to my place? I think what I need more than anything is a good night’s sleep. In my own bed.”

  Ouch. Samantha took a step back and fixed a smile on her face. She understood him intellectually, of course. There were nights when she was really tired and wanted to curl up alone in her bed, but she hadn’t expected that from Mark. Not tonight at least, after she’d been gone for almost a week. And the previous week he’d been away at a big meeting, and the week before that he’d been really busy as well.

  Karma, her guilty conscience suggested. This dry spell was the universe’s retribution for lusting after her gorgeous cowboy neighbor. She shooed the thought out of her head. Maybe Mark was right. Maybe she was spending too much time with superstitious Jenna.

  “Sure, I get it,” she told him. She took his hand and started walking toward the cabs that often waited at the foot of Market Street. “Rain check, okay?”

  He pulled her close and leaned his cheek into her hair as they walked. “Absolutely.”

  A thought struck her. “Mark? Since I’m the most perfect, understanding girlfriend, can I ask you to be the most understanding boss?”

  “Uh-oh,” he teased. “What now? More time off?”

  “A half day on Friday so I can leave at noon and beat the traffic out of town?” She gazed adoringly up at him, batting her eyelashes in a mock plea.

  Mark smiled. “Don’t you have to get everyone ready for the pitch next week?”

  “We were ready last week. You know I’d never leave something so important until the last minute!”

  “Don’t we have a conference call at two? You know I’ll need you on that.”

  “Two hours will get me through Sacramento and I can avoid the worst traffic jams. At two I can pull over and take the call from wherever I am.”

  “Well, I can’t argue with that. Just make sure you have reception.”

  “Mark, I’m a big girl, remember? The one who’s landed you three huge accounts in the past six months? Not to mention a bunch of smaller clients, too. Trust me, I’ll make sure I have reception.”

  “Okay, sorry. Didn’t mean to patronize. And you know I’m grateful for all those accounts.” Mark stopped and pulled her close, pressing her against his torso. “As well as everything else you do for me.”

  “Does this mean you’re changing your mind about tonight?” she murmured as he bent down to kiss her.

  “Sadly for me, no. Believe me, I want to, but it’s a busy week and I need my sleep.”

  A cab pulled up to the curb near them. “Do you want to take that one?” he asked. Cabs were few and far between in San Francisco.

  “Hang on,” Samantha said and went to the car window. “Can you wait a second, please?” she asked. “Start the meter and I’ll be right there.” The driver nodded his head and set the meter. Samantha turned back to Mark.

  “Hey, I feel bad that I’m leaving again this weekend. Do you want to get together sometime in the next couple days before I go?”

  “If I have time,” he answered. “Check calendars?”

  They pulled out their phones in the familiar ritual, but there was no shared free time in their schedules.

  “I think we should take a vacation together,” Samantha said. “Let’s just get away somewhere warm and relaxing where we don’t have to compare calendars like this.”

  “Sounds great,” Mark answered, with a half smile.

  Samantha looked up sharply, disappointment growing. “Don’t sound so enthusiastic.”

  “No, Kiddo...don’t take it like that! I’m just tired. A vacation would be nice. But we’re both so busy right now. Maybe we can talk about it in a couple of months.”

  Samantha sighed. She admired Mark’s work ethic, but it meant she was going to have to work harder to improve their relationship while closer to home. “You’re right. We are really busy. But what about if, in the future, we schedule each other in first? Then make our other plans?”

  “That’s a big step in modern relationships, isn’t it?” he teased her. She knew when she was being dismissed. Well, he was tired. Maybe tonight just wasn’t the best night to try to make things better between them.

  Mark pulled her in for a last hug and planted a quick kiss on her mouth. “Now get in that cab before I fall asleep right here. I’m tired enough, but it looks like all the doorways have already been spoken for tonight.”

  Glancing around, Samantha could see that he was right. The city’s ubiquitous homeless had staked their claims as soon as the offices emptied of workers. Shopping carts and sleeping bags blocked entries all around them.

  Samantha sighed, feeling the familiar helplessness at seeing so many people in such great need. “Ugh. So heartbreaking, isn’t it?”

  “Sure is. I’ll see you at the office.”

  One last quick hug and Samantha was in the cab. “Scott Street, near Union,” she told the driver, waving one last time to Mark.

  The driver sped off and Samantha sat back in the cab, watching as the passing lights unfolded the character of the city around her. The waterfront flashed by, followed by the tawdry lights of the strip clubs on Broadway. Diners still crowded the sidewalk tables of the busy Italian eateries in North Beach. Samantha caught a brief glimpse of Chinatown’s dragon statues and colorful lanterns before the cab zoomed through the Broadway tunnel and came out flanked by more genteel neighborho
ods.

  Here was the San Francisco that tourists imagined: steep, narrow streets lined with old Victorian houses, complete with cable cars clanking through. Down the hill they passed edgy Polk Street, and then the stately buildings of Pacific Heights rose up. Samantha loved this part of town. It was a predictable oasis to come home to amidst the exotic and changeable temperament of the city she loved.

  As she let herself into her apartment, she saw the candles she’d set out this morning and the bottle of wine she’d left casually on the counter. Disappointment tugged at her heart. So much for her pathetic attempts at seduction.

  * * *

  SUGAR WAS HIS NICKNAME for the quarter horse mare with a mile-long pedigree and the sweetest temperament he’d encountered in all his years of working with horses. She nickered as Jack approached the stall, uneasy with being kept inside on such a fine morning. Jack set his coffee mug down on the shelf outside her door and slid the bolt, laughing as she nuzzled his pockets for a treat.

  “Yep, you’re onto me.” He smiled as she daintily removed the carrot piece from his outstretched hand.

  Jack moved to her side and ran his hand down her right front leg, picking up the foot to remove the bandage and examine the hoof. She’d stepped on something sharp up in the pasture and came in limping a few evenings ago. He’d applied a compress and was giving her a rest in the stall, and it seemed to be helping as she barely favored the leg now.

  “Just a few more days of this and we’ll have you as good as new.” He spoke soothingly to her as he worked, applying the fresh medicine and wrapping new bandages. She nibbled at his jeans and then settled down with a sigh, giving him her weight as she relaxed. As it had in every quiet moment this week, his mind drifted to thoughts of Samantha.

  No matter how many times he replayed their last few minutes together, no matter how often he reminded himself that her message to back off had been loud and clear, he still wanted to see her again. He’d tried all week to focus on the work in front of him, but just when he thought he was done thinking about her, the heat he’d felt between them on the porch, and at the creek, would come back to him. And then he’d picture her smile, the relaxed, warm one. And there it would be. That feeling that he wanted to take care of her. That he wanted to get to know her—all of her.

  Disgusted with this train of thought, Jack loaded Sugar’s manger with hay and left the stall. Grabbing a hay bale, he hauled it out to his truck and threw it in the back for the morning feed. He liked feeding time and today he was grateful to have something else to focus on. Sometimes it was a hassle to be tied to the ranch every day, and have to schedule everything around the needs of thirty equine stomachs. But as soon as he was in the truck, rattling out to the upper pasture, and when he saw the horses’ heads come up and their ears prick forward as they jostled and pranced toward the fence line, the rewards were obvious. He was completely in the moment, his entire focus on his horses. Exactly where it should be.

  All their personality quirks came through at feeding time. The timid foals hung back from the fray while June, the matriarch broodmare, bit and kicked her way up to the front of the crowd. Larry, his gentle-giant Appaloosa gelding stood aloof and dignified off to the side, knowing a special treat was likely waiting for him in Jack’s pocket.

  Jack tossed out the alfalfa hay in scattered piles, making sure June got hers before she could do any actual damage to the younger ones. The horses broke into groups around the hay and Jack reached for the grain bucket and scoop and swung his leg over the rail fence. Making his way from group to group, surrounded by the noise of strong teeth munching, tails swishing and hooves stomping away flies, he delivered the mixture of oats, corn and molasses while at the same time looking over his little herd.

  When the bucket was empty, Jack drew himself up to the top of the split-rail fence and watched the sun rise over the valley below and the early-morning shadows brighten into day. He could smell pine and sage and for that moment it was enough just to watch, listen and breathe in that fine dawn air.

  It had been a good week. He’d learned a lot about mustangs, and had a bunch of aches and pains to prove it. There was a long way to go with them, they were wild to the core, but he welcomed the challenge and the hard work. Anything to stop him from wasting time on thoughts of Samantha Rylant.

  A crunching of gravel under tires had him looking up. Walt was coming up the lane in his blue pickup. Walter knew more about horses than anyone Jack had ever met. He was sort of a legend on the rodeo circuit, where Jack had ridden his fair share. After Jack had bought the ranch, and began leasing some of Ruth’s pastures, he’d gone out to find Walter, knowing he wanted him as his main hand. He’d found him drunk in a bar in South Texas. He’d hauled him out, sobered him up and paid off a few of his debts. Walter had made the bunkhouse on Jack’s property his own and could be found during most of his waking hours puttering happily in the barns or helping to gentle and train the young colts.

  Walt’s truck slowed to a halt and he leaned out the driver’s side window. “Morning!” he grunted, a cigarette stub between his teeth.

  Jack went around to the driver’s side window. “You better stop smoking those damned things, old man,” Jack said half humorously, reaching in and grabbing it out of Walt’s teeth. He threw it on the gravel and ground it out beneath his boot. “They’ll shorten your life and I need your sorry ass around here.”

  Walt gave a wheezing cackle and cuffed him on his shoulder. “My life’s been too damn long already!”

  “No way, you’re not getting off that easily. You still got a lot of work to do around here before you check out. You heading up to the training ring?” Jack asked.

  “Yep. I had Shadow up there yesterday, trying to get him to accept that damn saddle. That colt sure don’t want no one to ride him.” He chuckled softly. “Almost took me out with one of his kicks, he was so pissed at me. But I thought I’d just hang out with him there for a bit this morning, no pressure, see if I can get him to trust us a bit more.”

  “You’ll talk him into it, man. You always do.”

  The older man smiled at the praise. “Well, sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t.” He looked at Jack with a gleam in his eye and he pushed open the cab door, jumping down with a spryness that didn’t reflect seventy years of hard living. He fixed Jack with an impish grin. “Now, I may be old, and my vision failing me, but I saw you sitting up on this fence, staring down the hill at the old Rylant ranch below, and I gotta ask myself, what could make you sit there like that? Especially when you have a horse to deliver this afternoon? You’ve got a mile-long list of stuff to do today, thanks to your spending so much time chasing after wild horses on that fool charity project for Todd.”

  “I wasn’t staring, Walt,” Jack fibbed. “Must be that failing vision you mentioned, old-timer.”

  Walt was indignant. “My eyesight’s better than yours has ever been, and I know what I saw!”

  “And you think that it’s your business?” Jack asked. Walt was glaring at him like a peeved chicken and Jack couldn’t keep from laughing.

  Walt chuckled along with him. But Jack knew all too well that once the old man got an idea in his head he was like a mosquito—wouldn’t let up until he got what he wanted. “I know what’s got you sitting here, pondering. It’s Ruth’s granddaughter you’re mooning after, isn’t it?”

  Jack looked at Walt, not fooled by the innocent expression on the weathered face.

  “What are you getting at, Walt?”

  “Nothing much. Just seems like you’ve been holed up here feelin’ sorry for yourself for three years now, ever since Amy took off on you. Seems like it might be time for you to start living your life instead of spending it on the porch with your dogs every night, drinking beers.”

  Jack stared at the man in shock. “Well, I appreciate your advice, Walt. I guess. But I haven’t heard you complaining when
I drink beers on the porch with you at night.”

  Walt grinned. “Who’s gonna complain about that? You buy good beer.” He leaned against the truck and started to pull another cigarette from the pack in his pocket. Seeing Jack’s face he put the smoke back in the pack and pulled his hat off. He turned it over, staring into it with a philosophical look on his face. Jack waited, amused by his friend’s sudden interest in his love life.

  “Look,” Walt finally said, looking up. “All I’m saying is that there’s no shame in a divorce. Hell, I’ve had a couple myself. But you can’t let one filly, who was half crazy and hell-bent on causing you trouble anyway, knock you out of the saddle forever.”

  “Walt, what the hell are you talking about?” Jack countered. “One minute you’re talking divorce, then we’re back onto horse training.”

  Walt looked annoyed, his glance flinty in the gathering light. He poked his hat into Jack’s chest. “Look, boy. I’m the closest thing you got to family in these parts and I owe you a lot. So I’m gonna tell it to you straight. You let that divorce of yours knock you flat and you’ve been hiding from folks ever since. So I’m just thinking that if Ruth’s granddaughter is spending time next door, and if she’s as pretty as Dan down at the store told me she was, that she just might be the reason you’ve been so absentminded all week. And I say that’s a damn good thing!” Walt spluttered to a halt and stopped, staring down at his hat again, as if he’d run out of steam.

  Jack just watched his old friend, amazed by this turn of events. Usually Walt’s topics of conversation were limited to horses, cattle, rodeos and saddles...in that order.

  “Er, Walt...thanks for trying to look out for me.” Jack thought for a moment, looking out over the hillsides to the distant desert below. Walt’s words stung, which probably meant there was some truth to them. “You may be right, Walt. Maybe it’s time for me to get out more.” Jack clapped Walt’s shoulder absentmindedly and then gave him a cuff on the upper arm. “Now get to work and stop getting all Dr. Phil on me.”

  “Dr. who?” Walt asked, as he opened the door and got back into his truck. He paused. “Just one more thing, boss. Have you asked about her plans for the ranch?”