A Ranch to Keep

by Claire McEwen

  “Well, Benson has never been really developed as a vacation destination the way that Mammoth has. The potential here is enormous! Your property, with the lake, and the direct access to the mountains and the highway, could really transform this town.”

  Samantha sipped her wine quietly, absorbing his words for a few seconds, looking at Rob’s eager face. The timing of this was amazing. Just this morning she’d realized she should put as much distance as possible between her and Jack. And this afternoon she’d been so torn between the demands of her job and what she wanted to accomplish around the ranch that she was starting to accept reality. She needed to sell the ranch soon. And now, magically, Rob was here and wanted to make an offer. But the ranch as a vacation destination? It was one thing to imagine it as a bed-and-breakfast, but as a resort?

  “Rob, I’m not sure what I want for the ranch yet. But I do know that I will likely have to sell it at some point,” she told him. “It’s the practical thing to do.”

  His smile was understanding. “Well, yes, it is. I can only imagine how overwhelming it must be to take on such a huge property. Especially when you already have a full-time career in San Francisco.

  “But a resort, Rob? I’m just not sure.” The waitress brought her wine and Samantha took a grateful sip of the crisp white.

  “Well, I suppose you could call it a resort. But certainly in this area we would do something on a much smaller scale than Mammoth. The point is, we’re interested in buying at a very competitive price.”

  There was a knot in her stomach that she didn’t understand. This could be a great opportunity for her. Why did it feel so stressful? “I’d need to consider my decision carefully,” she reminded him.

  “Of course you would, Samantha. Your grandma liked to tell me how smart you were, and I trust you won’t make any moves without being certain. I just want you to know that even though I am representing a group of buyers, I’m still your lawyer first and foremost, and I will keep your best interests in the forefront of all our dealings.”

  “Thanks, Rob.”

  “And on that note, just keep in mind that you should do what’s best for you. Your grandmother loved you like a daughter. And she knew you well, right? She couldn’t have expected someone like you to want to live out in the middle of nowhere on a ranch.”

  Samantha nodded in reluctant agreement. She’d already broken three fingernails today and had not been happy about it. She’d fallen off a ladder on her first attempt to do real work around the place and she was lucky she hadn’t broken her neck. “No.” She sighed. “I don’t see how she could have expected me to run a ranch.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what. I’ll put a proposal together and send it to you.” He paused as their meal was served. “No pressure. You can look it over, see what you think. Then we can talk again after you’ve had a chance to consider it.”

  Samantha felt the tug in her stomach again, and a small flutter of panic. Things were moving awfully fast. But she was too practical to walk away from what could be an extraordinary opportunity. “Sure,” she answered. “It’s just difficult to think about letting it go.”

  Without warning, Rob leaned across the table and covered her hand with his. His hand was cool and soft, the nails manicured and neat, and she instantly contrasted it with how Jack’s hand had felt earlier: work-roughened and strong. “I want you to know how much I respected your grandmother, Samantha. What she left you will give you security for the rest of your life. I believe that’s what your grandmother would’ve wanted for you.”

  “Samantha, I hope I’m not interrupting.” Samantha jumped at the sound of Jack’s voice above her. The cowboy hat was gone. His hair was stylishly mussed with a bit of gel, and his face was clean-shaven. He looked ridiculously handsome in clean jeans and a blue linen shirt. His eyes were the same deep, intense blue, but with a harder edge as he glanced meaningfully down at her hand, lying frozen under Rob’s.

  Wrenching her hand back, Samantha straightened up and tried to control the blush flooding her cheeks. What must he be thinking of her? Earlier today she’d told him she couldn’t kiss him because she had a boyfriend, and now, a few hours later, he found her holding her lawyer’s hand in the local restaurant? She summoned her confidence, drawing on that cool strength that served her so well in tough meetings at work. “Why, Jack Baron. You do clean up well.”

  “Why, Samantha Rylant, I can say the same about you.” He gave her a questioning look and turned to Rob. His smile disappeared completely. “Robert Morgan, it’s been awhile.”

  “You know each other?” Samantha forgot her manners in her surprise. Then she realized. “Oh, of course, the lease on the ranch.”

  “Yes, the ranch,” Jack confirmed, but Samantha was sure she heard hostility drip from his voice when he continued. “The whole east side of these mountains is like one small town. We’re all bound to cross paths eventually. Robert and I have met a few times now.”

  “You might say that,” Rob confirmed, but he looked so uncomfortable that Samantha wondered what the real story was. Clearly these two men weren’t fond of each other.

  Jack smoothly changed the subject by turning to a couple that had just walked up to the table. “Samantha, meet Jed and Betty Watkins. They own the ranch just to the south of us. They’re old friends of mine and kindly agreed to come out on the town with me tonight.”

  Jed was a large man, gray-haired and portly, in a plaid shirt, dark jeans and shiny dress cowboy boots. “Pleased to meet you, Samantha,” he said, holding out a hand the size of a dinner plate. He shook hers warmly and moved aside as his wife stepped up. She was all smiles and plump dimples as she reached out and kissed Samantha on the cheek.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Samantha! I knew your grandmother and she used to love to tell stories about you. And Jack’s talked so much about you already this evening that I feel like we’re old friends.” Silence fell over the group as they digested this information. Jack looked down at the floor, then away out the window—anywhere but at Samantha.

  Samantha decided that she liked Betty very much, if only for the reason that finally it was Jack who was blushing and not her. “Well, it’s been interesting to make Jack’s acquaintance and it’s very nice to make yours,” she said. “My grandmother mentioned your name many times, Betty. I know she valued your friendship. But I suppose we should let you all get on with your meal. I hope we meet again soon.”

  “Oh, I’d like that,” Betty replied effusively. “Why don’t you come on up to the ranch for a visit next weekend? We’re having a barbecue that Sunday. A few friends are coming, so you could meet some of the folks that live around here.”

  “Be careful,” Jack warned. “When she says a few people she really means the whole town.”

  Betty giggled and gave Jack a little punch in the ribs. “Don’t listen to this one. Just come on over around one o’clock. The Hidden Mountain Ranch out on Aspen Creek Road. Jack can bring you if he behaves well enough tonight to be invited.”

  Samantha flashed a conspiratorial grin at Betty. “Well, I won’t count on his company then. I’ll just have to find my way over without him.”

  Betty hooted with laughter and Jed let out a guffaw, clapping Jack firmly on the back.

  “Samantha, I like you already!” Betty exclaimed. “You make sure and come on over. I’ll leave you to your meal then.” She turned to go and the men followed, Jack shooting one more questioning look at her as he walked away. It was only then that Samantha realized that neither Betty nor Jed had even acknowledged her lawyer, who’d been sitting quietly at the table during this exchange.

  “Well, I see you’re getting to know the locals,” Rob said as she sat back down.

  “Just a little.” She sipped her wine, trying not to think about Jack, and what he must be thinking of her right now. “They seem nice enough.”

  “Sure
they are, if you like talking cows and weather.”

  The note of resentment in his voice had Samantha glancing up at him, studying his face for a moment. Behind the charming demeanor she thought she caught a glimpse of something hard. Anger?

  He interrupted her thoughts with an engaging smile. “Tell me about this amazing job you have in the big city.”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to think too much about her job right now, especially considering the amount of work left to do by Monday. “Well, it keeps me pretty busy,” he answered.

  She couldn’t help it. She glanced over to where Jack was sitting. He was watching her over the rim of his glass of red wine. His gaze was steady on her and she swore she could feel it like a heat on her skin. She shifted in her chair. Jack’s brows were drawn together. Was he concerned, or maybe a little angry?

  She turned her attention back to Rob and somehow managed to keep it there for the rest of their meal. As they paid their bill and got up to leave, she kept her head high and gave Jack a casual wave across the restaurant, making sure to laugh at a comment Rob made. That would show Jack, she thought—though she wasn’t sure what exactly she hoped to show him.

  * * *

  AT THIS MOMENT, one of the things Samantha appreciated the most about San Francisco was that she could be certain there were no pine trees lying in the driveway of her apartment building. And if a tree ever did have the audacity to fall down within city limits, there was a crew of people in orange vests and white hard hats who miraculously appeared to chop it up and carry it away before it could really inconvenience anyone. Samantha looked around her driveway hopefully, but it was just her, and it was Sunday evening and a pine tree was blocking her way home.

  She got out of her car and pulled on her wool coat against the wind that was racing down the mountains and was most likely responsible for the demise of the poor tree in her driveway. Her hair whipped in every direction and she tried to tuck it into her collar.

  Samantha walked to the tree and tugged at one of the branches, hoping to slide the trunk to the side of the road. She pulled harder, throwing her weight backward. The tree wouldn’t budge.

  She turned to the broken limbs scattered across the gravel drive. At least she could take care of those. She pulled them over to the grassy verge between her driveway and the pastures that bordered it. Stacking the branches neatly against the fence, she went back for more, a little dismayed to find pine sap stuck all over her fingers. So much for the nail polish she’d carefully applied a few hours before.

  She checked the time on her watch. Earlier, Mark had called and asked her to meet him for late-night drinks at the San Francisco airport, before he caught the red-eye to New York. She wasn’t going to make it on time unless she thought of a way to move this tree.

  Maybe it could be rolled. Samantha stood in the driveway with her back to the wind, scraping sap off her wrist and trying to think. Inspiration struck and she ran to her car and opened the trunk, taking out the jack. Running back as best she could while heading downhill on gravel in four-inch heels, she wrestled the jack under the tree. Inserting the handle, she cranked hard and was thrilled to see that the heavy pine was lifting. She stopped when the tree was several inches off the ground and grabbed it by some of the thicker branches, lifting and pushing until it rolled off the jack and slid about a foot down the hill.

  Samantha was triumphant. She was not helpless on this ranch. With a few tools, she was absolutely capable on her own. Picking up her jack, she lowered it, slid it under the tree trunk again, cranked, and shoved. But this time, as she heaved the tree forward, the jack slid backward, hit the ground and broke into several pieces.

  Why was this happening? Samantha picked up a broken bit and threw it out of sheer frustration. It landed against the pasture fence with a sound that the afternoon winds quickly tore away. She needed to see Mark. She missed him. She needed to kiss him, to remind herself that she had a boyfriend, to wipe away the memory of Jack’s lips on hers. A glance at her watch showed her she only had a few more minutes until it would be impossible to keep her date. She had to think hard and move quickly.

  A few years ago, she’d bought a preassembled emergency backpack for her car. She’d never actually opened it, but this felt like an emergency of sorts. She unzipped it and rummaged through and was rewarded by a length of rope. Peering at the rear bumper of her car, she saw a spot where she could thread the rope through and tie it.

  Hopeful once more, she got into the sporty BMW, reversed up the driveway to the house, turned around and reversed back down. Jumping out of the car, she tied one end of the rope to her bumper and the other to the tree trunk. Running back to the driver’s seat, she slammed the door, put the car into gear and accelerated up the driveway. The wheels spun on the gravel and the engine groaned and suddenly there was a sound, sort of a metallic, tearing, crashing noise that boded no good.

  Samantha slammed on her brakes, stopped the engine and jumped out, heart pounding. What she saw brought tears to her eyes. The tree had moved. A little. But her bumper was tethered to it, lying in the gravel. The only good news was that the tree was now at an angle across the drive. There might be enough room to maneuver the car around it if she was careful.

  Cursing everything about the ranch, Samantha stomped over to her bumper and yanked at the knot until it was free. She moved her luggage to the backseat and heaved the battered bumper into the trunk. It didn’t fit well so she tied it in and used more rope to tie the trunk down as much as it would close. The slam of the car door as she pulled it shut behind her echoed through the hills but she didn’t care. She was angry.

  Her foot hit the accelerator hard and she gunned the car up the driveway again, turned around one last time, and drove slowly down to where the tree was angled across the road. She steered right, aiming for the narrow spot she’d created between the tree and the hillside, while trying to avoid the drainage ditch that ran along the edge of the driveway. She rolled down her window and peered out. Trying to keep the tree from scratching the BMW’s paint, she inched down the driveway.

  Samantha knew it was silly to worry about scratches when she’d already decapitated her bumper, but so much had gone wrong, and she wanted to get this one thing right. And she almost did. The front wheels got past the tree. She was peering behind her, trying to keep an eye on the back end, when the car gave a jolt and the back right corner dipped suddenly down. As she slammed on the brakes she heard a scraping noise that could only be the bottom of her beautiful car on the rocks that lined the drainage ditch. Shutting the engine off, she rested her head on the steering wheel. It was clear that she wasn’t going to make it to her date with Mark. She grimaced with bitter humor. At least she could honestly say she’d made every effort to be there.

  Grabbing her phone she sent him a text to cancel, citing car trouble, which seemed too mild a phrase for the mess she’d made in her driveway. She sat in her tilted car, cursing the drainage ditch. She wanted so much to be on the road right now, headed back to the city where she knew how to handle any problems that came her way.

  Finally, out of words and energy, Samantha opened her car door and heaved herself out of the driver’s seat. She turned around to look at her once-beautiful car, now battered and pathetic, with one corner down in the ditch and the bumper sticking out of the trunk like a flag of surrender.

  And she really did have to surrender. She’d tried to improve things with Mark and now she was missing their date. She’d tried to handle the tree by herself and ended up half destroying her car. There was only one thing left to do and she really didn’t want to do it. With angry tears welling in her eyes, she turned and walked back to the house and up the path to Jack’s property. It was time to ask for help.

  As she approached the top of the hill, a border collie appeared and peeked over the rise at her, barked twice and disappeared. When she got to the top Jack had arrived to mee
t her, a leather tool belt slung around his hips and a pair of pliers in his hand. It was obvious Samantha was interrupting a project.

  “I’m sorry to bother you,” she started, shoving windblown hair out of her face for the millionth time in the past hour.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he answered shortly. He looked at her face more closely and concern sharpened his features. “What happened? Are you all right?” He had no hat on, and the wind was blowing his hair on end. His eyes were a fierce blue as he waited for her answer.

  “I’m okay. Sort of. I...I need your help. There’s a tree down in my driveway, and I hate to admit it, but when I tried to deal with it I made a bit of a mess.” That was a triumph of understatement.

  Jack grimaced. “I bet I know which one. It’s been dying for a while. I thought about taking it down last fall, but it’s not on my land.”

  “I wish you had. In the future you have my permission to chop down anything that looks like it might block my driveway.”

  His answering smile was warm and eased Samantha’s anxiety and frustration a bit. Jack stepped forward and reached for her hair and Samantha wondered for an instant if he was going to kiss her again, but he instead he removed a twig. And then some loose pine needles. And what looked to be a small piece of pinecone.

  “Thanks,” she said, too tired and disheartened even to blush.

  “Hey, it’s going to be fine.” He was too close. When he was serious his eyes became slate blue and she could see perfectly the dark brown lashes that rimmed them. She shouldn’t want so badly for him to kiss her again.

  A sudden strong gust of wind hit them and sent her hair flying everywhere. Jack grinned and stepped back and Samantha looked up at the sky. The afternoon was turning to evening and dark gray clouds were appearing over the mountains.

  Jack followed her gaze. “We better get you out of here or you might hit that storm when you’re trying to get home over the summit.”