“What’s going to happen to the house if you don’t get it all cleaned up this weekend?” he finally asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. This house has been closed up for years. So what if you don’t get the whole thing clean now? The house doesn’t care, and the dirt sure as hell doesn’t care.”
Samantha gave him a surprised look. “But I care,” she blurted out.
“Why?” Here it comes, he thought. She’s going to tell me that she’s found a buyer.
She looked at the house, obviously searching for an answer. Her voice was shaky when she spoke. “I know it’s stupid.” She reached up and swiped at her eyes. “I know it won’t bring her back. It just feels like if I take care of what she loved, if I tend to it, she’ll be okay, she’ll be at peace.”
That wasn’t at all what he’d expected to hear. Jack felt a lump rise in his throat at the heartache in Samantha’s voice. He came up behind her, wanting to put his hands on her shoulders and lean her against him. Instead he stopped and clenched his hands to keep them from reaching out. “Ruth’s gone, Samantha. You’re not going to make all the sadness go away by cleaning everything.”
Her laugh was part sob. He went on, trying to say what might comfort. What might allow her to give herself a break.
“The day I met Ruth, she spent most of our time together talking about you. She loved you, Samantha, a lot more than she loved this ranch. So why don’t you tend to you for once? Look at yourself. I’m not trying to be rude, but there are some pretty big shadows under your eyes and you’re really pale, I’ll bet you’ve barely slept all week.” He lost the battle with his self-control and his hands went to her shoulders, automatically rubbing the knots of tension that he found there. “Come riding with me. Come take care of yourself for a day. Let the house be.”
She turned toward him suddenly, buried her face in his T-shirt and clung. He paused in surprise for just a moment, then wrapped his arms around and held her while she shook, her tears soaking into his shirt. He pulled her closer and found himself murmuring words into her dark hair, aimless words to comfort and reassure. The tenderness he felt astounded him, her usual strength and composure making this moment of weakness all the more precious.
When she stopped shaking she was still for a few moments, as if startled to find herself in his arms. When she pulled away he silently handed her the faded orange bandana from his pocket. Her face was pink and flushed as she took it from him.
“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” She dabbed at her eyes. He wanted her to look at him, but she didn’t, so he wrapped one arm around her shoulder and gave what he hoped was a friendly, lopsided hug.
“I guess you needed that.” His arm felt her absence as she pulled away.
“Yes, I guess I did. Sorry you were caught in the flood.” He smiled at that. He was getting to like the dry humor that lurked under her polished exterior.
“No problem. I’m a really good swimmer.”
Her face warmed and she touched his shirt, wet on the shoulder. “Well, it’s a good thing, because you got soaked.”
Jack glanced at his watch. It was growing dark and he needed to get back to help Walter finish the feeding. He walked over to finish painting, surprised that she didn’t protest. She watched him, silently, leaning on the porch railing, obviously lost in thought in the violet shadows of the dusk. He put down the last stroke and stood up to face her, trying one last time.
“So, how about it? Can we take a ride to the lake tomorrow? Let the house and the work wait a day?”
Samantha gave him a long look, and he looked right back, challenging her to say no.
“Okay,” she finally answered. She took the paint can from his hands and gave him a wan smile. “I’ve had the worst week and I deserve some time off. What time do we saddle up?”
“How about nine o’clock? And bring a bathing suit. It’s supposed to be warm tomorrow. Maybe we can get in one final swim before the real fall weather shows up.”
He went down the porch steps and took one last look at her, a pale wraith in the gathering dark. “Are you all right, Samantha?”
Her voice was firm and resolute in the dark. All traces of tears had been brought under her fierce control. “I’m fine. Jack. Thanks for everything.”
He turned and started up the path toward home, squinting in the darkness to see the twists and turns. This path is kind of like life, he mused as he picked his way over rocks and roots. You never know what’s around the corner, you just kind of peer ahead and try your best not to trip when the bumps come.
An hour ago he’d come down this trail all pumped up to talk about selling the ranch, expecting to find the strong and poised Samantha he’d been butting heads with since they met. Instead he’d found her sad and lonely and trying so hard to be brave. And now he didn’t want to talk real estate. All he wanted to do was comfort her and put a smile back on her face.
Hopefully a trip to Lake Beautiful Ruth tomorrow would bring her some happy memories and take away the pain he’d seen in her eyes tonight on the porch. And once she was feeling better, well, maybe then he’d feel better about asking to buy the ranch.
CHAPTER TEN
SAMANTHA EXAMINED the bags under her eyes in the mirror—suitcases, more like it. There’d been way too much crying last night. Here she was planning to ride the range with a gorgeous cowboy and she had eye luggage.
She rinsed the washcloth in cold water again and wrung it out, holding it against her puffy eyelids, trying to get the swelling down. The cool cloth was momentarily soothing but her unruly thoughts betrayed her as the endless questions filled her mind. What did Dana have that she didn’t? Why had Mark cheated? Why had he lied for so long? Tears welled up, ruining whatever de-puffing she’d accomplished and Samantha threw the cloth into the sink.
The third day since “Babygeddon,” as Jenna had dubbed it, had been the worst so far. Two days ago Samantha had been too hungover from the previous night’s scotch to care much about anything. She’d curled up on her couch with a blanket over her and stared blindly at daytime TV, slept, and watched the comings and goings on the street below her window. Mercifully, her mind had taken that day off. Yesterday had been about getting out of town. Packing, closing up her apartment, getting some groceries and driving with the music blasting had distracted her from most of her unruly or painful thoughts.
The trouble started when she’d seen the graffiti. Once she’d started crying she couldn’t stop. As soon as Jack had left, she’d gone inside for another huge cry and this morning the tears just kept coming.
Maybe the initial shock about Mark had worn off, because now she just felt dumped. She’d opened her eyes this morning and it had hit her like a wave to the face, crashing all over her, leaving her stranded on some depressing shore. She’d been cheated on and dumped and there was no escaping it.
Samantha wiped the tears off her face with her sleeve and ordered herself to stop crying. She thought of Tess, the strongest, most independent woman she knew. Tess never let a man get under her skin. Maybe her advice the other night was a good idea. Maybe having a fling with Jack would get this thing with Mark out of her system. Jack might be from a different world, and there was no hope for a future with him, but he was gorgeous and he was nice....
Samantha tried one more time with the cold water. She layered on sunscreen and some makeup, though no amount of concealer could truly disguise her puffy eyes. She rummaged through the duffel of clothes she’d brought and pulled out a tiny bikini that she rarely had the courage to wear. It wasn’t Tess’s trench coat, but it just might do the trick, assuming she could gather up enough shreds of her self-confidence to make a move.
Shoving it in her pocket, she tore down the stairs to the front door before she lost her nerve. Grabbing the big bag of coffee she’d brought Jack
from San Francisco, she started up the path to his ranch.
Outside in the brilliant sunny morning, Samantha was glad she’d found the strength to pull it together. She climbed up the path feeling like every step took her farther away from San Francisco and Mark.
When she got to the top of the hill, Jack was nowhere to be seen. She’d only been here once before, that windy evening last weekend when she’d had to ask for Jack’s help with the pine tree and her stuck car. But she’d been so upset, and so embarrassed that she hadn’t looked around at all.
The path had brought her to the edge of Jack’s driveway, covered in the same crushed gray gravel as hers. To her right was Jack’s barn. The old wood, weathered gray in most places, with some faded red patches here and there, made the vast building picturesque. Despite its age, it was obviously well maintained. The huge, wide doors were open and she could see that it was light and airy inside, with stalls on either side of a central walkway of packed earth.
About fifty yards ahead of her, and off to the left, was Jack’s house. She could only see part of the back and one side, but what she saw amazed her. She’d been expecting an old clapboard farmhouse like her grandparents’. Or maybe a more suburban, low-slung ranch house. Whatever she’d imagined, it certainly wasn’t this.
The house was modern, but built from the bounty of the mountains. The stone foundation and river rock chimney contrasted with the deep honeyed browns of the logs used for solid walls. It looked like it had grown from the timber and rock of the mountains it nestled against. Arched windows ran from floor to ceiling adding grace to the design. The windows faced away from the mountains on this side, allowing a view across the valley floor to the hills and high desert beyond. It looked like something out of a magazine.
“What do you think?” Jack was standing beside her, a couple of halters over his arm.
“It’s lovely. Really.” How did you feel someone else’s skin, apparently radiating electricity, six inches away from yours? She took a step away. “It’s unexpected. Did you build it?”
Jack smiled. “I wish I could say I did. I had it built. Though, I did have a lot of input into the design.”
Samantha studied him for moment trying to reconcile this new Jack who’d helped design a beautiful, modern house, with the cowboy she’d thought he was. “You’re not much like I imagined you to be when I first met you,” she told him.
“I’m going to take that as a compliment, since I’m not sure you had a great opinion of me when we first met.”
Samantha laughed. “Well, you did give me a bit of a hard time.”
“And I think you judged me a bit, right, Frisco? Your hick neighbor rancher?”
“Oh, maybe, just a little,” she confessed with a grin. “And speaking of going against stereotypes, here’s your coffee, as requested. San Francisco’s finest.”
Jack took the bag from her and bringing it toward his face, inhaled. He put an expression of stunned ecstasy on his face and staggered around as if in a daze of delight.
“You’re silly!” Samantha said, laughing. His goofiness was endearing.
“It’s great coffee and I will think of you, and that poor old pine tree, every time I savor it.”
“Yes, I saw all the wood stacked in the shed. Thank you. I still think I got the best side of that deal.”
“I think we’re even.” Jack pulled out one of the coffee sacks and pointed to the label. “See? It says it right here. Fair trade.”
Samantha laughed again. “I don’t think that’s quite what they meant when they put that on the label, Cowboy!”
Jack grinned and tucked the bag of coffee under his arm. “Hey, it’s my mission to make you smile today, however I can.”
Her cheeks flushed at the memory. “I’m really sorry I cried all over you last night.”
“I’m glad you felt like you could.” He handed her a halter, lightening the mood. “Ready to go riding?”
“I think so.” Samantha took the halter and started walking up the driveway by Jack’s side. She hoped she wouldn’t fall off the horse, or do anything else humiliating as she usually did when in Jack’s presence. But today felt different. Maybe it was because she’d cried all over him yesterday, or because he’d been so kind about her pine-tree-versus-car smackdown, but she felt so much more at ease with him this morning.
Jack led her up to the higher pastures, and it was beautiful. Pure air filled her lungs and the grass rolled gently upward, always upward, dotted with granite boulders, until, in the distance, it became a tumble of rocks and aspen trees. The grass was almost knee-deep and was dotted with a few wildflowers, lingering since summer.
Near the far edge, horses were grazing, their muscles rippling under shining summer coats as they foraged. The vast landscape around her pushed Mark’s betrayal into perspective.
Jack let out a shrill whistle and heads came up. A chestnut broke away from the group, white socks and a white blaze down the center of her face giving her a jaunty air as she trotted toward them. She stopped a few yards away and tossed her head as Jack approached her. He murmured a few quiet words to her and she settled, allowing him to run his hands over her coat, ruffle her forehead and put the halter on. He turned back to Samantha, and caught her watching him.
“Do they all come when you call?” she asked, though she’d been concentrating on the way his hands looked so capable slipping the halter on.
“Just Apple, so far. And Larry sometimes, when he suspects I have a treat.” Jack walked Apple toward Samantha and handed her the lead rope. She held her hand out for the pretty, young mare to snuffle. Apple stepped right up to her, rubbing her face against Samantha’s arm, sending her off balance until she braced herself.
“See, she likes you already. My horses have good taste.” Jack walked over to Larry and put his halter on. As they started for the gate, Samantha felt a hint of contentment, tinged with excitement. It was like she was a girl again, with the pretty horse walking by her side, the early sun warming her skin and the scent of pine and sage all around.
They took the horses to the barn and brushed them. The simple work was soothing, Samantha watched Jack furtively. He moved with such an easy grace and confidence around the horses. He was always gentle with them, but very much in charge at the same time. He’d been gentle with her, too, last night on the porch, when she’d needed it.
She realized that he’d caught her staring. He didn’t look away, just held her gaze for a long moment while Samantha tried to keep breathing. So this was what it was like to want someone this much.
He took a few steps toward her and she wondered if her legs would hold up when he kissed her. But he paused by the fence instead and picked up the pad and saddle that were balanced there. He carried them over to Apple and Samantha moved out of his way, a little disappointed. The saddle smelled like leather and he smelled like salt. The combination made her dizzy.
Jack set the pad carefully on Apple’s back, then the saddle. When he reached under Apple’s belly to tighten the cinch, she had an amazing view of him in his faded jeans. She wondered what was underneath then quickly turned away. She looked down the hill toward her ranch, focusing on the view, trying to stop this crazy rush of hormones or whatever it was that had her aware of Jack every single moment.
“You ready, Frisco?” She forced herself to calm down and turned back to face him. He had the bridle on Apple and he handed her the reins. “Remember, no worrying, no working and no feeling guilty about not working. Today is just for enjoying the mountains.”
If the butterflies in her stomach and the hurt in her heart would go away, she might be able to follow his rules. Samantha took the reins, put her foot in the stirrup and swung up onto Apple’s back, hoping that whatever happened in the mountains today, it would wash away the murky residue of Mark’s betrayal.
* * *
ASPE
N LEAVES RATTLED like gold coins in the warming breeze. Larry’s long strides ate up the rocky terrain underfoot and Jack let the contentment he always felt up here wash over him. There was nothing like a lungful of pine-scented air and the flat, mineral smell of granite baked by the sun. And every time he looked back and saw Samantha behind him, riding Apple so well, it was like an added bonus to an already damn near perfect day.
A small stream tumbled down the hillside and across his path. He looked down to make sure Larry found his footing and quickly pulled him to a halt. “Look, Samantha. Bear tracks. Do you see them?” She brought Apple close and followed his gaze to the far bank where huge paw prints had dried into the clay. “Old though.” His smile was reassuring. “Nothing to worry about today.”
She studied the tracks carefully. “Oh, that’s comforting.”
“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t scared.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but took the bait. “I’m not scared. I spent my summers here, remember? And when I wasn’t here, I was living in some pretty wild places. Your bear doesn’t scare me.”
Or if it did, she wasn’t the type to let him know it. He admired her attitude. Last night’s tears had definitely been a rarity.
Once they got past the stream, there was room for them to ride side by side so he moved Larry over. Samantha brought Apple up beside him and Jack turned to her, asking quietly, “What was that like?”
“What, growing up?” She looked troubled. He’d never seen her at such a loss for words. A few moments passed, then she answered, “I don’t know, different from most people’s childhood, I guess. My parents are filmmakers. They make documentaries. So we moved a lot, usually two or three times a year. We lived in some pretty exotic places. Asia, the Middle East, Ecuador, India, Kenya.”
Jack hadn’t imagined this, not in a million years. Her manners, her slight accent, her composed beauty had misled him. He’d pictured her growing up in a mansion somewhere, punctuated by a few rustic summers on the ranch. “Really? Did you have a favorite place?”
A Ranch to Keep Page 13
