Normally, Jack enjoyed Jed’s ribbing, but today was different. This whole thing with Samantha had him off his game.
“I’m not sure why I didn’t ask,” he told them. “But I did tell her I wanted to buy it after the barbecue the other day, though I may not have used those exact words. And my credibility with her wasn’t too strong by then.”
“Jack Baron, what did you do to that woman?” Betty’s hands were on her hips and she looked outraged. “She’s a lovely person, and Ruth Rylant’s granddaughter. You need to mind your manners with her!”
“I screwed up, Betty,” Jack confessed. “I think I was wondering if she might keep the ranch for herself...and maybe stick around.” It felt good to finally confess what had been haunting him since the barbecue.
“Oh, it’s like that, is it?” Betty asked, her voice gentle now, as she brought over the coffee pot. “I thought so.”
“Yeah...it is. Well, it was,” Jack said regretfully. “Now it’s just a big mess. She’s positive I was trying to get close to her so that I could get a good price on her land. So I don’t think she’s going to be very receptive to any offer from me.”
“Well, did you at least tell her what Rob Morgan is really like?” Jed asked.
“I tried to, Jed. But I don’t know if she believes much that I say at this point. Plus, I’m sure he’s painting her a pretty rosy picture of himself and his plans. All I know for certain is that Samantha Rylant is the most stubborn person I’ve ever met.”
“You mean you’ve finally met your match?” Betty softened her words by refilling his coffee cup.
Jack shook his head and Jed let out a guffaw. “Give the guy a break, Betty. Can’t you see he’s all lovesick and conflicted?”
“Are you calling me stubborn, Betty?” Jack picked up his fork and grinned at her. “Can’t imagine why.”
“It’s a good quality, Jack,” she told him. “It certainly served us well the last time Robert Morgan tried to develop these mountains. I’ll never forget how hard you worked to stop him and his cronies. Remember how you and that biologist practically lived in those ranges until you found those little toads?”
“I remember feeling cross-eyed for weeks afterward, I’d spent so much time staring at the ground hoping one would show up.” Betty and Jed laughed with him.
“Well, if Rob gets his hands on the Rylant land, we’ll just fight him again,” Jed said, wearily. “But it would be a hell of a lot easier if you could work something out to buy the ranch.”
“That’s true, Jack,” Betty chimed in. “Or, if you want to give Samantha a chance to spend some more time on her ranch, why not try talking to Rob? Maybe he just needs a little manly heart-to-heart to finally see some sense.”
Jack wanted to laugh at that pipe dream. But he looked at Betty, with her good heart out there on her sleeve, and he couldn’t say no. “I’ll try,” he promised her.
Jack knew too much was at stake to wallow in his misery over Samantha any longer. “Look, I made a mess of this and I’ll figure it out. I’ll talk to Samantha and try to make it right before she sells to Morgan just to piss me off.”
Jack remembered again the dark hurt in her eyes as she stepped out of the car on Sunday evening. He’d let her think she’d been used. He’d let her feel betrayed. All because he didn’t have the guts to tell her the truth about how he felt.
He knew it for sure at the barbecue, when they sat under that pine tree, but he’d had glimpses of it since the first time they’d met.
He wasn’t after her land—buying her ranch was his second choice. If he could have what he really wanted, she’d keep the ranch and stay right here in the mountains, with him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THERE WAS DEFINITELY something good to be said for reality television. It was Wednesday night and Samantha was so tired she found herself curled on the couch at nine-thirty in the evening, surfing channels with the remote. Skipping the gym and getting some Chinese takeout had been the right thing to do after a thirteen-hour workday, she concluded as she watched a bunch of rugged-looking people waiting anxiously to see if they were voted off the island. She flipped the channel to another program, where ten nervous guys in tuxedos were hovering around a beautiful young woman who was passing out roses. “If it were only that easy,” she murmured to her chow mein.
Her phone jangled and she almost dropped the noodles on her lap. She immediately thought of Jack, then wished she hadn’t. She kept hoping he’d call to apologize, to say that it had all been a misunderstanding. She wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted to hear. That he thought of her just as much as she was thinking of him? That he wasn’t just trying to get his hands on her ranch? It was pretty clear that wasn’t going to happen. But still, when she didn’t recognize the number, a spark of hope shimmered. “Hello?” she answered cautiously.
It was Robert Morgan—the spark flickered out. Rob seemed friendly and helpful enough, definitely not at all the lying, scheming nature-destroyer that Jack had described. He asked her to meet for lunch tomorrow. “I’m really looking forward to seeing you again,” he told her. “And I’ve got some great news for you about selling your ranch. You’ll be thrilled to hear it.”
She wasn’t sure she’d be thrilled. Her mind had been filled with images of the ranch all day, the view over Owens Valley, the granite peaks behind, the rustling noise the wind made in the aspen trees. It was becoming very clear to her that selling the ranch wasn’t going to be thrilling in any way. It was a necessity, but it was also a sad ending. She made the arrangements for their lunch date, and as she said goodbye and hung up, she wondered how much money was enough money for her grandma’s ranch.
* * *
ROB LEANED OVER his appetizer. “Five million,” he stated.
“Five million?” It was hard to keep her voice low when she contemplated that amount of money.
“Five million dollars. That’s what my partners are prepared to offer you.” Rob’s bright, confident smile gleamed at her in the bright light of the patio restaurant. Beyond him the bay rippled in blues and grays under a surprisingly sunny San Francisco sky. It was one of those days that tourists hoped for and rarely saw, where sailboats whisked by on the light breeze, and the clear sky made all the grand bridges and picturesque buildings stand out in sharp relief.
Samantha thought about five million dollars, took a sip of her iced tea and studied Rob’s face. He didn’t look dishonest. He looked handsome, clean-cut, and his expression was open and relaxed. She wished she could just be attracted to someone like him, who was from her own world. Someone who picked good restaurants and worked in the business world and seemed so straightforward and easygoing. He really was just her type. Except he wasn’t, she reminded herself. If Jack was correct, Rob wasn’t honest at all, and after Mark, that characteristic was now top on her list of what she wanted in a boyfriend.
She realized she should have done her research. The normal Samantha would have come prepared with appraisals, figures and questions, but somehow despite all her attempts to keep as busy as possible lately, she hadn’t found time to do anything that related to selling the ranch.
Five million dollars certainly seemed like a lot of money. Assuming Rob had no terrible plans, a part of her was tempted to take the offer and run. How incredible to be that wealthy! She could invest it, maybe even start her own company. And it would immediately get her far, far away from Jack Baron and all the uncomfortable feelings that went with him. With effort, she swallowed those dreams and put on what she hoped was a calm smile. The truth was, she had no idea if five million was a good offer or not.
“That’s a lot of money, Rob,” she stalled.
“It sure is, Samantha. I told you we’d make you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”
“I see.” Samantha let out a long breath, trying to think through the emotion that was suddenly wel
ling up inside. Ruth’s ranch...gone forever if she agreed to this.
“We think we’re offering a fair deal and well above market value.”
Samantha tried to think of what to ask—what would she normally say if she weren’t fighting the lump of panic rising in her throat at the thought of saying goodbye to the ranch? “It’s a great deal of money, but you and your partners are obviously going to make a great deal more money on this or you wouldn’t be offering me this price.”
Rob fidgeted with his knife but gave an easy chuckle. “Well, of course, Samantha. But we’ll be investing so much money and time into the property, and we all need to make financial gains. This is business, you know.” He flashed his open, charming smile. “And as your lawyer and, I hope, your friend, I should advise you that an offer like this won’t come around again.”
He might be right. Samantha looked beyond him for a moment, at the busy restaurant entrance, and tried to say goodbye to the ranch in her head. The weatherworn house flashed into her mind, framed by tall mountains beyond. She pictured the front pasture in spring, with shorn grass, wildflowers, and roses blooming on the old picket fence. Jack’s words echoed in her head, and the beloved house fell down before her eyes, bulldozed to make way for hotels, ski resorts, golf courses. She quickly tamped down the images and dragged her eyes back to Rob’s face, wondering if there was a way to figure out if he was being honest.
“Can you tell me more about your plans?” she asked.
“Sure.” He set his glass down and leaned forward. “Like I mentioned before, we’re thinking a resort. A very small resort. You know, catering to an upscale clientele.”
“So by a small resort you mean...?”
“Well, just a boutique hotel really. An upscale lodge with rooms and great dining, maybe a few cabins.”
“And the farmhouse? The buildings?”
“If you want to stipulate that we keep them, we will. Maybe they could become a small museum, or a gift shop selling local products.”
That didn’t sound too bad. Maybe Jack was overreacting. “Would there be anything else planned?” she asked. “Any shops?”
“Probably not,” Rob answered. “Our goal is to attract a discerning type of clientele to the area, while maintaining the integrity of the natural surroundings.”
He was so calm, so sure, it was impossible that he was lying, Samantha thought. A knot formed in her stomach at the thought. Maybe Jack had it all wrong. Or, more likely, she thought cynically, maybe Jack had been trying to scare her into selling the ranch to him.
Rob’s phone buzzed and, glancing at the screen, he excused himself and left the patio to take the call.
Samantha nibbled her salad and pondered starting her own advertising business. She tried to calculate how many of her team members would follow her if she went out on her own. A lot, she was pretty certain. And she had to admit that the idea of revenge against Mark was intoxicating. But she knew better than to make any decisions now.
“Sorry about that.” Rob sat back down. “Work never stops, as I’m sure you know. So, what do you think of the offer? Are you excited?”
That was definitely not the word she’d use. Rob was wearing a confident smile and obviously waiting for her yes. With a jolt in her stomach, she knew she couldn’t give it. At least not now.
“It’s a big decision. I really appreciate the offer, but I’ll need some time to think about it.”
She caught an expression flit across his face that she didn’t recognize. Fear? Anger? But it was gone in an instant and he gave her a sympathetic smile, signaling the waiter to refill her water glass. “I get it, Samantha. It’s a big decision. Just don’t wait too long, okay? An offer like this won’t come along twice.”
“But no pressure, right?” she teased gently.
“No pressure.” He reached into his briefcase and pulled out a manila envelope, handing it to her across the table. “Here’s a write-up of what we’re considering. When you have a little time, just take a look at it and give me a call.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IT WAS STILL too close to Babygeddon to spend a weekend on her own in San Francisco. Samantha discovered this when she woke up Saturday morning to the quiet of her apartment, and the loneliness of her day. There was a lot she could do, and should do, but normally Mark would have done it with her and she just didn’t want to feel his absence.
Samantha had endured breakups before. She’d even been dumped before. But there was an unease that came with the knowledge that Mark had cheated on her for so long. A dirtiness to the memories of time spent with him, that left her feeling wretched and made her want to avoid any reminders that she could.
It felt much better to drive away. Every mile she put between herself and the city lifted weight off her shoulders until she arrived at the ranch, six hours later, singing happily along with Sheryl Crow, the sunroof open to let the brisk evening air pour in. She stepped out onto the gravel driveway with a lighter heart than she could have thought possible this morning and jogged up the steps to the porch.
As she crossed the old boards, something crunched under her feet. Startled, she jolted to a stop and looked around her. Glass was scattered in a thousand shards across the porch. Her front window had been broken, the gaping hole surround by jagged edges.
Her heart sped up until it was banging against her rib cage. She pulled in a deep breath, then another, trying to calm herself. She kept pepper spray in the glove compartment of her car, so she went there first, taking comfort in the fit of the cool metal cylinder in her palm as she approached the front door. It was still locked, so Samantha pulled out her key, opened it and went through.
Nothing looked different. The iPod dock she’d left here was still perched on the kitchen counter. Grandma Ruth’s antiques were in place. If this were a robbery, wouldn’t all of this be gone?
Samantha stepped quietly into the front parlor and saw the rock where it had landed among the broken glass littering the wood floor. A rock wrapped in paper. She grabbed it and stepped out onto the porch, not wanting to be in the violated house any longer than she had to be. The paper was tied with a red string that slid off easily. A note, scrawled in red ink, read “We don’t want you here. Go back where you belong.”
Another prank. That was her first thought. Another prank by the same teenagers who’d left the graffiti on her porch. But it was the second time and this was far worse than the first. She couldn’t dismiss it this time. Grabbing her cell phone from her purse she called information and asked for the sheriff’s number.
* * *
JACK STROLLED BACK toward the barn from the upper pasture, throwing an enormous stick for Zeke and enjoying the dog’s antics. Zeke treated the stick as his mortal enemy, growling at it, wrestling it to the ground and then dragging it back to Jack so another battle could begin.
Almost to the barn door, Jack heard the wheels on the driveway below. He willed himself to keep moving toward the barn, rather than walk to the edge of the driveway where he could see down the hill to Samantha’s house. He wasn’t ready to face the hurt he’d put in her eyes last weekend. He wasn’t ready to face the feelings he’d confessed to Betty and Jed a few days ago.
What was the point of those feelings anyway? It was futile to hope Samantha would stay. Her life was in San Francisco and the sooner he made his peace with that the happier he’d be. Amy had hated ranch life. His own mother had left his father, and him, because she hated ranch life. So why he thought Samantha might be any different was beyond him. “Hope springs eternal,” he’d heard. Or maybe hope was just the idiot emotion.
Jack slid the big doors of the barn closed, latching them for the night. The day had gone to evening, sunlight fading to a gray-and-purple light that made the mountains above go soft. It was like one of those photographs where the person put a filter on the camera. He stopped to lo
ok and Zeke came bounding up and set his stick down at Jack’s feet, smiling his crazy-dog smile, tongue lolling, waiting for the game to continue. Still watching the mountains, Jack threw the stick. It sailed past the hitching post, and landed at the top of the path that led to Samantha’s house. The border collie sprang after it, a speeding arrow of black-and-white fur, but instead of pouncing on his prize he froze, staring over the hillside to the ranch below. He barked once and then stopped.
“Whatcha looking at, boy?” Jack asked, but Zeke didn’t turn. He just stood there, one foreleg raised, peering down the hill. Jack called one more time and then walked over to where the dog was.
The sight of the sheriff’s jeep pulled up in the driveway below had his heart hammering. He flung himself down the trail at a dead run, leaping the boulders and gullies with Zeke at his heels barking excitedly. He rounded the side of the farmhouse and skidded to a halt when he saw Samantha and Mike Davidson, the local sheriff, conversing on the porch, surrounded by broken glass.
“Samantha? What happened?” He heard his voice come out loud, angry, hoarse, but he didn’t care. He needed to know that she was all right.
They both looked up, and Samantha’s eyes widened in surprise. The sheriff’s face creased in a slow smile as comprehension dawned. Jack knew he must look like a desperate man. Mike stepped forward.
“Evenin’, Jack. Ms. Rylant called me to come on out here...looks like there’s been a little trouble.”
Jack ignored him, his eyes on Samantha’s face, taking in the pale skin, the worry that drew a faint line between her brows. He took a few steps closer. “Why the hell didn’t you come get me? Did you stand around here by yourself waiting for Mike to get here?”
Samantha’s usual reserve was back. “I am perfectly able to handle this myself, Jack. I didn’t need to come find you because I had a broken window. I checked the house and called the sheriff. Everything is fine. Thank you for coming down here to see if I needed help, but I’ve got it under control.” She turned back to Mike as if to continue their previous conversation. Her tone spoke volumes about the hurt he’d caused and the rift he’d created between them. Jack came up the stairs two at a time and took her hand.
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