“Are you finished?” She stopped and turned to face him, her hands on her hips and a look of accusation.
“Am I finished?”
One thin brow lifted. “Do you really need me to say it aloud?” She was back walking toward the house before he could catch his breath.
A nuzzle at his ankle brought his gaze to the barn cat. “Don’t expect much from me. What you did back there can’t be easily forgiven.”
Weston stepped up onto the back porch and he watched Sammie toe off her boots and place them beside the door then followed her into the kitchen. The house smelled of something very savory and again, his stomach growled. That morning’s breakfast had long run out and it wasn’t very often he got a homecooked meal unless his sisters-in-law felt sorry for him.
*****
Sammie’s mouth watered. Since being back home she’d worked up an appetite, and with Bessie cooking, it was like getting a country meal every day. Back in Chicago, Sammie was known for having a salad at her desk. Sometimes Brady would join her.
Her stomach twisted. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of her ex one time in the last few days. That proved she had been over him long ago.
In the kitchen, Bessie was standing at the stove tending to a skillet. Her silver hair was cut into a short neat bob and she was wearing a white apron with the word “Diva” embroidered across the front. Sammie had to stop a second and take in the sight as she already did that morning when she came down the stairs and found the woman already busy making her famous biscuits. Sammie remembered a time, not so long ago, when her mother would be in the kitchen preparing yet another fabulous meal. Pushing aside the emotion, she stepped further in. “I hope there’s room for one more, Bessie.”
The woman turned, wooden spoon in hand. “Who do we have?”
“Me, Bessie,” Wes said from the doorway.
The woman’s face lit up and she set her spoon down, going to Wes and dragging him in for a bear hug. Sammie smiled. She’d gotten the same attention that morning.
He was a trooper and didn’t try to wiggle free from her bosom. Finally, Bessie pulled back, giving him a curious once over. “If it isn’t Weston Jericho. Still as handsome as ever. Mm-mm. I haven’t seen you in a while. You and your brothers don’t come to church as often as you should.” She waved a finger in reprimand, but her wide smile softened the firmness of her words. “I’ve missed you fellows. I see those beautiful ladies, Pippa and Harley, often.”
“I’ll show up next Sunday to church.” He dragged off his hat and held it against his chest.
“You better, young man! Bring that lovely child, Brie, too.”
“I will.” He shifted from one boot to the other.
“How has time passed so fast?” Bessie gave her head a shake. “I remember when you and Sammie were looking at each other like you were fresh slop to the prized hog. I used to kid around with Lucas, telling him that you two would make the perfect babies.” She clicked her tongue. Sammie could have melted into the floor in embarrassment. Wes only smiled. “Making your parents proud. That’s what you two are doing now.”
Sammie could debate on how proud her daddy was, but she kept her mouth shut. Instead, she strolled to the coffee maker to pour herself a large cup while Bessie was back at the stove stirring and humming.
“I never did understand why you two didn’t stay together.” Bessie was back at it. “You were like peas and carrots.” The woman sighed, tapping the spoon against the skillet. “There’s always a second chance for everyone.”
Feeling her cheeks flush, Sammie turned so Weston wouldn’t see her reaction. After feeling under control, she took down another cup. “I’m sure you want a cup too?” she asked Wes who seemed frozen in his spot on the polished, wooden floor. He looked about as uncomfortable as she felt.
He loosened up some. “As much as you can spare.”
She started to ask if he wanted a good dose of whiskey added, but Bessie would give them a lecture about drinking so early. Probably for the best. Sammie needed her wits about her to get through the next hour. Why had she gone as far as to invite Wes to eat lunch with her? He would be a much-needed buffer. It was time she spoke to her father about her intentions for the ranch and Wes would be her support.
“You go ahead and have a seat, young lady, and I’ll fix you right up with a heaping plate of grits, eggs, potatoes, and sausage. Breakfast works any time of the day.” Bessie’s spoon pointed straight at Sammie. “I don’t know what they’ve been feeding you up there in that big city, but you’re too skinny. Men need a little to hang on to. Ain’t that right, Wes?”
Sammie didn’t dare look at him, or ponder the fact that he stayed quiet. It didn’t matter what he thought or whether he believed she was too skinny. The moment she started relying on his appreciation of her would be the second she’d be lost under those amazing blue eyes and the deep dimples that bracketed his smile.
As her plate was placed in front of her, Sammie’s stomach growled. “Thank you, Bessie. Everything looks delicious.”
“You go on ahead and have a seat too, Wes. Lucas will be down soon,” Bessie said.
Wes started for the chair at the end of the long table, but Bessie’s hrrrumph stopped him. “Not there. There.” She used the spoon to point to the chair next to Sammie. When he did as she asked, a juicy smile crossed her expression.
Obviously, she was having her hand at amateur matchmaker. Well, it wouldn’t work, even though Sammie had gotten very close to kissing Wes in the barn, which was only a lapse of reasoning. Thank goodness the cat had put a spoke in the act. Kisses were off limits.
After Weston’s plate was placed before him and Bessie’s back was turned, Sammie spooned up the meat off her plate and dropped them onto his, much like how they shared their meals when they were younger.
He narrowed his gaze. “What are you doing?” he whispered.
“I don’t eat meat.” She kept her voice lowered, not wanting to hurt Bessie’s feelings.
“You’re in beef country now, sweetheart.”
“It’s personal choice. Don’t argue with me.”
Bessie brought over a basket of bread covered in a cloth. “Are you two having a spat?” she asked.
Sammie narrowed her gaze, daring Wes to say a word. He shrugged. “Just telling Sammie to slow down. She gobbled up her sausage like it was going out of style.”
Smiling from ear to ear, Bessie patted Sammie’s shoulder. “No worries, sweetie. There’s plenty more where that came from. I’ll grab you a few more.”
Wes’s smile ripped right through Sammie. She slid her finger slowly across her neck. “You’re in trouble,” she warned.
He laughed and dug into his meal.
She pulled back the cloth on the basket and could have squealed in delight. Picking up one of the squares of cheese and garlic biscuits, she bit into the heavenly, moist goodness. The bread practically melted in her mouth. She’d almost forgotten how much she loved Bessie’s biscuits. “These are still the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth, Bessie.”
Beaming, the woman then chuckled. “There’s more where that came from too.” She stepped over and dropped more sausage onto Sammie’s plate. “I’ll fatten you up in no time. I’ll show you how to bake up a batch of biscuits for yourself. You do cook now, right?” The woman’s grey eyes landed on her.
Hesitating, Sammie placed her half-eaten biscuit onto her plate. “Does reheating in the microwave count?”
Bessie’s mouth fell open in complete shock and the spoon was held high as if she could whack Sammie on the hand. “Oh my, young lady.” Bessie pressed a chubby hand against her bosom. “How do you expect to snag a handsome fellow like Wes here if you don’t have the hips to bear a healthy child and can’t cook up a hearty meal after he’s sweated on the land?”
Sammie had several responses, however she didn’t wish to stir up another lecture from Bessie. “There’s always take out.”
“I don’t know about this generation of w
omen.” Bessie fanned her face as if she could faint.
“It’s called modern age, Bessie. Don’t pretend you’re not independent. You’re one of the strongest women I know.”
Bessie smiled and patted her hair. “Thank you. Your daddy is tight-lipped as a baby facing down a spoon of spinach and won’t tell me a thing why you’re here, young lady. So, you tell me. Are you staying?”
Wes kept his head down at his food.
“No, I have a job in Chicago and—”
“I’m smelling grub.” Lucas walked into the kitchen and Sammie snapped her mouth shut. He was using a cane and she was a bit surprised. “Daddy, what are you doing with the cane?”
“Killing flies. What does it look like I’m doing?” he grumbled. “Why do you have meat on your plate? Thought you said you don’t like meat?” he huffed.
If Bessie wasn’t already close to passing out, she’d crossed a line then. She leaned against the counter and was shaking her head fanatically. “No meat? Lordy bee. The Jerichos have all that cattle. How will you fit in?”
Sammie counted to ten with little tension relief. “Sorry, Bessie. I haven’t eaten meat in nine years. And daddy, looks like you’re having trouble walking. Have you seen the doctor lately?” She should have already known the answer.
He snorted. “I don’t need any overpaid quack telling me something I already know.”
“And what’s that exactly?” Sammie didn’t want to push her luck when she still had to speak to him about the ranch, but she worried about him.
“That I’m old. Good morning, Wes. Good to see you here. A man needs some testosterone on occasion.” Lucas dropped into his chair at the end of the table, leaning his cane against the wall.
“Breakfast is coming, Lucas.” Bessie grabbed another plate and filled it high and brought it to him.
“What brings you out to the ranch, Wes?” Lucas asked around a bite of egg.
Picking up her fork, Sammie stuffed her mouth full of potato and swallowed the bite like it had turned to sawdust. Realizing Wes’s gaze was on her, she tried ignoring him, but how does one ignore a man like Wes? Impossible. He picked up a biscuit and buttered it, slowly and deliberately.
Okay. He was leaving it up to her. She needed to stop acting like a child and do what needed to be done. “Daddy, Wes is here helping on the ranch.” There it was, out in the open. “He’s agreed to help get things back running smoothly around here.”
The corners of Lucas’s mouth dropped. “Why the hell is he doing that? He has his own ranch and business to run.”
“I asked him to help. That’s why.”
He sniffed loudly. “Thank you, Wes, but things are fine here. You go back to your own ranch and leave me to mine.”
“You haven’t been out on the land supervising the daily activities in days. Have you noticed how rundown things are? We’re losing hands like flies in a fly trap. Someone has to take charge.” She gripped the edge of the table.
“Is that someone you? You waltz in here and decide what we’re doing now?” Lucas grumbled.
She wanted to slam her mouth shut, but if she did, she might as well give up and go home. “No, Daddy. We’re accepting Wes’s help.” Although she and her father had never been good about seeing things the same way, and many times she’d agreed to disagree with him, on this subject she had to sink her boots deep and stand her ground. Otherwise, things around Tanner would only get worse. And she had a life to get back to.
“You ain’t the boss around here, youngin’. If you haven’t noticed my name is still on the deed which means I’m still alive,” he practically growled the words.
“More biscuits anyone?” There was a nervous quiver to Bessie’s voice.
Wes was still shoveling eggs into his mouth.
Sammie wanted to walk away, but that wasn’t a possibility. Her father couldn’t see the trees for the overgrown forest. “That’s where you’re wrong, Daddy. Mom and you both ran this place and you and I know I’m the sole heir. If we don’t fix things around here, there won’t be anything left but a memory, and I can’t have that. Mom wouldn’t want that. If you’d stop being so danged stubborn you’d see that I’m only looking out for your best interest.”
The man’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t used to anyone standing up to him, let alone in front of onlookers. Bessie had dropped the cast iron skillet into the sink water and the sizzle didn’t even match the heat at the table. “Leave your mom out of this. If you’d cared about what she wanted, you wouldn’t have run away like you did. Or is that why you’re here? Afraid your inheritance is dwindling and looking to fill your bank account?”
CHAPTER NINE
Weston scooped up a large forkful of potato and shoved the bite into his mouth. He could moan aloud at the wonderful savory taste. Although he could cook, he wasn’t a very good one. He missed having meals that were like an orchestra to his taste buds.
Lucas’s rough-edged tone took away some of the enjoyment of the meal.
Weston looked over his fork to meet Sammie’s gaze. He could see the unspoken plea in the blue depths, and it reached in and grabbed his heart. His protective side came alive, but he controlled the emotion. This wasn’t his fight and if Sammie and Lucas ever planned to find solid ground, they needed to work it out…just the two of them.
Also, pushing Lucas into a corner would only backfire.
“That’s a low blow, don’t you think?” Sammie had her attention back on Lucas.
“Stick around. I have plenty more where that came from. What you need to do is pack those fancy bags with your designer clothes and head back where you belong because you don’t want to be here.”
“That’s not true. I could have easily not come, but I did,” she muttered.
“No one wants you here.” Lucas sighed.
“That’s not true. I want her here.” The words trickled out of Weston’s mouth on their own accord. So much for staying neutral, but he couldn’t sit back and watch Sammie take the blame.
Lucas didn’t even look Weston’s direction. “Maybe you’ll knock her up again.”
Weston’s heart kicked up in speed until he thought the thudding would break a rib. He turned to Sammie, expecting her to deny her father’s words, or at least laugh at the absurdity. She sat there, quiet. “Sammie?” he choked out her name.
She pushed her chair back, but didn’t get up. “Let’s get something straight. I’m here and I have every intention of working my ass off to get Tanner Ranch in good enough shape to sell. There’s another thing, daddy. I love you, as difficult as you make that at times, and you will accept the fact that I’m making the business decisions for the time being. And another charmer…you’re going to see a doctor. I will make the appointment and you can take yourself or I will take you. Really your choice.” She stood, tossing her napkin onto the table. “Before you ask me again what right I have, I’ll tell you. I emptied my bank account to pay your hands and the bank that was about to foreclose on this place. So much for me wanting to pat my account.”
Weston watched her take her plate to the sink.
Bessie took a step forward. “Sweetie…” She reached out, but dropped her hand as if realizing Sammie needed a moment.
“I’ll be outside. Thank you for lunch, Bessie.”
Weston stared as Sammie stepped through the screen door. His chest was on fire. His mind couldn’t wrap around the words Lucas had spoken. His lunch threatened to come back up.
“You don’t have to come back, Wes. Things are fine around here,” Lucas said in a soft voice that made Weston wonder if the man realized he’d crossed a line.
Getting up from his chair, Weston dropped his napkin next to Sammie’s and placed his Stetson back on his head. “Not going to happen, my friend. As long as Sammie is here working this place, trying to salvage things, means I’ll be here too for as long as it takes. You might not heed what I’m about to say, but you’re going to hear it. She didn’t have to come, but she did and it has nothing to do with mo
ney. Know that. Keep this up and you’ll push her away and she won’t come back. We also both know that’s not what you want whether you admit it or not. Sammie is an amazing woman with a heart the size of Texas. After all, she still loves you.”
Weston dipped his hat to Bessie. “Thank you for a great meal.” And he left.
Lucas scrubbed his jaw and stood, finding Bessie’s grey eyes narrowed on him. “What?”
“I’ve known you and Hannah for as long as I remember, and I must say she’d be mighty disappointed in you, you cantankerous old man.” She shook her head, her eyes filled with unshed tears, and she walked away too.
*****
Sammie brought out the napkin filled with sausage that she’d stuffed in her pocket and dropped the scraps for the barn cat who ate hungrily. She nuzzled behind his ears, loving that he purred happily. “You need a name, don’t you? How about Tink? Tink’s a nice, fun name.”
Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back.
How had she not seen this roller coaster coming? Lucas was in full throttle and he didn’t care who he hurt, or how he hurt them. How could she have believed that he wouldn’t throw her under the bus so easily? Outside of hurting Sammie, this also involved Wes.
She’d left Colton because she’d been at a crossroads between fear and uncertainty, needing to get her head on straight. Her tender heart had been broken back then and the wounds had healed, but she still had scars.
Hearing the rustling of hay underfoot, she didn’t look up as someone entered the barn. Somehow, she knew Wes would come after her. She was certain he had more questions, now more than ever, and she wasn’t sure she could answer all of them without breaking down.
“I’m sorry you had to witness that. I’m embarrassed,” she said.
“You shouldn’t be. All families have their secrets, but I need to know. Is Lucas right? Were you pregnant with my child?”
Weston's Trouble (Saddles & Second Chances Book 3) Page 10
