Palomino

by Danielle Steel

  “Think you can manage him, Miss Taylor?” His voice was clear as a bell and Samantha suddenly felt a strong urge to hit him as he rode alongside her and observed the frisky maneuvers of her horse.

  “I'll certainly try, Mr. Jordan.”

  “I think we probably should have given you Lady.” Samantha said nothing at all in answer and moved on. Half an hour later they were all engrossed in what they were doing: looking for strays and once again checking fences. They found a sick heifer, which two of the men roped in order to lead back to one of the main cattle barns. And by the time they stopped for lunch, they had already put in six hours of work. They stopped in a clearing and tied the horses to the surrounding trees. The usual sandwiches and soup and coffee were handed around, and conversation was sparse but relaxed. No one said much to Samantha, but she was comfortable with them nonetheless and let her thoughts drift as she sat for a few moments with her eyes closed in the winter sun.

  “You must be tired, Miss Taylor.” It was that voice again. She opened one eye.

  “Not really. I was enjoying the sunshine. Does that bother you very much?”

  “Not at all.” He smiled pleasantly. “How are you enjoying Navajo?”

  “Very much.” She opened both eyes and smiled at him. And then she suddenly couldn't resist teasing him a little. “Not as much as I'd enjoy Black Beauty of course.” She smiled mischievously at him and it was hard to tell if she meant it or not.

  “That, Miss Taylor”—he returned the smile to her like a rapid volley in tennis—“is a mistake I hope you never make.” He nodded wisely. “You'd get hurt. And that”—he smiled gently at her again—“would be a great shame. A stallion like that, there are damn few people who should ride him. Even Miss Lord herself has to be careful when she takes him out. He's a dangerous beast, and not…” He looked for the right words.”… not the kind of horse a ‘sometime rider’ ought to play with.” The green eyes looked infinitely patronizing as he gazed down at her with his steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

  “Have you ridden him?” The question was blunt and her eyes didn't smile.

  “Once.”

  “How did you find him?”

  “He's a beautiful animal. No doubt about that.” The green eyes smiled again. “He's quite a different ride than Navajo.” But there was an implication in his words that suggested that Navajo was all she could handle. “Looks like he gave you a little bit of a hard time when we started out.”

  “And you thought I couldn't handle it?” She was almost amused.

  “I was concerned. After all, if you get hurt, it's my responsibility, Miss Taylor.”

  “Spoken like a true foreman, Mr. Jordan. But I don't really think Miss Lord would hold you responsible for what happens to me with a horse. She knows me too well.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That I'm not used to riding horses like Rusty.”

  “But you think you're up to a stallion like Black Beauty?” He knew that neither Caroline Lord nor Bill King would let her ride him. Hell, they'd only let him ride the exquisite Thoroughbred once.

  Samantha nodded quietly. “Yes, I think I could ride him.”

  He looked amused. “Do you? You're that sure of yourself, are you?”

  “I just know how I ride. I ride hard. I take chances. I know what I'm doing, and I've been riding since I was five. That's been a while.”

  “Every day?” There was a challenge again. “Ride much in New York, do you?”

  “No, Mr. Jordan.” She smiled sweetly. “I don't.” But as she said it she vowed to ride Black Beauty as soon as Caroline would let her, because she wanted to, and because she wanted to show this arrogant cowboy that she could.

  A moment later he strode back toward his men and gave them the signal. They mounted up and spent the rest of the afternoon checking the boundaries of the ranch. They found some more loose heifers at the outermost reaches and drove them home at sunset, when once again Samantha wondered if she would even be able to get off her horse. But Josh was waiting for her outside the barn when they got there, and he gave her a hand as she swung her leg over Navajo with a groan.

  “You gonna make it, Sam?”

  “I doubt it.” He grinned at her in answer as she untacked her horse and almost staggered to the tack room to put her saddle and bridle away.

  “How'd it go today?” He followed her and stood in the doorway.

  “All right, I guess.” She realized with a tired smile that she was beginning to speak like the rest of the cowboys, in the same sparse fashion. Only Jordan spoke differently than they did, and only when he was speaking to her. Then the education he'd had was obvious; the rest of the time he sounded just like them. Not unlike Bill King, who was subtly different when he was with Caroline, but not as much. Bill King and Tate Jordan were very different men. Jordan was much less of a rough diamond than most.

  “Long way from New York, ain't it, Samantha?” The wizened little old cowboy grinned, and she rolled her eyes.

  “It sure is. But that's why I came out here.”

  He nodded. He didn't really know why she had come. But he understood. A ranch was a good place to be when one had problems. Lots of hard work, fresh air, good food, and good horses would cure almost anything. Your belly got full, your rump got tired, the sun came up and went down, and another day went by with nothing more complicated to worry about than if your horse needed new shoes or the fence on the south forty needed fixing. It was the only life Josh had ever known but he had seen plenty of other people try other things and come back to it. It was a good life. And he knew it would do Sam good too. Whatever she was running away from, it would help her. He had noticed the dark circles under her eyes the previous morning. They already looked clearer today.

  Together, they wandered past Black Beauty, and almost instinctively Sam reached out and patted his neck. “Hello, boy.” She spoke softly to him and he whinnied as though he knew her. She gazed at him thoughtfully, as though once again seeing him for the first time. And then an odd light came into her eyes as she left the big barn with Josh at her side, bid him good night, and walked slowly back to the big house, where Bill King was talking to Caroline. They stopped when she came in.

  “Hello, Bill… Caro.” She smiled at them both. “Am I interrupting something?” She looked embarrassed for a moment, but they were both quick to shake their heads.

  “Of course not, dear.” Caroline kissed her and Bill King picked up his hat and got up.

  “I'll be seein' you tomorrow, ladies.” He was quick to leave them and Samantha sprawled out on the couch with a sigh.

  “Hard day?” Caroline looked at her gently as she lay there. She herself hadn't ridden all week. She and Bill still had a lot of paperwork to do before year's end, and there were only two weeks left in which to do it. She'd at least have to get out and ride Black Beauty one of these days before he became totally wild, but she didn't really even have time for that. “Are you very tired, Sam?” Caroline looked sympathetic.

  “Tired? Are you kidding? After sitting at a desk for all these years? I'm not tired. I'm broken. If Josh didn't drag me off that horse every night, I'd probably have to sleep out there.”

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Worse.” The two women laughed and the Mexican woman who helped Caroline with the cleaning and cooking signaled from the kitchen. Dinner was ready. “Mmm, what is it?” Samantha wrinkled her nose happily on the way into the big handsomely done country kitchen.

  “Enchiladas, chiles rellenos, tamales.… All my favorites, I hope some of them are yours.”

  Samantha smiled at her happily. “After a day like that you could feed me cardboard, as long as there was lots of it, with a bath and a bed at the end of the meal.”

  “I'll remember that, Samantha. Otherwise how's it going? Everyone being civil to you, I hope?” She furrowed her brows as she asked the question, and Samantha nodded and smiled.

  “Everyone's perfectly pleasant.” But there was a tiny cat
ch in her voice and Caroline was quick to hear it.

  “Except?”

  “No except's. I don't think Tate Jordan and I will ever be best friends, but he's perfectly civilized. I just don't think he approves of what he calls ‘sometime riders.’”

  Caroline looked amused. “Probably not. He is an odd sort. In some ways he thinks like a rancher, but he's perfectly happy to break his back working on the ranch. He is the last of the real thing. Real cowboys, the hard-riding, hardworking, down-to-the-core ranchman who would die for the ranchers he works for and do anything he could to save the ranch. He's a good man to have here, and one day,” she sighed softly, “he'll be the right man to step into Bill's shoes. If he stays.”

  “Why wouldn't he? He has a hell of a nice life here. You've always provided your men with more comforts than anyone else.”

  “Yes.” She nodded slowly. “And I've never been convinced that that mattered to them as much as I thought it should. They're a funny breed. Almost everything they do is a matter of pride and honor. They'll work for one man for nothing because they feel they owe him or because he's done right by them, and then leave someone else because they feel they should. It's impossible to predict what any of them will do. Even Bill. I never even fully know with him what he's going to do.”

  “It must be quite something to try and run a ranch like that.”

  “It's interesting.” Caroline smiled. “Very interesting.” And then suddenly she noticed Samantha glancing at her watch. “Something wrong, Sam?”

  “No.” Sam looked suddenly strangely quiet. “It's six o'clock.”

  “Yes?” For a moment Caroline didn't understand and then she did. “The news broadcast?” Samantha nodded. “Do you watch it every night?”

  “I try not to.” The look of pain was back in Sam's eyes as she said it. “But in the end I always do.”

  “Do you think you ought to?”

  “No.” Slowly Samantha shook her head.

  “Do you want me to have Lucia-Maria bring the television in? She can, you know.” But Sam shook her head again.

  “I have to stop watching sometime.” A tiny sigh escaped her. “I might as well stop watching right now.” It was like fighting an addiction. The addiction of staring into John Taylor's face every night.

  “Can I offer anything to help distract you? A drink? A rival newscast? Hard candy? Some tissues to shred?” She was teasing and Samantha laughed then. What a wonderful woman she was and she seemed to understand it all.

  “I'll be all right, but come to think of it…” She looked across the table at Caroline, looking like a very young girl with an enormous request, like Mom's mink stole for the senior prom. And the long blond hair loose on her shoulders only helped to make her look younger in the soft light. “I do have a favor to ask.”

  “What's that? I can't imagine anything here you can't have.”

  “I can.” Samantha grinned like a little kid.

  “And what might that be?”

  Samantha whispered the two magic words. “Black Beauty.”

  For a moment Caroline looked pensive, and then suddenly she looked amused. “So that's it, is it! I see.…”

  “Aunt Caro … may I?”

  “May you what?” Caroline Lord sat back in her chair with a regal air and a twinkle in her eye.

  But Samantha would not be easily put off. “May I ride him?”

  There was no answer for a long moment as Caroline grew anxious. “Do you think you're up to it yet?”

  Samantha nodded slowly, knowing the truth of what Josh had said: If you had it, you never lost it. “I do.”

  Caroline nodded slowly. She had watched Sam riding into the main compound as she and Bill had stood at her large picture windows. Sam just had horses in her bones. It was a part of her, instinctively, even after not riding for over a year. “Why do you want to ride him?” She cocked her head to one side, her dinner forgotten.

  When Samantha answered, her voice was gentle and her eyes had a faraway look, her ex-husband's broadcast forgotten, along with the woman to whom he had fled. All she could think of now was the ravishingly beautiful black stallion in the stables and how badly she wanted to feel him beneath her as together they raced into the wind. “I don't know why.” She looked up at Caroline honestly. And then she smiled. “I just feel as though, as though”—she faltered for a moment, her eyes distant again—“as though I have to. I can't explain it, Caro. There's something about that horse.” She smiled a distant smile, which was instantly reflected in Caroline's eyes.

  “I know. I felt it too. That was why I had to have him. Even if it makes no sense for a woman my age to have a horse like him. I had to, just this one last time.” Samantha nodded her complete understanding and as the two women looked into each other's eyes they felt the same bond that had always held them together, across the years, across the miles. In some ways they were as one, as though in their souls they were mother and daughter.

  “Well?” Samantha looked at her hopefully.

  “Go ahead.” Caroline smiled slowly. “Ride him.”

  “When?” Sam almost held her breath.

  “Tomorrow. Why not?”

  In the morning as Samantha poured her aching body out of bed, she only felt its pain for the first few instants. After that she remembered her conversation with Caroline, and nothing hurt anymore as she ran to the shower and stood there, with the hot water pounding down on her shoulders and her head. This morning she wasn't even going to take the time for breakfast. She didn't care about breakfast. Not today. All she needed was a cup of coffee from Caroline's kitchen, and after that she would sail out to the barn. Just thinking about it made her smile. It was all she could think of this morning. And the smile was still dancing in her eyes as she ran the last steps to the barn. Two of the men were talking quietly in one corner, but other than that there was no one there. It was still much too early for most of them to be there. They were eating breakfast and trying to wake up as they gossiped about the local news and the usual ranch talk in the main dining hall.

  Quietly, almost stealthily, Samantha picked up Black Beauty's saddle and walked toward his stall. But as soon as she had done so she saw the two men eyeing her, one with raised eyebrows. They had both stopped talking and were watching her with a silent question. Just as silently she nodded and slipped into the stall. She made soft murmuring noises to soothe him, running a hand down the long graceful neck and patting the powerful flanks as he eyed her nervously at first, backing and sidling, and then stopping as though to sniff the air near where she stood. She rested the saddle on the stall door, and then slipping the bridle over his head, she led him from the stall.

  “Ma'am?” The voice surprised her as she looped the reins around a convenient post so she could saddle Black Beauty. She turned around to see who it was. It was one of the two men who had been watching her, and she realized then that he was a good friend of Josh. “Miss Taylor?”

  “Yes?”

  “Uh … do you … I don't mean …” He was mortified, but clearly worried, and Sam smiled her golden smile. This morning her hair was loose down her back, her eyes brilliant, her face pink from the chill December air. She looked incredibly beautiful as she stood beside the coal-black Thoroughbred stallion, like a tiny palomino at his side.

  “It's all right.” She was quick to reassure him. “I have Miss Lord's permission.”

  “Uh … ma'am … does Tate Jordan know?”

  “No.” She shook her head firmly. “He doesn't. And I don't see why he should. Black Beauty belongs to Miss Caroline, doesn't he?” The man nodded, and Sam smiled the dazzling smile again. “Then there shouldn't be any problem.”

  He hesitated and then backed off. “I guess not.” And then with a worried frown, “You ain't scared to ride him? He's got one hell of a lot of power in those long limbs.”

  “I'll bet he does.” She looked at his legs with pleasure and anticipation and then swung the saddle onto his back. For Black Beauty, Caroline had als
o acquired an English saddle, and it was this that Samantha was strapping to him now. It was as though he knew the feel of the smooth brown leather, unlike the cumbersome Western saddle Samantha had been riding for two days. This was a saddle she knew better, and a breed of horse she had often ridden, but a horse as fine as this one was a rare gift in any horseman's life.

  A few minutes after she had saddled him, she tightened the girth again, and then hesitantly one of the two ranch hands moved closer and gave her a leg up onto the gigantic black horse. At the feel of a rider on his back, Black Beauty pranced nervously for a moment, and then with the reins well in hand, Samantha nodded at the two ranch hands and walked Black Beauty quickly away. He pranced and sidestepped quite a lot on the way to the first gate, and then as she let him through it, she allowed him to break into a trot, which rapidly became a swift canter as they made their way across the fields. The sky was by then streaked with the first signs of daybreak, and the light around her was pale gray becoming almost gold. It was a magnificent winter morning and she had beneath her the most magnificent horse she had ever ridden. Unconsciously a broad smile broke out on her face and she let Black Beauty gallop as she moved with him across the fields. It was the most extravagant feeling of freedom she had ever known and it was almost like flying, as together, like one body, they sailed along. It seemed hours later when she forced herself to make him change direction, and slowing him only a little, she began to head home. She still had to ride with the men that morning, and what she had done was forfeit breakfast to ride this magnificent horse across the fields. It was only a quarter of a mile from the main complex that she finally succumbed to temptation and jumped the huge horse across a narrow stream, which he cleared with ease, and only after they had passed it did she notice that not far from them Tate Jordan was riding his own handsome black and white pinto and glaring at her as she raced along. She reined in a little, veered and rode toward him, wanting, just for one moment, to rush him and show him how well she rode. But instead she resisted the temptation and just allowed herself to gallop gaily in his direction on the back of the handsome beast. She slowed him down to a canter, and Black Beauty was prancing happily as they reached Tate.