Randall Riches
Page 18
Inside, he grabbed a bedroll they kept there for nights he was up nursing a sick horse. He lay her down and joined her on the bedroll. “Sam—Sam, if you’re gonna say no, it had better be soon,” he warned her, his breath shallow. He waited in agony for what seemed like days before she answered.
“Love me, Rich. Please love me.”
His lips took hers again and he helped her out of her jeans. She returned the favor. After checking to be sure she was ready, he entered her, unable to hold back any longer.
Until he reached a barrier.
Unable to stop himself, he plunged through, but his pleasure had disappeared. She was a virgin.
“Sam! Sam, I’m sorry!”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her breathing still shallow, her voice distracted.
Withdrawing now would serve no purpose. He started again to build the tension, the emotion, the need. Without answering her question, he led her to passion again. When he felt her release as she clutched him, holding on for dear life, he let go, too.
SAMANTHA LAY ON the bedroll, hardly aware of her nakedness. She’d just experienced the most incredible, emotional event ever. Slowly she became aware of her surroundings.
Beside her, Rich sat up. “Are you all right?”
She had known there would be pain, but the passion that followed easily overruled it. “I’m fine,” she said, hearing the wonder in her voice. She hadn’t known love with a man could be like that.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Rich said.
She turned to stare at him, hearing the anger but not understanding. “What?”
“That you were a virgin.”
“Does it matter? Did I not do it right?”
“Hell! You did it too well. Once I realized—I tried to hold back, but I couldn’t.”
She shook her head, as if trying to clear it. “But I didn’t want you to hold back.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I didn’t, either. I’m sorry, Sam, I meant to take it easy, to give you plenty of time to—you know, change your mind, but somehow you set me on fire, every time. I forget everything when you—Damn! I forgot a condom. I always use a condom!”
She stared at him but he couldn’t read her mind. “Is it the right time of the month for you to— I mean, is it possible that you—” He stopped when her eyes filled with tears. “Sam, don’t cry.”
“I—I bought some.” She sat up and grabbed her jeans and pulled out a small box.
Rich scratched his head. He wasn’t sure what she wanted him to do with the condoms now. “It’s a little late, honey.”
She didn’t appear to see the humor in their situation. “But I bought them!” she insisted, big fat tears running down her cheeks.
He cuddled her against him. “Sssh, honey, don’t cry. Everything will be all right, I promise.” Smoothing her hair back from her face, he rocked her against him, trying to offer comfort. Until he realized his body wasn’t out for the count. And it was way too soon to suggest anything but comfort now.
He eased her back, noting the stricken look in her eyes. “Let’s get dressed and go back to the house. You get a good night’s sleep and we’ll work everything out in the morning. Okay?” He kissed her swollen lips and ended the kiss quickly.
He’d try that again when they were both dressed. Then maybe he could restrain himself.
Samantha tried to think clearly, but it wasn’t easy. Suddenly her nakedness embarrassed her. She reached for her clothes. His attempt to help her resembled the Keystone Kops. “Please, get dressed,” she begged. It wasn’t easy to ignore his lean, muscled body. She couldn’t believe she could want him again, when she’d made such a mess of everything.
He realized he might as well get dressed. He had a sinking feeling she would leave as soon as she was covered, as if she couldn’t stand to be around him. He tried to reassure her again. “Everything will seem better—I mean, we’ll talk in the morning. Everything will be all right.”
He was pulling on a boot when she stalked to the barn door. “Wait, honey.” He almost lost his balance in the process, but he got to the barn door thirty seconds after her. She didn’t slow down or cut him any slack.
He caught her arm before she started into the house. “Sam, please wait. I want to tell you—what happened was—”
She filled in the blanks with words he hadn’t had in mind. “A mistake!” Then she slammed the door behind her.
RICH STAYED OUT on the porch until his body had recovered from their lovemaking. He’d already realized sex with Sam would be great. Now he had absolute proof.
“Damn!” He suddenly remembered he hadn’t asked her to promise not to run away. He’d done so each night this week. But he was being silly. She wouldn’t be able to get away before he talked to her in the morning. He’d make everything right then.
He had to. He was beginning to realize that a life without Sam would be—nothing. Nothing at all. He relived those minutes in her arms, holding her close, loving her, and he decided he’d just gotten lucky. Not having sex. He didn’t mean that. He meant that he thought he’d found the kind of love his parents had. At least he had. He was going to have to work on Samantha. But he would. He was a fighter. And Samantha was worth the fight.
His thoughts were spinning and he decided he should get some sleep as he’d advised Samantha. He’d need to be up early to catch her before his grandma wanted to know what was going on. But once he told her Sam was going to be his wife, he knew she’d be happy. He leaned against the porch rail, dreamily picturing her joy and his parents’ faces when he told them. He wondered if Sam would want to continue living with his grandmother or build their own house. He’d let Sam make that decision.
Feeling pretty proud of himself for how things had turned out, even though he hadn’t planned any of it, and deeply satisfied with the best sex he’d ever had, he went in the house with a smile on his lips.
It was still there when he went to sleep.
SAMANTHA WAS UP before dawn the next morning. It took only a few minutes to pack. She left all the things she’d acquired during her time on the ranch behind, except the money she’d been paid.
Knowing Lavinia and Rich would be up by six-thirty, she was determined to take the car and leave at six. The bus left the store at seven.
She took the time to write a note of love to Lavinia. In the last line, she left a message to Rich, simply saying she couldn’t do it. He would know what she meant. She couldn’t write any more or she would start crying. Every time she thought about going away, tears pooled in her eyes. She tried not to think about last night at all.
She’d planned so carefully to ensure that her actions wouldn’t hurt anyone. Then she’d forgotten the condoms. How could she? She hadn’t realized the power of what she’d experienced. And wanted to experience again. She’d been so foolish, thinking she would take away a beautiful memory. Instead, she was taking away a load of guilt.
She loved Rich. She’d love to be a member of his family. But she wanted a marriage like Pete and Janie’s, or any of the Randalls’. And that wasn’t what was going to happen. And to know she’d risked the possibility that she was pregnant… “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she whispered. But her hand cradled her stomach even as she said it. If she really was pregnant, she’d make a home for her baby. She’d cherish it, no matter what it took.
After tiptoeing down the stairs with her duffel bag, Sam made herself a peanut butter sandwich and grabbed a soda. It would have to last her a while. Then, she took the keys off the pegboard by the back door and stole out as the sky was just beginning to brighten.
She hated taking the car, but she would leave it in town, giving the keys to the young lady who’d sold her the ticket, knowing she’d call Lavinia then.
Fifteen minutes later, she was standing on the sidewalk in front of the general store, waiting for the appearance of the big bus. There were only two other people waiting for the bus so far, and she didn’t know either of them. She was home free—except for the pain of
leaving.
RICH ROLLED OVER and opened his eyes, but he didn’t get out of bed at once. Instead, he relived last night and the pleasure he’d experienced making love to Samantha. And soon, he’d wake up with her beside him each morning.
A satisfied smile filled his face. This marriage thing wasn’t even scary when he pictured Samantha walking down the aisle to him. Funny how things worked out.
Maybe now he even understood his twin’s choices. At first, he’d been upset that Russ had put Abby before him. They’d always been first with each other. So Rich had gone off to the rodeo. But now, he thought he owed Russ an apology. He finally understood about love.
Whoa! He loved Sam. He’d known it last night, but he hadn’t actually thought those words. He loved Sam. And he loved what they’d done last night, but…he wanted to be sure. He tried to picture someone else by his side, but he couldn’t. He tried picturing several sexy ladies in the role of his wife, and realized it was Sam, not anyone else, that he needed. How lucky could a guy get!
He loved Samantha Jeffers.
That thought didn’t even faze him. He, Rich Randall, man-about-town, was in love. Had he told Sam that last night? No. He’d told her they would talk this morning. He’d told her it would be okay.
“Damn! It’s a wonder she didn’t find a gun and shoot me!” he exclaimed, shoving back the covers. He had to tell her. Now!
He pulled on his jeans and hurried to Sam’s bedroom, deciding there could be an extra benefit to awakening her. He could kiss her, hold her.
He slipped into her room, only to discover the bed made. She was up early? He spun around, heading for the kitchen, when something about the room had him turning around again. He hurried to the closet.
It was gone. That damn duffel bag was gone. The one thing Sam would never leave without. She’d gone!
The phone rang as he headed downstairs, praying he was wrong. He grabbed it as he entered the kitchen. “Sam?”
“No, it’s Doc. I just saw Sam standing on the sidewalk in front of Sarah and Jennifer Waggoner’s general store. Looked to me like she’s waiting for the bus!”
“Doc! Get over there and keep her from getting on it. I’ll be right there!” he said urgently. He hung up while Doc was still talking, but all that mattered was Sam.
He ran up the stairs, awakening his grandmother with all the noise.
“Rich? Is that you? What’s wrong?”
“Sam’s gone!”
He grabbed a T-shirt and his boots. Then it occurred to him that she might’ve taken his grandmother’s car. His truck was still at his dad’s. He looked out the window and confirmed his suspicion. He called his dad. “Sam’s run away and I need my truck. Can you bring it over?”
“Be right there,” his father agreed, asking no questions.
As he raced down the stairs again, he told Lavinia, “I’m going to get her.”
Instead of waiting for his father, Rich began jogging down the driveway. He couldn’t risk waiting. He needed Samantha in his life. He couldn’t let her get away.
Rich was almost to the end of the driveway when he saw his black truck. Pete pulled over and reached out to open the passenger door. Rich jumped in. “Let’s go!”
“What happened?” Pete growled as he floored the gas pedal.
Rich didn’t know how to answer. “I don’t know. Last night everything was—” He didn’t want to go down that road. “This morning Doc called to say she’s on the sidewalk waiting for the bus.”
Pete looked at his watch. “I think the bus comes in at seven. We should be able to get there about five minutes before.”
Rich nodded, his gaze fixed forward, as if he could will them to get to town faster.
“Are you wanting to marry her? I thought you said—”
“I’ve been an idiot.”
“What happened?”
“I didn’t know— I realized this morning I love her, but I haven’t told her yet.”
Pete said nothing, his jaw clenched.
“I said everything wrong. This morning, I jumped out of bed and hurried to her room to tell her the right things, and she’d gone.”
“You’d better pray, son. You’ve just about blown your chance.”
“I know.”
SAMANTHA WATCHED AS Doc made a U-turn and pulled up in front of the general store. She tried to hide behind a pole. She didn’t want anyone to see her.
“Mornin’, Sam!” Doc sang out, causing the others waiting for the bus to stare at her.
“Um, mornin’, Doc. What are you doing out this early?”
“Checking on one of my patients. How about you?”
Samantha had to come up with some excuse. “Um, I’m going to Casper to do some shopping.”
“Ah. Why don’t you just drive? There’s Lavinia’s car,” he pointed out.
“She—she might need it during the day.”
“Thoughtful of you,” Doc said, but he looked over his shoulder down the road toward Lavinia’s place.
Samantha looked that way, too, to see if the bus was coming.
“There it is,” a kid called out. He’d already told Samantha he was going to visit his grandmother.
Sam’s grip tightened on her duffel bag and she stepped forward. Her heart was beating rapidly, even as it was ripping apart.
She stared at the bus, growing larger as it sped down the road. Just before it got to the city limits sign, a black pickup ripped around it. Before Sam could even move, it whipped to a stop in front of her, scattering a few pebbles out of the road.
“Sam!” Rich shouted, bounding out of the truck and onto the sidewalk. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Samantha closed her eyes, asking herself why he hadn’t been ten minutes later. “I’m leaving. Please, just let me leave.”
“You can’t leave!” he exclaimed.
“There’s no law against it,” Sam assured him. “Here are the keys to Lavinia’s car. I was going to leave them here, but you can take them.”
He caught her by the shoulders and pulled her to him.
She pushed him away. “Stop!”
“You okay, Sam?” Pete asked.
It hadn’t occurred to Samantha to wonder who was driving Rich’s pickup. “Pete? What are you doing here?”
“Rich needed his truck. And I wanted to know why you were leaving without saying goodbye.”
Sam’s eyes filled with tears. “I—I have to. Will you tell Janie—will you tell her goodbye for me?”
“You’re not leaving!” Rich shouted.
“Yes, I am!” she shouted back. “You don’t have the right to keep me here.”
Even though it was early in the morning, they were drawing a crowd. The bus pulled to a stop just behind Rich’s truck. The sheriff, too, parked by the store.
“Morning, everyone,” the sheriff said. “Got a call there was a problem here.”
“No! No, but he won’t let me leave,” Sam said, her voice rising in panic. “Tell him, Sheriff. Tell him I have the right to leave.”
“You sure do, little lady. I’m surprised he’d try to stop you after seeing you take on that bully. Aren’t you afraid, Rich?”
“We’re pulling out in five minutes,” the driver warned. “Everybody get on board.”
Sam tried to move in that direction, but Rich was still holding on to her. “Sam, I have to talk to you.”
“No!”
“But we’ve got to talk!”
“No.” She pushed her way past him and got on the bus.
“Dad? Do you have any money on you? I forgot my wallet.”
Pete fished into his back pocket and pulled out some bills.
“Don’t let the bus leave!” Rich shouted and hurried into the store to buy his own ticket.
“What’s he doing?” Sam stuck her head out the window and shouted.
“It appears, he’s going with you,” Pete said with a grin.
“He can’t do that!”
“He has to if you won�
��t let him explain. I reckon even he can clear things up by the time you get to Denver.”
Samantha stared at Pete. The thought of having Rich beside her for eight hours was disturbing. “Pete, I have to leave.”
“Honey, if you’ll give him a chance to explain, then I’ll make sure you get where you want to go, if he hasn’t changed your mind.”
“But—you promise? I won’t have to wait until the next bus?”
“Nope.”
Rich came out of the store, heading for the bus. He didn’t even say anything to his father.
Samantha met him at the door on her way off the bus. “Sam!” he exclaimed, jerking her off the bus into his arms.
She loved being in his arms again, but she couldn’t stay. “I haven’t changed my mind. But Pete said I could go anyway, if I’d just listen to you.”
Rich let her slide down his long body and stared at her. Abruptly, he said, “Okay,” took her hand and started walking.
“Wait!” she protested. “Not—not any place private!”
Rich looked frustrated, but Pete suggested they go to the café. “You two can get a separate booth, and I’ll buy Doc and the sheriff breakfast for disturbing their morning.”
“WHY DID YOU LEAVE? We said we’d talk this morning.” Rich asked as soon as the waitress had given them cups of coffee.
Samantha kept her head down. “I know.”
“Why? I thought we would—would be together.”
She shook her head without looking up.
“Sam, what happened last night, it was going to happen sooner or later. We’re—we’re destined for each other!”
“You’re saying that because you feel responsible. It’s okay, Rich. I’m used to being alone.”
He reached across the table and stroked her cheek. “But I’m not.”
She looked up at him, surprised by his response. “That’s ridiculous. You’re not alone. You have lots and lots of family and friends.”
“Yeah, I do, but it wouldn’t matter if you leave. This happened faster than I thought, Sam, but I know I need you. I know without you, I’ll always be alone.” He stared at her, pleading with every ounce of his being.