Nash groaned, pressing his face harder against his hands. If only he'd followed her home, he told himself, maybe things would have turned out differently. But he'd been so furious with Margo, so ready to be rid of her, that he'd driven straight to his office, written her a check for her investment and delivered it to her personally, all but shoving it down her throat.
He didn't need Margo Barrister or her damned money. There were plenty of investors who'd love the opportunity to invest in his project.
But there was only one Sam.
He had seen the stricken look on her face when she'd turned away. And he knew he had to talk to her, to soothe away the ugliness Margo had painted on their relationship.
Desperate to do just that, he'd raced to the Double-Cross, but by the time he'd made it, Sam had gone and Merideth refused to tell him where.
She missed him. And Colby. So much that her heart ached like a strained muscle that no amount of massaging would help. She loved Nash. But how could she do anything that would harm him or make him unhappy? She knew how much the River Ranch project meant to him. She'd heard the excitement and pride in his voice when he'd driven her through the property, sharing his plans with her. Though she didn't agree with what he was doing with his inheritance, his heritage, she wouldn't let her presence in his life take his dreams away from him.
But oh, God, how she missed him.
Swallowing back tears, she dumped onto the counter the box of vials she'd prepared for her next call and reached for her bag.
The phone rang and Sam snagged the extension in the barn. She tucked the receiver between shoulder and ear and began to stuff the medication into her bag. "McCloud Veterinary Service."
"Oh, Sam, thank goodness I caught you!"
Sam tensed at the urgency in the woman's voice. "Nina? What's wrong?"
"It's Colby," Nina sobbed hysterically.
Sam tossed aside the vials she was holding and closed her fingers around the counter, fear gripping her heart. "What's happened? Is she hurt?"
"No, at least I don't think so. She's in the loft in the barn and she refuses to come down. She swears she'll jump if I come near her. I've called and called, trying to find Nash, but I can't locate him. Oh, please, Sam," she begged. "You've got to help me."
"I'm on my way."
* * *
Eight
« ^ »
Sam parked by the barn doors and leapt down from her truck, looking around for a sign of Nina or Colby, but not finding a trace of either.
"Hi, Sam."
Sam raised her head, shading her eyes with a hand at her brow. Colby sat in the opened doorway to the loft above her, her feet dangling over the side. Sam swallowed back the fear that lodged in her throat. "Hey, Colby," she said, trying to hide the panic in her voice. "What're you doing up there?"
"I'm on strike."
"Really? Can I strike, too?"
Colby lifted a shoulder. "Sure. Why not?"
Sam ducked inside the barn and made a beeline for the stairs that led to the loft. When she stuck her head through the opening and saw Colby leaning out the window looking down, she had to squeeze her hands into fists around the ladder's side rails to keep from tumbling right back down.
"Colby?"
The child twisted her head around, peering at Sam over her shoulder. "Yeah?"
"Honey, could you move away from the edge a little bit?"
Colby glanced down, then looked back at Sam again, frowning. "Why?"
Sam forced herself to climb the rest of the way into the loft. She pressed a hand to her middle as her stomach threatened to revolt. "I'm afraid you might fall."
Colby grinned. "Did Nina tell you I was going to jump?"
"Well," Sam replied vaguely, "she might have mentioned that."
Colby twisted back around, swinging her legs, her heels thumping against the side of the barn. "I just told her that so she'd leave me alone."
Though that should have comforted Sam, it didn't. Her stomach continued to swirl as she looked beyond Colby and saw nothing but blue sky.
Darn it! Why couldn't Colby have locked herself in her room or something? Why did she have to choose the loft? Sam had this thing about heights. She couldn't help it. Ever since she was a kid, she'd suffered the malady, and no amount of teasing or cajoling would make her climb anything higher than her head. Swallowing hard, she tried again. "How about if you scoot back just a little?"
Colby turned to look at her again, her brow furrowed. "You're scared aren't you?"
"No—well, maybe a little."
"There's nothing to be scared of. You aren't going to fall." She waved Sam on. "Come over here. The view is great."
Though it took every bit of willpower she possessed to do so, Sam took that first step. Then another, and another, until she was standing just behind Colby. She sank to the floor, closing her eyes against the dizzying sensation. "Why are we striking?" she asked weakly.
"They delivered all the equipment today to start cutting the roads." Colby leaned again, pointing. "See? It's over there by the road."
Sam grabbed for the tail of the child's T-shirt and hung on for dear life, but turned her head away, unable to look. "Yeah, I saw it all when I drove in. So what does that have to do with our strike?"
"I don't want them cutting the roads. If they do, then it won't be long before we have to move."
So that was it. Sam heaved a sigh of relief. At least the kid wasn't suicidal.
"Prisoners strike all the time," Colby explained. "They refuse to eat until the warden meets their demands."
"And you're demanding that your dad put a stop to the development of Rivers Ranch?"
"Yep. And I'm not coming down until he promises. Daddy never breaks a promise."
No, he doesn't, Sam thought, feeling a stab in her heart.
Touch me, Sam. Anywhere you want. And I swear I won't touch you back unless you ask.
And he hadn't touched her, even though she knew now how difficult that must have been for him.
"No, he doesn't break promises," she admitted slowly, her heart breaking all over again. "He's a good man."
Colby turned to her then, looking at her quizzically. "Why are you mad at my daddy?"
Stunned, Sam could only stare. "I'm not mad at him."
"He said you were and that was why you weren't going to give me any more lessons. He said you won't even return his phone calls. He said—"
A horn blasted and Colby whirled again to the open window. "Uh-oh," she murmured. "Daddy's home."
Sam felt her own stomach plummet at the news. She didn't want to see Nash. She didn't think she could bear the pain.
"And, boy, does he look mad."
"Colby Renée Rivers, you get yourself down here right this minute!"
Sam found the courage to peek out the window. Nash stood below, his hands fisted at his hips, his mouth set in a dark frown.
"No! And you can't make me," Colby yelled back. "Sam and me are on strike!"
Nash's face went slack. "Sam? She's up there with you?"
Sam inched closer, raising her head above Colby's so that he could see her. "Yeah, I'm here. Nina called me."
His gaze met hers for an instant, a split second in which Sam thought she saw pain and regret. Then he shifted his gaze to Colby, his frown returning. "Well, both of you climb down or I'm coming up!"
"Quick, Sam!" Colby whispered. "Get the ladder!"
Sam scrambled across the floor to the loft and heaved the ladder up, straining under its weight … then cursed herself for letting Colby sucker her into this. "Colby, this is ridiculous," she muttered as she crawled back to her. "If he wants up here, he can get up, with or without the ladder."
Colby narrowed an eye, peering down at her father. "Yeah, but it'll slow him down while we come up with a plan."
"What plan?" Sam asked in frustration.
"I'm not sure yet. I'm still thinking."
"Colby," Sam began, striving for reason. "Do you really think that your dad is
going to knuckle under to your demands? This is his business, for heaven's sake. He can't just quit!"
Tears brimmed in Colby's eyes and her lower lip quivered. "But I thought you were on my side, Sam. I thought you'd understand."
Her heart breaking, Sam gathered the girl close. "I am, sweetheart. And I do understand." She eased Colby to arm's length, cupping her hands at the child's shoulders. "But we can't always have what we want, no matter how badly we want it."
Sam knew, because she wanted Nash. So badly that she could hardly stand it. But she also knew she couldn't have him.
Tears slipped from Colby's eyes and slid miserably down her cheeks. "I don't want to move, Sam. I like it here."
"I know you do, sweetheart." Afraid that she'd cry herself, Sam drew in a long, shuddery breath. "Let me talk to him," she suggested softly. "I'm not promising anything, you understand. But I'll see what I can do."
Colby threw her arms around Sam's neck. "Oh, Sam! Thank you! He'll listen to you, I just know he will."
Slowly removing herself from Colby's embrace, Sam leaned to peer out the window. "We're coming down," she called out to Nash. "You can call off the National Guard."
It angered Nash that Sam could crack jokes when his heart was threatening to split wide open. Steeling himself for the confrontation, he paced to the door of the barn and waited.
First Colby, then Sam appeared in the doorway. Unable to look at Sam, Nash focused his anger on his daughter. "Colby Renée Rivers, I ought to turn you over my knee right now and blister you good. Do you have any idea the trouble you've caused? Nina is about to have a stroke, and you've made Sam drive all the way out here when I'm sure she's got better things to do with her time."
Sam stepped forward, placing a hand on Colby's slim shoulder. "I came because I wanted to," she told him firmly. "But I'd like to talk to you, if that's all right."
Startled by the request, Nash looked at her a moment before asking suspiciously, "What about?"
Ignoring his question, Sam gave Colby a light shove. "Go on to the house and check on your grandmother. This shouldn't take long." Colby obeyed, but turned when she'd passed her daddy's line of vision and shot Sam a thumbs-up sign.
In spite of her nervousness, Sam had to bite back a smile at the child's impudence.
"I've missed you, Sam."
The unexpectedness of the admission grabbed at Sam's heart. "I've missed you, too, Nash." The words were out before she could stop them. "And Colby," she added hastily.
"Then why haven't you returned any of my calls?"
Sam felt the tears coming, and turned away. She didn't want to relive this. The first time had been painful enough. "It's not important."
Nash grabbed her elbow, whirling her back around and forcing her to look at him. "It is important. Or at least it is to me. Damn it! I love you, Sam."
Sam dropped her chin to her chest, unable to meet his gaze. If she did, she was afraid she'd tumble into his arms. "Listen, Nash. I really appreciate what you did for me. You—" Embarrassed, she heaved a deep breath. "Well, you took away my fear of intimacy, and for that I'm eternally grateful."
Frightened by her refusal to look at him, Nash tightened his hold on her. "Sam, what are you saying?"
"I'm saying that there's no future for us."
At one time, Nash hadn't thought so either, but he suspected Sam's reasons might be a whole lot different from his. "Why?"
"Look at you, Nash," she said, pulling free to gesture at him. "Three-piece suits, Italian loafers. And look at me," she continued, throwing her arms out from her sides. "I'm a country girl, a veterinarian who slogs through cow manure all day. We're like oil and water. We just don't mix."
His face reddened, a muscle tensing on his jaw. "I think we mix just fine."
"Physically, yes. It's our lifestyles that don't mesh."
Because there was truth in what she said, Nash pressed his lips together, unable to form a comeback.
"I've known it from the first, but I ignored it. But when Margo said what she did—"
"Is that what this is all about? Margo?" He grabbed her arms, forcing her to face him. "Don't you realize that you mean more to me than some crazy old lady's money?"
Sam stared, unable to believe she'd heard him correctly, then she gave herself a hard shake. It didn't matter what he said. She'd made her decision. She wouldn't stand in the way of his success. She couldn't. The guilt would eat her alive.
Besides, she was here to fight Colby's battles, not her own.
"Does Colby mean that much to you, as well?" she asked.
He dropped his hands from her arms. "I can't believe you'd ask me that. You know I love Colby."
"Colby doesn't want to move."
"So what else is new?" Nash tossed up his hands in frustration. "What am I supposed to do? Just shut everything down, give all the investors their money back? Damn it, this is my job, how I make my living. She's just going to have to adjust."
"She's had to do a lot of adjusting in her life. Couldn't you cut her a little slack?"
Nash pressed his fingers at his temples. "Please. No more guilt. I live with enough as it is."
Though she wanted to reach out and comfort him, Sam kept her arms pressed at her sides. She had to do this for Colby. She was the child's only chance. "I'm not trying to burden you with guilt. I'm just trying to make you see Colby's side of this. She lost her mother and she's been uprooted three times already. She's made friends, then lost them with each of the moves. She needs some stability in her life. Roots. Whether you realize it or not, Colby's roots are here, where yours are."
He shook his head, denying her claim. "My roots are where I plant them. So are Colby's."
"Her roots are here," she argued, pointing to the ground beneath her feet. "Haven't you heard anything she's said to you? She's begged you not to divide up the ranch. She pulled up the surveyor's stakes to slow things down, to buy herself a little more time here. This afternoon she even went on strike, threatening not to eat or come down from the loft until you promised to put a halt to your plans. She was ready to battle you for what she wanted, what she needs. Isn't that enough to prove to you how strongly she feels about this place? Her roots are here!"
"Why here?" he cried in frustration. "Why can't she set down roots somewhere else?"
"In the condo you're planning to move to?"
At his defensive look, Sam pressed on. "Colby doesn't want to live in a condo, Nash. She wants to live here, where she can have her horse and ride whenever she wants. Where she can sleep in her daddy's old bedroom. Where memories of her grandparents are easily drawn. Don't take that away from her, Nash. Please, I beg you."
His jaw tensed, a muscle jumping to life there. "You're asking too much."
"Am I?" Sam stuck her hands in her pocket and took a step back. "Maybe you're asking too much of your daughter." Fearing that her heart would break if she stayed a moment longer, she turned and headed for her truck.
"Where's Sam?"
"She went home."
Nina tossed down her dishcloth and set her dripping hands at her hips as she whirled to face Nash. "And you let her?"
"W-well, yeah," he stammered, surprised by her anger. "But I didn't send her home, if that's what you're thinking. She said what she wanted to say and then she left."
Nina rolled her eyes. "You've been mooning over the woman for weeks and when you finally get a chance to talk to her, you let her leave! What you should've done was propose to her."
Propose to her? This coming from Nina? Stunned, Nash could only stare.
Nina humphed and went back to scrubbing dishes. "Colby needs a mother. I won't be around forever, you know." She cocked her head over her shoulder to look at him. "And you need a wife. It's time you got on with your life. Stacy would want that for you."
Still reeling from his conversation with Nina, Nash knocked on Colby's door, then stuck his head inside her room. She sat on her bed, a large book spread across her knees. Tears dripped from her chin
and splatted against the pages.
"Oh, Colby, baby, please don't cry," he said, crossing to sit down on the bed beside her. "Daddy's not mad at you."
"I'm not crying for me," she said, sniffling. "I'm crying for them." She pointed to the page in the book.
Nash looked over her shoulder and saw that it was the Rivers Family Bible spread open across her legs. The page she pointed to was the family tree. Each generation listed was penned by a different hand, births, marriages and deaths all neatly entered. Nash found his own name there, as well as Stacy's and Colby's. Stacy's entry was the most complete of the three—birth, marriage, death all recorded in his mother's handwriting.
Nash wrapped an arm around his daughter, hugging her to his side. "Why, sweetheart? Why are you crying for them?"
"'Cause I know they'd be sad, just like me, if they knew Rivers Ranch was going to get all cut up, and their house torn down."
Nash closed his eyes, and heaved a long breath. "Colby, we've talked about this a thousand times. I'm not a rancher, I'm a developer."
"I know that, Daddy. But don't you think it's sad? I mean, look at Sam and her family. They've lived on the Double-Cross their whole lives. They've got pictures and stories and everything, about all the McClouds who lived there before them."
"We have that, too," Nash reminded her. "We have this old Bible, plus we've got all Grandma and Grandpa's photo albums to look at."
"Yeah, but it's not going to be the same once everything changes. This old house won't be here. Whiskey's barn will be gone. There'll be nothing left to remind us of all our relatives who lived here before us. Nothing but pictures, that is." She shook her head sadly. "We won't have a place to come home to anymore. It'll all be gone."
Nash sat in the rocker on the front porch, gently rocking back and forth, Colby cradled in his lap. Fireflies blinked on and off in the distance, while the fragrant blooms of the wisteria teased at his nose. The movement of the rocker was soothing, a comfort after the miserable day he'd had. First the confrontation with Sam, then the conversation with Nina, and finally the tearful session with Colby.
THE RESTLESS VIRGIN Page 15
