by Marin Thomas
Wade stood, then slapped at the dust on his hands, the sound ending Sam’s fantasy. “Are you sure there’s water?” he asked Millicent.
“Ya callin’ me a liar?” The old woman waved the switch in the air and Sam feared she intended to smack Wade with the branch.
“A sixty-foot hole can’t be that difficult to dig.” Wade studied the ground.
“Oh, no,” Sam said. “You’re not—”
Wade’s gaze shifted from the ground to Sam’s face. “Why pay a drilling company over a hundred thousand dollars when we can dig the well ourselves?”
“We?” Sam had no intention of shoveling dirt. There were too many other items on her to-do list that needed to be tackled.
“Yes, you and me,” Wade confirmed.
Luke jumped up and down. “I can help, too!”
“What do you say?” Wade’s eyes lit with excitement. If playing in the dirt thrilled the man this much, then he needed a vacation from his job.
Hating to see the boy get his hopes up, Sam said, “I doubt your mom would want you to risk getting hurt, Luke.”
“My mom won’t care. Besides I spend most of my time with my dad.”
Confused, Sam glanced at Wade and he said, “Luke’s mom and I are divorced.”
That explained the absence of a ring, but not the twitter of excitement that raced through Sam. Her gaze traveled over Wade’s body. “You’re not exactly the well-digging type.” The sparkle dimmed in his eyes and Sam cursed herself for being blunt, then shrugged off her concern—no way would a man like Wade care what she thought of him. “I’m not worried about saving money,” she insisted. “Now that Millicent located the water, the drilling company should be able to dig and cap the well in less than a day.”
“Permits take time,” he argued.
“Not that long. I’ll phone the owner of the company and ask if they can squeeze—”
“You said you didn’t want your father learning about this ranch until you’d whipped it into shape. How will you keep the news from him if you hire professionals?”
Why hadn’t Sam considered this complication before? As soon as the drilling company learned the client was a Cartwright they’d contact her father. No one dug a hole anywhere in Oklahoma without Dominick Cartwright being informed.
“C’mon, Samantha. People dug wells by hand all the time in the olden—” Wade glanced at Millicent.
“Watch yerself,” the witch warned.
“I’ll research how to dig a well,” Luke chimed in.
Sam nibbled her lip, unsure how to proceed.
“Please,” Luke begged.
Wade’s son was so darned cute she hadn’t the heart to upset him. Once her father flew off to Europe, she’d be free to contact a drilling company if the do-it-yourself well-digging project came to a standstill. “Fine. Let’s begin digging next Sunday.”
“Why not Saturday?” Wade asked.
“My brother’s wedding is Saturday.” Hadn’t she mentioned Matt’s wedding to Wade? “We’ll meet here bright and early Sunday morning.”
“It’s a date,” Wade confirmed.
A date? She supposed digging a well was about as exciting a date as any for a nerd.
“UNCLE CHARLES, I ASSURE YOU this is no snafu,” Wade argued over the telephone Monday evening. After three days of leaving voice mails and text messages, the man had finally surfaced.
“Now, Wade—”
He hated when his uncle used that tone with him—as if Wade was a ten-year-old boy.
“Have my secretary—”
Veronica the airhead.
“—check with our systems analyst. The man’s sharp as a whip.”
Implying Wade was not. “I’ve already put a call in to the man.”
“Good. He’ll fix the commuter glitch and you’ll be fine.” His uncle congratulated his golf partner on a nice putt, then resumed the conversation. “My boy, if you’re hoping for a vice president position you’ll have to prove you’re capable of handling a crisis on your own.”
“Aren’t you the least interested in learning which client’s money is missing?” His uncle hadn’t asked, making Wade suspicious. He couldn’t believe his uncle would intentionally tamper with a client’s portfolio unless the old man intended to put Wade through some kind of test before offering a promotion.
“I trust you to handle the situation.”
Even though his uncle professed to be proud of Wade’s accomplishments, Wade suspected the man was irritated that his nephew had ended up working for Dawson Investments and not his son, Jarrod, who’d shocked the family with his marriage to Richard. The happy couple lived in California and rarely kept in touch with the family.
“When do you intend to return to the office?” Wade asked.
“Not for a while. I’m heading to Dubai after I leave Scotland.”
The firm had no clients in Dubai. Maybe his uncle hoped to land an account there. They’d need a new client or two or three, not to mention a good lawyer if Dawson Investments was held responsible for Samantha Cartwright’s missing millions. “I’ll keep you posted on what the systems analyst says.”
“Don’t do anything rash, young man.” Click.
Wade scrutinized his reflection in the floor-to-ceiling glass windows of his condo and wondered if his uncle would ever view him as anything other than the needy kid he’d been forced to take in upon his sister’s death. Wade doubted he’d ever earn enough points with his uncle to gain forgiveness for whatever sins his mother had committed against the family. Maybe it was time he stop trying.
“Look, Dad.” Luke waltzed into the living room and spread an assortment of papers on the coffee table. “Instructions on how to dig a well.” After visiting Samantha’s property, his son had spent hours researching information on water witches, dowsing and digging wells the old-fashioned way—by hand.
“I see you’ve been surfing the Net again,” Wade said.
“Yep.”
Before his son spouted off a million facts and figures, he asked, “Did you check in with your mother?”
For the past year Carmen had neglected the visitation schedule they’d agreed upon in the divorce settlement. Instead of Wade spending weekends with his son, Luke often remained the entire week when Carmen traveled with her new fiancé. Not that Wade complained. He enjoyed spending extra time with his son. He never broached the subject with Luke, but Wade suspected when Carmen married again she’d ask Wade to assume full custody of their son.
“I texted Mom. She said hi.”
Wade doubted Carmen had bothered to send along a greeting, but appreciated that Luke cared about his father’s feelings. “Okay, let’s see your research.” Wade sat on the sofa and perused the documents. He’d convinced Samantha that digging a well by hand would be faster and cheaper than hiring professionals. He hoped to hell he’d been right. “Give me the short version, Luke.”
“We dig a round hole four feet across. And you’re supposed to keep checking the sides of the well while you dig to make sure the walls don’t cave in.”
Good point. If he ended up buried beneath a hundred pounds of Oklahoma red clay he’d never locate Samantha’s missing money. “Then what?”
“Once the hole is too deep to toss the shovelful of dirt over the side you have to rig up a bucket system.”
“Does it show a picture?” Wade studied the sketch of the crude pulley system Luke handed him.
“When you hit water,” his son continued, “you have to use a different kind of shovel.”
“Oh?”
“A flat one with a short handle.”
“Anything else?”
“We need a spud bar to pry rocks loose and a clamshell posthole digger.”
Luke droned on about installing casings to prevent the sides of the hole from caving in, but Wade’s mind wandered to Samantha. How could a woman her age and with her beauty still be single?
Was she nursing a broken heart or was she too picky when it came to men? Not that it m
attered one way or another. He didn’t stand a chance with her. As much as he admired her beauty and determination he’d have to settle for fantasizing about the oil heiress.
“Can we do it, Dad?”
Luke’s question snapped Wade out of his reverie. “Do what?”
“Dig a well.” His son’s expression mirrored both excitement and doubt.
“We’ll give it our best shot.” Wade didn’t mind getting dirty or working up a sweat, but a handyman he was not. He’d grown up without a male role model to demonstrate how to pound a nail or measure and saw a board. When it had come to fixing a clogged sink or cleaning out the gutters Wade’s uncle had hired a plumber or a yard service company.
The idea Wade might fail bothered him more than he cared to admit. He’d hate to embarrass himself in front of Sam again by bumbling the well-digging project—or worse, ending up in a predicament that required Samantha to rescue him.
“Miss Samantha’s really pretty.”
Had Luke guessed where his father’s thoughts had drifted? “Yes, she is.”
“And she’s really nice.”
Oh, boy. Luke was developing a crush on the cowgirl—another sign that his son needed more attention from Carmen. Wade suspected Luke would be thrilled if his father and Samantha dated. Wade might be tempted to test the waters with her if he wasn’t already overcommitted—taking care of Luke more days than not while squeezing in sixty-hour work weeks. If those weren’t good enough reasons to avoid a relationship with Samantha, then the firm losing her millions clinched the deal.
“She asked me what I liked most about school.”
That must have been when Wade was busy arguing with Millicent over her dowsing abilities.
“I told her science.” Luke flipped through the diagrams of well-digging equipment. “She said she used to like school, then it got too hard.”
Hardly a surprise. Samantha had probably focused her time and energy on boys, parties and clothes rather than her studies.
“Dad?”
“What?”
“If you and Mom get married again we could all live in the same house.”
Ah, damn. His son understood the meaning of divorce, but Luke continued to struggle with feelings of abandonment after Wade had moved out of the family home. Luke might have adjusted better if Carmen hadn’t quit being a mother. Carmen’s frequent overnight trips with various boyfriends before she’d become engaged again had reinforced the boy’s feelings of insecurity. Carmen hadn’t even tried to pretend Luke was her number one priority.
“Your mom and I are never getting back together but that doesn’t mean we aren’t still a family.” Sort of.
“Are you gonna marry someone else?”
“Maybe, but I’m in no hurry.” The notion of living alone the rest of his life didn’t appeal to Wade and he hoped one day when Luke was older he’d fall in love with a nice woman and give marriage another try.
“Do you want more kids?”
“Heck no.” Wade flashed a fake scowl. “You’re too much trouble as it is.”
“Yeah, right, Dad.”
He ruffled his son’s hair. “Why don’t you head into the kitchen and see what we’ve got in the freezer for dinner. I need to make a quick call.” As soon as Luke left the room, Wade dialed Samantha’s cell phone number. He wanted to be sure she had no plans to back out of their well-digging deal.
“Hello?”
Wade cleared his throat. “Samantha, this is Wade Dawson.”
“Hello, Wade.”
The smoky sound of his name rolling off her tongue triggered a blip in his heartbeat.
“I apologize for disturbing you when you’re busy with family and the wedding, but I wanted to assure you that I intend to show up at the Peterson property next Sunday to begin digging the well.”
Silence—not even breath sounds on the other end of the line. “Samantha? Are you there?”
“Wade—”
His heart blipped faster.
“—I want to thank you for trying to save me money, but I’ve spoken with my brothers and they’re recommending I call in professionals to dig the well.”
Wade’s heart skidded to a rubber-burning stop. “Let’s see how much progress I make before we change plans?”
“I won’t be able to drive out to the property Sunday. My father’s planned a family breakfast before my brother and his wife leave on their honeymoon.”
“No problem. Luke and I should be fine.”
“Wade, you can’t dig the well by yourself.”
“Who says?” A bead of sweat rolled down his temple. “Luke and I have already done the research and it’s a straightforward process.” Feeling childish, he crossed his fingers behind his back.
“I’m not sure it’s wise for Luke to be out there. I’d hate for him to get hurt.” Samantha cared more about Luke’s safety than Wade’s ex-wife.
“The witch, I mean Millicent, will be around to keep an eye on Luke.”
“Thanks just the same but—”
“Wait. Samantha, please don’t back out. Luke and I have been looking forward to a father-son outing for a long time.” If Wade crossed his fingers any tighter the skin on his knuckles would split open.
Silence.
“Luke’s told a few friends about the project already and we purchased the tools and equipment earlier today.” His damned fingers throbbed.
A sigh filtered through the connection. “All right, but if you run into problems—”
“We won’t.” Wade hoped the witch knew her stuff. “Enjoy the wedding festivities next weekend and I’ll phone you Sunday evening with an update.”
“Sure.”
“Best wishes to the bride and groom.” Wade hung up before Samantha had a chance to respond, fearing if their goodbye dragged on he’d sound desperate. He pried his fingers apart. All he had to do now was dig a sixty-foot hole in the ground by hand.
The way he figured, if he didn’t hit water, he’d have already dug his own grave.
Chapter Five
Late Sunday morning Samantha parked her truck next to Wade’s black BMW in front of the Peterson farmhouse. She’d intended to arrive earlier but Matt and Amy’s send-off breakfast had lasted longer than expected. Then she’d twiddled her thumbs while her father had packed his bags for a business trip. Thank goodness Duke had offered to drive him to the ranch airstrip, freeing the way for Samantha to leave.
She drummed her fingers against the steering wheel. The tap, tap, tapping habit had developed in the later days of her recovery from brain surgery when impatience had outpaced progress. Sam closed her eyes and drew in deep, slow breaths. Doubts—the big scary kind—had increased in size and frequency since her visit to Dawson Investments over a week ago.
The small notebook tucked away in the glove compartment reminded her that she’d taken precautions in preparing for this venture. The day she’d contacted a Realtor she’d begun recording the date, time and topic of each meeting, phone call or discussion involving the purchase of the property. She’d done everything possible to guarantee the success of this project. Or had she?
Most days Sam ignored the insecurity that had become a part of her life since her accident sixteen years ago. The fact that this was the first time she’d embarked on a mission without the help of her brothers or father fueled her worry and confusion.
Had she made a mistake reaching for her own dream?
No. Have a little faith in yourself, Sam.
The past eight years she’d worked in her father’s office she’d saved most of her salary and had used the money to purchase this homestead. Come hell or high water she’d open a sanctuary ranch and by doing so she’d learn to trust herself and gain the respect and confidence of others.
The memory of Bo’s daughter was never far away. Emily. Sweet, innocent Emily had wandered off and gotten lost for hours because of Sam’s absentmindedness. Sam couldn’t change the past and as much as she’d love to be a mother she was better off sinking all her
time and energy into saving horses.
Her thoughts shifted to Wade digging her well. Good grief. This was the twenty-first century. No one dug a well by hand—especially financial advisers. She doubted the man got his clothes dirty often. She could end all this nonsense by firing Wade as her financial adviser but she hated to disappoint Luke if the boy had his heart set on helping his father.
Her stomach churned with new worry—was there more behind digging the well than Wade let on? Instinct insisted he had her best interests at heart. But…No buts. Wade had given her no reason to believe he’d lead her astray.
Shoving the reservations to the back of her mind, she marched across the yard. When she rounded the corner of the barn she stopped and stared. So much for a father-son project. Luke sat on the ground beneath the hackberry tree reading to Millicent, who fumbled with a new pouch of tobacco. A Folgers coffee can rested in the dirt by her feet. Wade had paid Millicent for her water-witching services. His thoughtfulness warmed Sam’s heart.
Wade stood with his back to her, wearing a long-sleeve sweat-soaked chambray shirt, jeans that hugged his academic butt and a pair of brand-new work boots. He glanced at the three-foot hole in the ground near his feet, shoved his glasses up his nose, then studied the piece of paper in his hand.
“Samantha,” Luke called, when he noticed her. The boy scrambled to his feet and raced toward her. “Look at this. It’s Millicent’s family Bible and she said it belonged to her great-grandmother.”
“That makes it really old.” Sam glanced at Wade and noted his mouth hung open in surprise. Had he really expected her to stay away today?
“Yeah, like a hundred and ninety years.” Luke pointed to the date written inside the Bible. “Eighteen-nineteen.”
“Wow. That is old.”
“Millicent’s relatives are written here—” he flipped to the page of names scrawled in various people’s handwriting “—and it says who married who. See?” Luke’s finger traced the faded print. “Millicent said her cousin Jack rode with Teddy Roosevelt and the Rough Riders.”
