by Marin Thomas
When she arrived at the SPCA, she noticed that Blue, Red and Whisper were in the paddocks. Nancy’s truck was nowhere in sight and the SPCA trailer was absent from its parking spot. Deciding to work with Blue on her own, she retrieved a grooming belt from the tack room in the horse barn. She adjusted the belt round her hips and checked to make sure she had all the proper grooming tools.
Blue had yet to allow her or anyone at the SPCA to groom him. The gelding’s wounds had healed but Sam believed the pain from his injuries was still fresh in the horse’s mind and when the brush touched the scars the animal panicked. She entered the paddock quietly, so as not to startle the animals.
Two weeks ago she’d begun a routine with Blue—wearing the grooming belt in his presence. Each time Blue had reared up or run off. Then a few days ago when Sam had entered the paddock Blue had stood his ground. She’d walked up to him and stroked his neck but had refrained from using any of the combs.
Today Blue’s ears perked when she advanced toward him and he swished his tail in welcome. Sam rubbed his nose. “Hey, Blue. How’s my favorite guy?”
He stomped his foot and, unprepared for the movement, Sam’s heart jumped inside her chest. She moved to his side, then ran her fingers lightly over the worst of the scarring across his chest and left shoulder. His muscles tensed and Sam held her breath, forcing herself to keep her hand against the puckered flesh. After a few seconds, Blue relaxed and dipped his head into the grain bucket attached to the paddock post.
Slowly, Sam removed the soft-bristled body brush from the grooming belt. Normally she’d begin with the currycomb to loosen the dirt under the horse’s hair but its rubber teeth would be too rough on Blue’s sensitive scars. She allowed Blue to sniff the brush. The horse nudged the grooming tool, then gave a warning snort.
Sam wished she could give up and leave poor Blue alone, but if she walked away now Blue would win, and he’d never allow her or anyone to groom him. She had to show Blue that she was the boss and meant him no harm.
Deep breath. Sam slipped her hand beneath the strap across the back of the brush, then held it under Blue’s nose again while she stroked his neck with her bare hand. Eventually Blue relaxed and Sam ran the bristles lightly across his hide, avoiding the scars. “See, Blue. You like this, don’t you, big guy?”
After making sure she stood out of the way of Blue’s hooves, Sam held her breath and placed the brush against the puckered flesh. Blue tensed. His belly filled with air. The whites of his eyes flashed. Sam kept the soft bristles against his scars. If she didn’t show Blue she was higher up in the herd than him she’d never earn his respect.
Sam counted to ten before moving the brush to his neck and stroking his hide. After the horse relaxed, she repeated the process and placed the brush against the scars on his chest. Blue made no threatening movement and Sam rewarded him with several love pats before she put the brush back in the grooming belt. “Good boy, Blue. That’s enough for now.”
Proud of herself for sticking to her guns she cut through the middle of the paddock toward the gate. She wasn’t sure what made her glance over her shoulder but when she did, she darn near fainted. Blue pawed the dirt, snorted and charged.
Sam wasn’t sure if it was sheer determination or stupidity that kept her from fleeing. Shoulders squared she thrust her arms out to her sides and waved them. “Stop!” she shouted, then stamped her foot.
Blue veered away at the last second, his tail slapping Sam across the face. Heart beating like a jackhammer she remained rooted to the spot, daring Blue to charge again. Sides heaving the gelding dropped his head and slowly walked toward her, then gently nudged her chest with his nose. Tears welled in Sam’s eyes. Blue had conceded defeat. Dear, God, she’d won.
With shaky hands she stroked his nose. “I’ll never hurt you, Blue.” After a few more pats, Sam once again turned her back on the horse and walked to the gate. A docile Blue followed. Before she left the paddock she fished a carrot from her pocket. “You and I are going to be good friends, Blue.”
“ARE YOU SURE MISS SAM WANTS us to go fishing with her, Dad?”
“Positive.” Wade turned the BMW onto the freshly graded and graveled road leading to the Peterson farm. Samantha had phoned his office and invited him and Luke out to the property Saturday to fish and picnic. Even though the weather forecast predicted late-afternoon thunderstorms, Wade had jumped at the chance to do something other than shovel dirt on his day off. And spending time with Samantha was hardly a chore.
Wade had used the long drive to the ranch to rehearse what he’d say to Samantha about her trust fund. He’d carried a hefty load of guilt on his shoulder since their lunch this past Wednesday.
He was ashamed to admit Samantha’s kiss at Beulah’s had caught him off guard and derailed his confession. Part of him was glad he hadn’t been forthright with her. He cared for Samantha and he admitted he’d gotten a little cocky when he’d realized she was attracted to him. The fact that she was nice to Luke and that his son liked Samantha, too, had Wade contemplating the future. He hadn’t been looking for a serious relationship when Samantha exploded into his life but now he had trouble picturing a future without her. He knew if they were to have a chance together he had to fess up.
“Did you tell her we can’t fish?” Luke squinted out the window.
“I forgot.”
“She’s gonna guess when we get our lines tangled.”
“Maybe Samantha will give us a few pointers and we’ll do better.”
Wade parked next to the corrals, well away from the construction crew hard at work putting the finishing touches on the new barn.
“Look, Dad.” Luke pointed to a brand-new single-wide trailer sitting near the decrepit farmhouse.
“Must belong to one of the workers.” He hoped so. He’d cashed in a CD to pay for the barn. He prayed by the time Samantha decided whether to demolish the farmhouse or renovate the place he’d have recovered her money.
Speaking of money…Damn his uncle. The man hadn’t returned Wade’s calls. Wade had questioned the firm’s top executives about the company’s investment activities, but the employees insisted they knew nothing about Charles’s recent actions.
“How big do you think the fish are?” Luke unsnapped his seat belt.
“Why don’t you ask Miss Samantha? She’s headed our way.” Wade stepped from the car, his eyes soaking up the vision marching toward them. Today her long ponytail poked out the back of a Sooners baseball cap. Her tight jeans had holes in the knees and a faded Sooners T-shirt clung to her curves.
“Hey, guys. Glad you could make it.” She ruffled Luke’s hair.
“You went to college at the University of Oklahoma?” Wade gestured to the logo on her T-shirt.
“No, my brother Matt did.”
Wade wanted to ask what college she’d attended but Luke interrupted. “Where are we gonna fish, Miss Sam?”
“There’s a pond on the other side of the property. Millicent’s packing our lunch.” Samantha slid Luke’s glasses up his nose. “Why don’t you see if she needs help.”
As soon as Luke was out of earshot, Wade nodded to the trailer. “What’s this?”
“My new home.”
“You bought the trailer for yourself?”
“I got a smokin’ deal on it.” She chuckled. “My father’s high-school classmate owns an RV dealership.”
“What kind of smokin’ deal?” Wade braced himself, praying he wouldn’t have to put his condo on the market and move into the local YMCA before this ordeal with Samantha’s trust fund was resolved.
“I got it for free.”
“Free?” She had to be pulling his leg.
“It’s a showroom trailer. Mr. Henderson said I could borrow it as long as I needed.”
The tight band around Wade’s chest loosened. “They’re making good progress on the barn.”
She snapped her fingers. “I forgot to mention at lunch the other day—”
That dreaded word forgot
set off warning bells in Wade’s head.
“—next on my to-do list is the old barn. The construction crew’s returning next week to begin repairs on that, so I’ll have additional storage for feed and equipment.”
If you don’t tell her about her missing trust fund she won’t stop with the renovations.
“How many horses do you intend to take in?”
Coward.
“Three to begin with.” Her smile rivaled the hot noon sun. “My favorite of the group is Blue. He’s a twenty-year-old gray Arabian.” She motioned to her temporary home. “That’s why I had the trailer delivered. Once the barn is ready the SPCA will bring the horses.”
A burning sensation erupted in Wade’s chest. He felt as if he was running from an avalanche, trying to keep ahead of the fast-moving snow but losing ground with each step. “I like the baseball cap,” he said, silently cursing. The compliment hadn’t come out the way he’d intended. He’d meant to say she looked especially pretty today.
“Thanks.” She wiggled the toe of her boot in the dirt, and he wondered if she’d thought about their kiss at Beulah’s as much as he had. Before the strain became unbearable, Millicent and Luke emerged from the shanty.
“Would you mind bringing Millicent’s rocking chair along?” Samantha asked.
“Sure.” Wade dragged the heavy oak chair to the truck, then lifted it into the bed. Samantha added a picnic basket and Wade fetched the cooler of drinks he’d volunteered to bring.
Millicent and Luke sat in the backseat, and Wade joined Samantha in the front. Instead of driving to the main road, Samantha turned the truck around and headed past the old barn where she picked up a dirt trail barely wide enough to accommodate the truck. After a mile of bumping along, she said, “The pond’s beyond that grouping of trees ahead.”
Samantha stopped the truck at the top of an incline that overlooked a small oasis in the middle of dry, dusty farmland. An ancient tree towered among smaller oaks encircling a pond the size of an Olympic-size swimming pool. Clumps of wildflowers grew along the water’s edge and shade dotted the sparse grass beneath the trees.
“Where does the water supply come from?” he asked.
“A natural spring.” Samantha drove forward a few yards, then parked.
Interesting. The drilling company Wade called had insisted the water table sat several hundred feet belowground. Wade would have wasted Samantha’s money if not for Millicent’s water-witching talents. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why Samantha hadn’t told him about the pond’s existence. Had he been aware of the natural spring, he’d have challenged the drilling company’s quote and possibly received a lower bid, sparing him sore muscles and blisters from hours of digging.
Then you wouldn’t have had an excuse to spend the weekends with Samantha.
“What kind of fish are we gonna catch, Miss Sam?” Luke hopped out of the backseat.
“Bluegill and sunfish.” Samantha helped Millicent out of the truck.
“Caught me a bluegill last week,” the old woman boasted. She placed her bony hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Ever skinned a fish?”
“Nope.”
“Ya best catch one so I can show ya how it’s done.”
Luke removed his shoes and poked his toes in the water while Wade dragged Millicent’s rocking chair to the edge of the pond, then repositioned it three times until the old woman was satisfied with the spot. Samantha spread a quilt beneath the trees and Wade set the picnic basket and cooler at opposite corners to prevent the blanket from blowing away.
After Samantha and Wade unloaded the fishing gear, Millicent was the first to cast her line across the pond, while Samantha showed Luke how to bait a hook.
“Yuck.” Luke pinched the end of his nose when Samantha removed the lid from a shallow plastic dish.
“Stink bait,” she said. “And these are nightcrawlers.” She popped the lid off another container.
“They’re still alive,” Luke protested.
“That’s because the fish won’t bite if they’re not wiggling on the hook. Which bait do you want to use?”
“A worm.”
Wade grinned at his son’s less-than-enthusiastic response. Once Samantha had the worm on the hook, she adjusted the tension on the line and handed the pole to Luke, and he cast the line.
“Good job. Now hold the pole steady.” His son beamed under Samantha’s praise. “That’s perfect. If you feel a tug on the line give a shout.” She moved sideways, bumping Wade. “Sorry.”
“She fell asleep.” He motioned to Millicent.
“Wait until a fish tugs on the line.” Samantha smiled affectionately at the old woman. “She’ll pop out of the chair like a jack-in-the-box.”
Wade studied Samantha’s profile, awed by her beauty. He wanted to slip off the baseball cap and free her hair from the elastic band. Then bury his face in the soft strands.
“Wade?”
He shook his head to declutter his brain. “What?”
“Let’s sit in the shade.”
More than happy to oblige, he followed her to the blanket. “How’s your father taking the news of your plans?” He stretched out alongside her.
“Better than I expected.”
She didn’t elaborate, but he suspected Dominick Cartwright had strongly objected. Wade admired Samantha for standing up to her father. He wanted to ask about her relationship with Dominick but worried the topic would lead to a conversation about her trust fund, which he intended to bring up at the end of the picnic.
“May I ask you a personal question?” She fluttered her long, dark lashes.
“Sure.”
“Why did you divorce Luke’s mother?”
The blood in his veins cooled and Wade swung his gaze to the pond. He wasn’t opposed to discussing his marriage to Carmen, but he feared he might come up short in Samantha’s eyes.
“Carmen is the daughter of one of the firm’s clients. We were introduced at a business meeting.” Wade was ashamed to admit he’d been sucked in by Carmen’s pretty face and flattering attention. What he hadn’t discovered until too late was that his wife lost interest in people quickly. Wade had had the unfortunate luck of being transferred to Carmen’s been-there-done-that list not too long after tying the knot. “When Luke was born Carmen handed over the child-rearing duties to me and various housekeepers.”
“Not all women are cut out to be mothers,” Samantha said.
She sounded defensive and he wondered if she didn’t care for the idea of motherhood, either. He must have misinterpreted her reaction. Samantha was too patient and kind with Luke to not want to be a mother.
“When our relationship deteriorated,” Wade continued, “I kept hoping things would improve, but the truth was Carmen had become bored with our marriage.”
The corner of Samantha’s mouth curved. “You’re kidding, right?”
“I’m serious.”
Samantha collapsed on the blanket and giggled.
“What’s so funny?” Resting on his elbow, he leaned closer.
Splotches of red appeared on her cheeks. “I think you’re plenty exciting,” she whispered. “I’m never bored when I’m with you.”
His ego inflated, threatening to burst. He brushed his lips across Samantha’s. He would have pulled away but her hand snuck around his neck, keeping his mouth against her.
Lips caressed. Tongues played. Hot…heavy…
“I caught a fish!” Luke shouted.
Samantha sprang from the blanket and sprinted to the edge of the pond. Wade stayed behind, willing his body to cool off.
“Look, Dad. Miss Sam says it’s a bluegill.” Luke held up the fishing line.
“Congratulations!” Wade discreetly adjusted his pants and joined the duo at the pond.
“Now it’s your father’s turn,” Samantha said, her gaze pinning him. “Maybe he’ll get lucky and catch…something.”
Or someone.
Chapter Eleven
“Will Luke be okay wi
th Millicent?” Wade asked, staring out the window of Samantha’s trailer. The torrential downpour had turned the ranch yard into a mud bog.
With each passing second Sam’s hopes for a romantic evening were fading. “They’ll be fine,” she said. As for her and Wade…Since they’d entered the trailer, he’d paced the small enclosure like a caged animal searching for an escape route.
“That shack probably leaks like a sieve,” he grumbled.
Swallowing a sigh, she peered out the window. “Barney nailed down new shingles not long ago.”
“What if the storm worsens?”
Sam swallowed sigh number two. She’d flipped on the weather radio when they’d returned from fishing and learned the severe storms had passed west of the area. Already the rain had eased up. “Sky’s clearing.”
Wade stopped at her side. “There could be another line of storms following this one.” He tilted his head, bringing their faces closer—dark lashes blinked behind his glasses.
A pang sliced through Sam, and she backed away. She hadn’t set out to seduce Wade, but Millicent had handed her a gift when the old woman had suggested Luke spend the night with her learning how to clean and smoke fish. Meanwhile Sam wanted Wade to stay with her—preferably in her bed.
But he appeared determined to thwart her plans. Maybe that was best. There could be no future with Wade. Why deepen a relationship that would end before ever getting off the ground?
Because Wade’s special and you’re falling in love with him.
Sam should have guarded her heart more closely around Wade, but she hadn’t the energy or willpower to deny herself the pleasure of being with him. Wade made her feel alive again. He was good for her ego, good for her self-esteem…just plain good for her.
“We should have returned to Tulsa after the first downpour,” he said.
Frustrated, Sam set about tidying the kitchen. The group had arrived at the trailer before the first rain shower and instead of the cookout she’d planned, they’d eaten boiled hot dogs. A break in the weather followed an hour of board games, then Luke and Millicent had dodged puddles to her cabin.
