“I can’t do this anymore.” Laurel was glad she was able to get the words out without her voice breaking.
“I know.” Sam sighed as he brushed his lips over the spot where he’d bit her. “I wish I could be the guy you deserve, Laurel.”
Somehow Laurel thought Sam could be that guy—even with the whole jumping out of airplanes part of his life. But he had closed off his heart when his wife had died. Laurel had already been refused a man’s love once, although this time stung a lot more than Bryce’s rejection had. But she always had Tyson. Once again, her son’s unconditional love would have to be enough.
Sam fell back onto the mattress, exhaustion already claiming his body. Laurel slipped from the bed, spreading a blanket over Sam before gathering up her clothes.
“Laurel.” His voice was raspy with sleep as he called out to her. “Stop trying to deny who you are. Tyson could do a lot worse than having a mother who’s a starving artist. Bryce shouldn’t be the only one allowed to go after his dreams.”
She hurried down the stairs so that Sam wouldn’t hear her sobs.
*
Sam set the stopwatch on his phone and glanced up at the rookie suspended from the jump tower. “You have two minutes to get your ass out of that tree, McCoy,” he shouted. “Starting now!”
McCoy quickly checked to make sure his parachute was securely hung up on the jump tower that was doubling as a ‘tree’ before determining all of its suspension lines were clear of his body. He then released his reserve parachute and his PG pack. Reaching into the right pant leg of his jump suit, he pulled out a carabiner and two friction rings that were sewn into the pocket. Then he pulled out about eight feet of the letdown tape that was housed in the pants, quickly and efficiently threading the tape through the rings and wrapping it around his body twice. With a one-armed pull up, McCoy pulled the tape taut and tied it off with a slip-knot. Keeping the slack tight, he untied the letdown tape from his pocket and let it drop to the ground. He shifted his weight from the harness to the letdown tape and began the slow, smooth descent to the ground. The crew of smokejumpers that were watching McCoy’s progress applauded when he landed safely.
“A minute fifty,” Sam called out. “Excellent, McCoy.” He turned to address the rest of the rookies, now down to ten at the beginning of week two. “It’s imperative that you all master the letdown procedure. A limb landing is a big deal because it holds up the rest of the team. The spotter can’t drop the cargo until he or she knows everyone is on the ground. These are minutes that matter when it comes to fire fighting. The whole operation has to stop until they get your ass out of that tree. Only three of you managed to get down in under two minutes. The rest of you had better spend tonight working on that letdown procedure or you won’t be making your training jump tomorrow.”
The rookies groaned while the veterans laughed. A few of the old-timers offered to help out the rookies in exchange for having their trucks washed. Sam left them to it and headed inside to his office. The ten remaining rookies would finally be jumping from an actual airplane tomorrow. While there wouldn’t be any danger they’d get hung up on a tree—they’d be landing in pasture—things could still go wrong. Each of them would have a radio in their pocket with an experienced smokejumper calling out guidance during their jump, but Sam believed in preparing for every contingency.
The fire season was fast approaching and he was anxious that he be fully prepared for what awaited him. Throwing himself into his work also meant he spent less time at his cabin. Sam hadn’t realized how lonely he was in the A-frame until he’d woken up the morning after Laurel had been there. His pillow still bore her scent a week later. Every time he got in the shower, he saw her there against the tile, flushed and eager to give herself to him.
Sam wasn’t accustomed to craving a woman the way his body wanted Laurel’s. Even worse, he missed her. He missed her quick wit, her cocky smile, and her impulsive nature. She’d gotten under his skin and he wasn’t sure how to get her out. So he buried himself in work.
“Sam,” Jacqui called as he passed the reception desk, “you have a message here from Wayne Keenan.”
He strolled back over to the front of the two-story lobby. From where she sat, Jacqui had a bird’s eye view of her late husband’s parachute. Sam wasn’t sure if the sight of it brought her great pain or peace, but regardless, Jacqui was always on task. Her presence at the base had brought a little calm and order these past two weeks and Sam was appreciative of her professionalism.
“Did he say what he wanted?” Sam asked.
Jacqui exchanged a look with Miranda Ferguson. The pilot had the next day’s jump schedule spread out on the reception desk.
“He just asked if you could stop by the ranch this evening,” Jacqui replied.
Sam swallowed a groan. He’d purposely been avoiding Whispering Breeze this past week so as not to run into Laurel. Seeing her without being able to touch her would be too much torture. And he wanted to do the gentlemanly thing by honoring her decision—no matter how much it killed him. But if something was wrong with Tabitha, Sam needed to check it out. He swore under his breath.
“Hey, Jacqui, do you want to grab some dinner?” Miranda was saying. “Laurel is off in Kalispell tonight at a study seminar, but Ivy and I are going to check out the new Thai restaurant.”
Miranda was looking at Sam as she spoke, not being shy about the message she was telegraphing. Jacqui bit back a smile as she glanced between the pilot and Sam. “Um, yeah, that sounds fun.”
They gazed at him expectantly. Sam blew out a resigned sigh. He was being handled by these two women who likely knew all about his and Laurel’s brief fling. Being women, they probably had some sort of romantic notion that things would work out between them.
They’d be wrong.
“You sure you didn’t have a career in covert ops?” he asked Miranda.
She laughed. “I have four brothers, captain.”
“Mmm.” Sam nodded. “I’ll head over to the ranch after I check those jump schedules for tomorrow.” He took the schedules from Miranda and headed back to his office, knowing both women were smiling smugly as he walked away.
An hour later, Sam pulled up the long drive toward the ranch. He parked his truck in the roundabout. Sam was relieved that Laurel’s Land Cruiser was nowhere in sight. Cheech and Chong, the two alpacas, were standing in their pen humming loudly, presumably calling for their dinner. Truman the goat trotted out of the barn to greet Sam, but he was quickly distracted by a bale of hay.
Sam decided to check on Tabitha before seeking out Keenan. He strolled into the barn, pulling up short when he saw a woman in a wheelchair outside of the wash stall. Precocious green eyes, so like her daughter’s, met his. She was holding the lead rope with Tabitha attached to the other end. The mare was standing patiently while Wayne Keenan held her hoof in a bucket of water. Smiling kindly, Laurel’s mother gestured for him to come closer.
“I’m so glad you’re here, captain,” she said. “I’ve been wondering when I’d finally meet you.”
Sam approached cautiously. Jo Keenan was wearing the identical smug look Miranda had been sporting an hour ago, as if she knew all and she was determined for a different outcome.
“What happened to her?” he asked.
Wayne Keenan looked up from his crouched position next to Tabitha. “Abscess. Laurel felt it as soon as she got on her today. The girl is like the princess and the pea. She can detect even the slightest change in a horse’s gait days before it goes lame. The farrier has been by and she took off the shoe. We caught it early, so she’ll only need a few days of soaking and this girl will be right as rain by the weekend.” He patted Tabitha’s withers.
Sam stroked a finger done the horse’s nose. “That’s good. Whatever she needs to heal, I’m happy to foot the bill.”
“She just needs a little TLC, that’s all,” Jo Keenan said. Tabitha dipped her head into the woman’s lap. Jo planted a kiss on the horse’s nose.
&nbs
p; Relief warred with a bit of envy as Sam took in the scene before him. Becky’s horse had moved on, transferring its devotion to another. He was glad for the bond between both the animal and the disabled woman. Yet something inside of him wanted to rail that Tabitha would always be Becky’s horse.
“She’ll have to heal fast. I have some potential buyers headed up from California this weekend.”
Keenan’s words were like a sucker punch to Sam’s gut. “You have buyers interested already?”
“I posted some videos this weekend of Laurel working her through some drills. She made the mare look amazing,” Keenan said proudly.
Sam swallowed roughly. He’d always known he’d sell the horse. He just wasn’t prepared for the tumult of emotions that would come along with Tabitha leaving. She was his last connection to Becky. Even more troubling, the mare was his link to Laurel Keenan. Once Tabitha was gone, he’d have no excuse to visit the ranch.
“Of course…” Jo Keenan interrupted his thoughts. “If you’re not eager to sell yet, Tabitha could always stay here and Laurel and I could take her to the Quarter Horse Congress in the fall. Not to brag or anything, but my daughter is your best chance of winning.” The woman eyed him shrewdly. “The horse will be worth more then. Unless you need the money a sale would bring now.”
Sam bristled. “This has never been about the money. It’s been about honoring my late wife’s wishes.”
“Which was for Tabitha to ride at the national level?”
He nodded brusquely.
Jo Keenan gave him a coy look as she patted Tabitha’s nose. “It’s settled then. Tabitha will stay here at Whispering Breeze and Laurel will take her to the championship.”
Wayne Keenan opened his mouth to say something, but his wife silenced him with a look. He shot Sam a resigned glance. “If that’s what everyone wants.”
Sam wasn’t sure what had just happened. The smart thing to do would be to sell the horse and get rid of the temptation Laurel Keenan presented. But Sam clearly wasn’t thinking with his brain right now. His relief at still having a connection with Laurel was palpable.
“What if she doesn’t want to do it?” he asked.
Laurel’s mother smiled knowingly. “You leave her to me, captain.”
With a roll of his eyes, Wayne Keenan led the horse back to its stall.
“Will you stay for supper, captain? It’s just the three of us tonight, but I made a pot roast.” Jo Keenan looked at him expectantly.
The only thing in Sam’s refrigerator was a frozen pizza. His stomach rumbled embarrassingly at the mention of food.
Wayne Keenan slapped him on the shoulder as he passed by. “It’s no use arguing with her, son. And you won’t get a better meal anywhere in Glacier Creek.”
Supper with the Keenans and Tyson was more relaxing than Sam expected. Months of eating alone or among strangers at a restaurant had made him forget the joy of a simple family dinner. Growing up, his father had always insisted on their family dining together when he was in country. Even the camaraderie of eating with his platoon had been pleasant for Sam. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it until this evening.
“Tyson, we’d best get you into the tub soon,” Jo Keenan said after her grandson had devoured a bowl of ice cream showered in rainbow sprinkles. The boy had been subdued during most of the meal. Sam figured he likely missed his mother. “I promised your mama you’d be in bed before nine.”
Sam carried his glass and plate into the kitchen. The state-of-the-art room had been reconfigured with low counters and wheelchair accessible appliances so Jo Keenan could still indulge in her love of cooking. Based on the delicious dinner Sam had just savored, he had no doubt of the reason her husband had spared no expense.
“Captain, you just leave those,” she called from the dining room. “Wayne is in charge of cleaning up.”
Wayne Keenan smiled fondly at his wife. “It’s the price I pay for her fine cooking.”
“Thank you, ma’am. Dinner was delicious. I’m just going to check in on Tabitha on my way out.” Sam waved to Laurel’s father and headed out the door toward the barn.
Cheech and Chong were still humming softly when Sam made his way into the barn. The one-eyed cat snaked its way between Sam’s legs as he walked to Tabitha’s stall. The mare eyed him stoically while keeping her distance.
“That abscess doesn’t seem to be bothering you too much,” Sam said to the horse.
“She’s gonna be fine, aren’t you, girl.” Tyson scrambled up onto a step stool. He placed his arms on the stall door, mirroring Sam’s exact pose. “I’m gonna be a veterinarian when I grow up. Did you know that?”
Sam couldn’t help but smile at the boy’s determined posture. “Either that or an escape artist. Aren’t you supposed to be in the bathtub?”
“In a minute. I need to say goodnight to the animals first.”
They stood there quietly for a few moments, listening as the barn settled around them. Even the alpacas’ humming had quieted.
“I’m glad Tabitha’s staying.” Tyson’s voice wavered. “Mama would be more sad if she left. She’s been crying a lot this week. She thinks I don’t hear her, but I do.”
Guilt twisted Sam’s insides into a knot. He should never have pursued her. But her pull had been too strong for his body to ignore. Hurting her had never been part of his plan.
“It’s because Daddy won’t come live here after the ’lympics.”
Sam glanced over at the boy.
Tyson’s lip quivered slightly as he spoke. “It’s ’cause of me.”
“Whoa, there, sport.” Instinctively, Sam reached over and placed his hand in the middle of the boy’s back. He was instantly reminded this child of a daredevil and an impetuous woman was just that, a child, in spite of his worldly mannerisms. The bones and muscles beneath Sam’s palm were still slight and in need of nurturing.
“Just because your dad doesn’t live here with you and your mom doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you both.” It stuck in Sam’s craw that he had to defend that egotistical jerk, Bryce Johnson. But he knew Laurel wouldn’t want her son thinking such troublesome thoughts. “Lots of families are that way.”
“That’s what Mama says.” Tyson wouldn’t meet Sam’s eyes. “But the big kids at school say it’s because my mom had to come back here to take care of me.”
Sam swore beneath his breath, cursing out every tabloid and gossip show for convoluting the facts. None of those parasites ever thought of the impact those tall tales had on the innocent children.
He put his hands on Tyson’s scrawny shoulders and spun him around so that they were eye to eye. “Don’t listen to those bullies, Tyson. Your mom came back because she knew how much you were going to love animals and she wanted you to grow up on a ranch. That’s how much she loves you.”
Tyson’s eyes were shining, but a corner of his lip wriggled up. “She’s a great mommy,” he said softly. He suddenly jerked out of Sam’s grasp. “Wait here,” he called before scurrying up the stairs to the loft.
He returned a minute later carrying a large piece of thick paper. When Tyson turned it for Sam to see, his breath caught in his lungs. It was a charcoal rendering of Tabitha, the mare’s eyes looking so lifelike it was as if she was staring back from the paper.
“Mama draw’d it for you. So you’d be able to ’member Tabitha when she goes to live at another barn. It’s good, huh?”
It was better than good. It was spectacular. “Yeah, your mom is very talented.”
Tyson’s lip began to tremble again. “Daddy said she was gonna be an artist but she changed her mind when she had me.”
Bryce Johnson was lucky he was a continent away because Sam was ready to tear him apart with his bare hands.
“Tyson!” Jo Keenan called from the house. “Your bath is almost ready.”
Tyson shoved the drawing into Sam’s hands. “Even though Tabitha is staying, you should keep this. Mama was gonna give it to you anyway. See you later, captain!” He sc
ooted off before Sam could return the drawing.
Chapter Ten
“Does Uncle Liam jump from that big tower?”
Tyson had his faced pressed to the window, peering out at the smokejumpers going through their afternoon PT workout on the field in front of the forest service station. Laurel pulled her Land Cruiser into the gravel lot and parked next to Miranda’s Sebring convertible.
“I’m sure he does,” Laurel responded absently. She scoured the crowded lawn, looking for Sam.
Tyson unbuckled his booster seatbelt and scrambled down to the floor. “I’ll bet the captain jumps faster and better than Uncle Liam.”
Laurel’s stomach clenched at the thought of Sam jumping out of an airplane, hurtling his body into a fire. Funny, she’d known Liam longer, and she didn’t have the same agonizing nausea when she thought of him doing the same thing. Probably because smokejumping was a part of Liam and Uncle Hugh’s DNA, just as their laughing blue eyes were. It was a part of them that Laurel saw, but was immune to.
She opened the back door and Tyson jumped down. “Can I go find Uncle Liam?”
“We’ll only be here a minute. I just need to find the captain and have a quick word with him.” She took Tyson by the hand and marched over to the big field.
Her mother’s announcement that Laurel would be riding Tabitha at the Quarter Horse Congress later this year had been as unexpected as the positive pregnancy test six years ago. And nearly as devastating. Having Tabitha at the ranch meant Sam still had an excuse to pop into her real life just as he did her dreams every night. It was just too much. He’d been understanding about her reasons for not continuing their relationship. His agreement that Laurel should ride Tabitha made no sense.
“There he is!” Tyson pointed to one side of the field where groups of men were flipping a giant tractor tire from one end to the other. “Wow! The captain is stronger than X-Man.”
The excited reverence in Tyson’s voice was nothing compared to the dance Laurel’s ovaries were doing at the sight of Sam, shirtless with muscles rippling. The crew of smokejumpers cheered as he flipped his tire across the finish line before two of the other men. Tyson whooped along with the rest of them, his exuberant voice catching Sam’s attention.
Smolder (Firefighters of Montana Book 1) Page 12
