by Rose Verde
“Why would I? Tell me.”
Counting to ten, he spoke quietly. “You say I don’t speak my mind. But does anything I have said make sense to you?”
She stood there looking at him for a moment and he wondered what was going on in her mind.
“It does. But you know you won't change my mind.”
“I know.”
After a moment, she walked back to the seat she’d just vacated and sat down. Nevada pushed the door closed and came to sit opposite her. A few minutes of tense silence passed. He had to say something. “Amy, I know how you feel about this place,” he said jerking his thumb behind him. “With good reasons, I grant you that. But can you just hold on for a few more months? Let these buildings be completed, let's wean these new calves. Even if you decide to go ahead and sell, it will be worth more. Let me show you the land is worth keeping, but if in another four to six months you think otherwise, then sell.”
Amy chewed her cheek in contemplation. Logically, she couldn't argue with that, could she?
“What's in it for you?” she asked.
“If I can keep your dad’s legacy like I think he would want, I'd have succeeded at something.”
As for his feelings for her, it was a pipe dream. Amy couldn’t wait to get out of there.
SOMETHING FLASHED IN his eyes. Maybe pain, and then it was gone. Was that all?
If she put her sentiments aside, he did well with the ranch. Why did he think he had to do this, to show he could? What happened to make him unsure of himself? Who did he want to prove something to, himself or someone else?
She looked at him and he stared right back. Her heart stirred. She'd give him the chance and hope things worked out. “How do you hope to clear the loan?” she asked, her hand waving over the letter on the ledger still sitting open in front of her.
“I have another meeting with the accountant at the end of the week. We'll come up with something.”
“Three weeks.” She stood up and walked to the door. Easing it open, she looked out. She was having problems thinking straight when he looked at her with those eyes.
What happened to her resolve to sell? She had no reason to refuse, did she? Coming back, she stood beside him. Gentleman that he was, he stood up, too. “I'm leaving for LA the day after tomorrow. I don't know how soon I'll be back. You have from now until next week to come up with a solid plan. If you can do that, then I'll hold off selling for now. Is that fair enough?”
His lopsided smile lightened his eyes. He was like a child who had seen Santa Claus for the first time. Her heart melted and she found she was almost crying. She was glad she’d agreed. Whatever it meant to him, she'd let him discover.
His hands came together as though in prayer. “Thank you, Amy.” He was still smiling.
Her phone rang and he signaled to her and walked away.
Chapter Seventeen
NEVADA RETURNED TO the ranch house to grab his dinner before heading to the new bunkhouse. Deciding there was no need to continue to stay at the ranch house, he’d packed his things.
Amy sat on the glider in her favorite spot.
He made a detour and came to her. Looked like they’d made good progress since their talk last night. “You’re not sleeping?”
“Not yet.”
He sat with her and set the glider in motion.
“This place feels quiet in a strange way. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it again.”
Nevada took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “Give yourself time. It heals wounds.”
“Did yours heal? Have you ever wondered who your parents are?” She glanced at him. “Uh, I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”
“I’ll always wonder about that all my life. But if they didn’t think I was worth it, then, I don’t pine away for them. Life on the street, sleeping in the subway made me strong.”
“I always loved this place, until mom died. I never saw my parents argue and may never understand what happened that day.” She sighed. “Mom always had a temper. But she was an amazing person. Dad understood her. I always told myself I would have their kind of love someday.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know. I guess I still want that. What about you?”
He chuckled. “I met this girl last year and we hung out when we could. I thought we had started to build a relationship. Long story short, I was sadly mistaken.”
He didn’t want to repeat Brooke's words. She'd called him a failure. Words he tried not to take to heart, but it wasn't easy.
Amy let the matter drop. Which was good. She stirred things in his heart and he had it bad for her. But that was his secret for now.
Staying at the bunkhouse would help his resolve. As long as she intended to sell, she wasn’t planning to stick around. What skills did he have to live in her world? Next to none.
She leaned against him. “How’s your place? Isn’t it cold, still?”
“I use the mobile heater.” Nevada draped his arm around her and she snuggled closer.
“Why did you decide to move?”
He shrugged. “No reason.”
She sighed. “Here we go again. There’s a reason for everything we do. You probably don’t want to tell me. Is it so hard—”
Nevada turned and cupped her cheek. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers and then withdrew. “Is that reason enough?”
She stared at him, her eyes wide.
Nevada held her gaze, giving her time to move away.
He kissed her again. Briefly. He breathed. “Amy, I can’t be in the same house with you and not act on my feelings. Does that satisfy your curiosity now?”
She nodded.
Nevada dropped his hand.
“I think you should go home,” she said smiling.
I’m home. Amy, I’m home. “Good advice. See you in the morning.”
If he didn’t leave, he would kiss her again against everything he’d told himself.
THE AROMA OF CINNAMON filled the kitchen as Amy brought out the first batch of cookies Sam was baking. “I won't be leaving tomorrow,” she said to Sam.
Nevada watched her when she wasn't looking. After her capitulation yesterday, he'd been ecstatic. Somehow, something had shifted in him. And the kiss last night... It was meant to shut her up, but then, what he said was true.
As he looked at her, he thought. Was he the only one affected by their kiss? “Why, that's good.” Nevada heard himself say.
A pink hue crept into her cheeks. “I mean you get to stay around one more day,” he said inanely and watched the color deepen. Nevada wanted to flog himself. Why did he have to embarrass her?
“Your boss is bound to flip this time,” Sam said, coming to their rescue.
“I called him. He’s upset and I understand. I’m not sure how soon I’ll be back to tie up loose ends.”
Like put the ranch up for sale. He sighed. Allowing his heart to get involved was just going to get it broken and trampled upon.
“The lawyer called to say he was coming tomorrow,” Amy said.
“Oh, okay then.” Nevada picked up his and Sam’s plates and carried them to the sink.
“He requested that you be there, Nevada.”
Frowning, he turned; the apples he’d removed from the fridge in hand. He wasn't family, why should he be there? “Did he say why?”
She gave him a careless shrug. “He didn't say.”
She got up too and picked up her plate. Nevada caught Sam's look and shrugged, giving her an I-don't-know-why-I-should-be-there look.
“What time is the meeting?”
“Nine a.m. He also requests that you be there, Sam.”
Nevada realized Amy was looking at him instead of Sam. Did she think he knew why the man wanted him to be present?
“Do you already know what's in the will?” she asked.
“Don't be ridiculous. Your father never discussed such a thing with me.” He dropped the plate of apples on the table and folded his
arms across his chest. Looked like for every step forward they made, they took two more backwards. “Why are you always suspicious of me?” The whole emotion was etched in her beautiful face. “So, you think I know something and that’s why I was asking for you to hold off selling?”
Her raised brow said she didn’t believe him. He reached past her, picked up the towel and wiped his hands. Dumping it on the table, he shook his head even though what he wanted to do was shake her. “Think what you want. I know I'm not family and don't have a part in this. Believe what you choose, I'll be at the meeting to hear what your father has to tell me, but be sure of one thing, I won't lay a finger on anything I haven't worked for.”
With that he stepped past her and walked out.
“I DON'T LIKE WHAT YOU are doing at all,” Sam said.
Amy started to wash up the plates. What had she done?
“Why do you think your father trusted him? You haven't given him any chance at all. What exactly is your problem, young lady?”
Amy rinsed and dried the last plate. She’d hurt him. Shame washed over her. He’d been good to her every step of the way through her ordeal.
“I was just wondering why he needed to be at the reading of the will.” Her voice sounded alien even to her.
“It's not sufficient reason to throw an accusation at him.”
“Sam, come on. All I did was ask a simple question for goodness sake.”
“Is that how you were taught to ask questions?” Sam asked shaking her head as though disgusted. Amy's eyes smarted. Somehow, she thought he'd know something she didn't. If her dad kept things from her, whose fault was it?
“What happened to you, my dear child? Your father trusted this boy and loved him like a son.” She came to Amy and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I'm sure he doesn't know anything. Besides, would it be so wrong if your father chose to reward him for all he's done since he came to work here? Even you wouldn’t say no to that.”
If Amy felt ashamed before, she felt it more now. Her face flamed. Now that she asked, she saw how stupid her question had been. Her throat tickled and her eyes felt gritty as though filled with sand.
“Give Nevada time to prove himself. But if you won't you'll have me to answer to.”
Amy chanced a glance at Sam. She didn’t look angry. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she hugged Sam. “I'm sorry.”
“It isn't me you should be telling. Tell Nevada.”
Amy flushed. She couldn't face him just yet. “I will, but not now.”
Sam patted her on her back. “I have some things to attend to. Don't forget to put the lights out when you turn in.”
Amy cleaned up the kitchen and did her best to hang around and apologize. When the giant grandfather clock in the living room chimed eleven, she gave up. Maybe he was avoiding her, which was just as well.
She locked the back door and closed the one through the kitchen so that he could come in if he needed anything.
But she’d definitely find him in the morning.
Chapter Eighteen
NEVADA WALKED TOWARD the house on the dot of nine. His belly churned. He’d stayed away this long so that he wouldn't seem too eager. He prayed that whatever Anthony wrote in the will wouldn’t be such that Nevada would look bad in Amy's eyes.
He shouldn't care, yet he couldn't help that he did. The lawyer hadn’t come. At least, there was no car. Taking a few calming breaths, he entered the kitchen. The smell of cake wrapped around him and his stomach rumbled.
“Come help me with this,” Sam said gesturing to the flask of fresh fruit juice she'd prepared. He took it from her and put it in the fridge.
“You skipped breakfast,” she said thrusting a plate of fried potatoes in his hand. He looked at her and then turned away, reaching for the ketchup from the refrigerator. “I wasn't hungry.”
“Really, or you didn't want to face Amy.”
“Maybe that too, but really, I wasn't hungry.”
A car pulled into the driveway. Nevada peered out the window. It was the lawyer. He got out of his BMW and walked toward the house. The oven timer went off and Sam turned to remove the cake she was baking.
“Go on, I'll meet you in the sitting room.” As he turned to go, she put out a hand to stop him. “No matter what Amy says, promise me you won't be angry.”
After a moment's hesitation he told her, “I won't.”
She nodded and he left.
Nevada met the lawyer, greeted him, and showed him to the den.
Unease strapped like a band around his chest and stomach, and he wasn't sure why. He took a quick look in the direction of the wiry old man that sat to Nevada’s right. He was the same lawyer Anthony had used in the five years Nevada had been at the ranch.
He thought of asking him why he had to be there but the move was squelched by Amy's appearance. Her flowery perfume filled the room, heightening Nevada’s senses. She wore her hair—
Breaking his thought, which was determined to take inventory of how beautiful she looked in the tee-shirt that said beauty plus brains, and form fitting jeans, he leaned back on the chair, feigning an easiness he was far from feeling. Maybe if he wasn't under suspicion, he wouldn't be wound up tight like a malfunctioning clock.
“Good morning, Mr. Roberts,” she said as she sashayed into the room. The older man stood and took her proffered hand. She then took her seat. She smiled at Nevada. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.
He turned away. Sam wheeled in a tea trolley. Nevada stood up and went to help her. Giving him a wink and smile, she let him wheel it to the center of the den.
“A fine morning it is, Mr. Roberts, and thanks for coming.”
“My pleasure ma'am,” he took her hand and shook it firmly. “Anthony was more than a client to me. I'd do anything for him.”
Amy rose from where she sat at the table and passed out the drinks and cookies. He looked at Sam and caught her expression. It was hard to interpret.
Amy handed him a glass and their fingers brushed. She colored immediately, a tad shade lighter than her hair.
“Thank you.” He was glad his voice held strong.
“My pleasure,” she stammered and went back to her seat. Nevada told himself not to look, but stare he did.
“It's a pity I'm doing this so soon,” the lawyer's clear voice brought Nevada back to the present.
He hoped no one noticed where his eyes had been. He’d almost forgotten he'd been on the hot seat, so to speak, because of her. He’d never seen her look so pretty with her long hair piled up on her head and a slender column of neck exposed. The redness of her face added a novelty to her look that made him long to kiss her. Again.
But, what did he have to offer? He tried to focus his scattered brain on the words of the man.
“A month ago, Anthony called me to this very room and told me he wanted to amend his will. At that time, I asked why he thought it was necessary. He laughed and said, “Death is the way of every soul that lived and no one knows his time.” His words had caused a disquiet in me but I knew your father,” Mr. Roberts said, his gaze directed to Amy. “As a man of great faith, if he wanted to amend his will then, he had good reason. Barely a few weeks later I heard he’d been in an accident.”
Who told him? As though reading his thoughts he pointed to Sam. “This came as a surprise to me when Sam called. Anthony had lived here all his life, being the fourth generation to take over the ranch. My first reaction was, what in the world could've happened?”
The man seemed to struggle for a moment and then looked at each of them pointedly. “I'm glad he knew the Lord, because that is all that counts after all is said and done.”
Nevada cast a glance at Amy. Her eyes swam and he noticed a mild trembling in the hands clasped in front of her. He itched to hold her in his arms and tell her all would be well.
Roberts cleared his throat as if remembering why he came. He picked up his portfolio and opened it.
Nevada’s pulse skyrocketed. He passed the will to
Amy. “Sealed and stamped,” he said.
She looked at it and returned it to him. He then raised it for Nevada and Sam to see before he broke the seal.
He did it gently, as though out of reverence for his client and friend or the fact that this was going to change the lives of everyone involved.
He unfolded the paper and ran his eyes down the page. Nevada didn't think his heart could race any faster. He resisted the urge to rub clammy hands against his Wranglers. Was anyone else feeling that way?
“Sam.” Roberts looked at her directly, and then read. “After my wife died, I thought everything would unravel with me feeling the impact of her death and the guilt I held onto. There was nothing I could do to erase the things we had said to each other. I couldn’t see through the haze. Yet, you held everything together.”
Roberts paused for a moment. “I don't know what we'd have done without you. You will be provided for, for the rest of your life. In the event that you choose to marry again I have worked it all out that you will continue to be supported. My lawyer will give you the details.”
Nevada felt a huge weight on his chest as he watched the tears flow from her eyes. He didn't know will reading was an emotional thing—he’d never been to one. Roberts turned to Nevada and he sat up in the chair.
“Nevada, you have been more than a foreman to me. You have been the son I didn't have, single minded in your purpose and devotion to the land as you worked. It beat my imagination. I'm sure the guest ranch concept will work out fine. I'm hoping you'll agree to stay on in some capacity, even when I'm gone. I’m giving you a little piece of land north of the creek. My lawyer will provide you with the details.”
Nevada felt his face drain of color. He couldn't look at Amy. Not what he planned. He was overwhelmed and humbled at the same time. He hadn't done anything to deserve this. He loved what he did and that was it.
Seest thou a man diligent in his works, he shall stand before kings and not mere men. The scripture breathed across his spirit. Was God rewarding him? For what? His struggle at trusting Him?
