Ethan wasn’t used to being spoken to so bluntly by a woman—and judging by the shocked expression on Sam’s face, she wasn’t used to hearing an equal retort, either. But she’d handled it well, pressing her lips together into a tight line as she jammed the truck into Park in front of an aluminum-sided building. Multiple trucks and trailers crowded the small dirt lot, and several people in cowboy hats milled around the front porch.
“They look busy, so I guess you’ll have to help me load after all. Ready to work?” Sam’s smile, forcibly bright, looked pasted on her face. He had offended her, but she wasn’t about to admit it.
Letting her off the hook, Ethan nodded. “Always.” He slid out of the cab, ignoring her snort of derision. Sam slammed the door on her side and marched toward the building. Ethan followed her up the rickety front steps, his head barely clearing a crooked, low-hanging sign marked Smithson’s Co-Op. A cowboy standing to one side of the porch nodded once as they passed, then spit tobacco into a plastic cup. Ethan inched closer behind Sam to shield her from the cowboy’s appreciative backward glance.
Oblivious to her charm, Sam entered the fluorescence-lit shop with a wave to the denim-clad man behind the counter. “Mornin’, Harry. I need the usual.”
“Howdy there, Sam.” Harry’s voice boomed across the store as he tossed a pen on the mass of papers covering the counter. He shuffled his bulk to the ancient cash register, which, upon closer inspection, Ethan decided could have easily been the very first register ever made. How did that thing even work? Harry punched in some keys and Sam handed over her company credit card.
“Who’s your friend there?” Harry peered at Ethan from beneath bushy eyebrows. Ethan bristled under the inspection. At least he was wearing his tennis shoes today and not loafers—though he had the instinctive feeling Harry could probably spot a city slicker a mile away. Why he felt the need to measure up to this man, Ethan had no idea, but he straightened his shoulders and gave his best smile.
“This is Ethan. His family is visiting our ranch and he offered to give me a hand loading the feed.”
“Mighty nice of him.” Harry looked suspiciously at Ethan as he zipped the credit card through a separate black machine.
Ethan pretended to study the gum selection at the counter. Was one expected to respond to an indirect, third-person reference? Sam was watching him, so he supposed so. He uttered a quick, “Thanks.”
“Good thing, Billy out there is filling a big order for another ranch, and Tom called in sick today.” Harry swiped the card a second time with a little frown. “I’m shorthanded as usual.”
“No problem, Ethan and I can handle it.” Sam smiled, but it faded as Harry zipped the card a third time. “Is there a problem?”
Harry leaned over the counter, his gravelly voice lowering to a whisper that could still be heard across the store. “Your card’s been declined.”
“What? I just paid—Oh, wait.” Sam pulled in her lips and briefly closed her eyes. “Okay. That’s fine. Can you bill us instead?”
Harry hesitated, and Sam’s gaze turned pleading. “I’d like to, Sam, really I would, but your mother was late on her last bill and I can’t afford—”
“Here, borrow mine.” Ethan slipped a Visa card from his wallet and slid it to Harry. He elbowed Sam, trying to lighten the mood. “I know you’re good for it.”
Sam’s face flushed scarlet but she didn’t object, which spoke pretty highly of her desperation to get the horse feed. She shifted awkwardly beside him as Harry ran the card and handed the paper slip to Ethan to sign. He jotted his signature, glad he’d had the frame of mind to use his personal card instead of the company one, so at least his father wouldn’t find out about the impromptu purchase. Jeffrey might be able to eventually understand how Ethan refused to sabotage the ranch, but he’d never understand him helping Sam financially. Ethan refused to let the horses go hungry at the cost of his company’s gain.
The amount on the slip jumped out at Ethan as he handed Harry the signed copy. The horse feed wasn’t that expensive. How bad off were the Jensons really? He tucked his copy in his jeans pocket before Sam could catch the surprised look on his face.
“You know where it all is, Sam. Help yourself.” Harry gestured to the side door where Ethan could glimpse a loading platform and wheeled carts.
She smiled the same forced grin from before at Harry, lifted her hand in a slight wave and led Ethan to the loading dock.
Outside, Ethan gently caught her arm, turning her around. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.” She averted her eyes. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Ethan frowned. “Most people would just say thank you.” He stepped aside to make room for another cowboy exiting the building and crossed his arms over his chest. Was she so prideful she couldn’t accept a little help? A second look at her face proved it wasn’t so much pride as it was embarrassment. His defensive guard lowered.
Sam drew in a tight breath. “You’re right. Thank you.”
“I’m not begging for compliments, Sam.” Ethan fought the urge to pull her into his arms and hug away the wounded expression on her face. “Maybe the declined card was a mistake. It happens, you know?”
She turned away, out of his reach. “It wasn’t a mistake. Trust me.”
“Is your family going to be okay? I know you’re riding to win money for the breeding business again, but I’m talking about basics. Food. Bills. Mortgage.”
Sam kept walking, snagging one of the discarded metal dollies from beside the building and wheeling it toward the stacked bags of feed. “After your family pays us, we’ll be fine.”
Ethan froze on the concrete dock, her words hammering his heart like a construction worker on overtime. Sam was counting on their guest payment to cover their upcoming bills and keep the ranch going, all while Ethan’s family was intending to buy the property out from under them. Angie Jenson might realize why they were there—or partly, anyway—but Sam didn’t have a clue. He’d never even told her his real occupation.
Ethan’s palms sweated and he clenched his fists. Sam might think he was some arrogant city slicker or a naive tourist, but he was worse, much worse.
Chapter Fifteen
“Declined?” Kate’s eyes widened until her eyebrows practically disappeared into her red hair. She shook her head in sympathy as she readjusted her cross-legged position on the couch. “Sam, I had no idea things were that bad.”
“I checked into it when we got home earlier today.” Sam closed her eyes, temporarily blocking out the yellow, cheery atmosphere of Kate’s cozy renovated farmhouse. If the room was to match Sam’s current mood, it’d have to be painted charcoal-gray—with angry red slashes on the walls. “Apparently our business card was maxed out and we’re two payments late on top of that. How could my mom not tell me?”
“Maybe she doesn’t know.” Kate’s lips twisted as if even she knew the theory was too far-fetched to be truth.
“My mom has always handled our finances, even when Dad was alive. There’s no way she’d forget to make payments. Obviously we can’t afford them, and she kept it from me.”
“Are you going to confront her about it?”
Sam leaned her head against the soft brown couch, exhaustion pinning her body against the leather. “No. I don’t want her to be even more stressed than she already is. Plus she’ll just try to bring up selling the ranch again.”
“She probably didn’t mean to keep it from you, but just didn’t catch you before you went to the Co-op.”
“Well, I don’t know how she thinks we’re going to pay the next month’s feed supply at this point. Harry didn’t seem very open to the idea of billing us.” Sam pressed her fingers against her temples. “We’re ruining our good name and reputation.”
“I seriously doubt that. Everyone in Appleback loved your dad, and your family. Harry just has to watch out for his own company. He knows you’d never stiff him on purpose.” Kate tossed a blue striped pillow at Sam. “Cheer up. Tell me
about Ethan and Daniel.” She grinned.
“What about them?” Sam hugged the little pillow to her chest. “Other than I made a fool of myself in front of Ethan—again. I have to find a way to pay him back for the feed supply. No way am I taking charity from him or anyone else.”
“I don’t blame you. Paying him back is the right thing to do, even if they can obviously afford that and more.”
“No kidding.” Sam sighed. “I just don’t know why I keep goofing up in front of him. It’s supposed to be the other way around. He’d never spent time on a farm, yet he’s turning into a regular ranch hand. Go figure.” She couldn’t even be proud of his improvements because, somehow, buried under all the designer labels and hair gel, Ethan possessed a natural talent for all things ranching. If he ever wanted to start his own farm one day, then he’d have no trouble—with a little help, of course. Every ranch owner needed their own Cole.
“Ethan’s a fast learner, huh? What about Daniel?” Kate’s eyes lowered and she picked at a loose string on the arm of the couch. “I really am sorry I blurted your secret out like that at the fair. I thought if Ethan knew about the rodeo plans, then Daniel did.”
Sam shrugged. “As long as my mom doesn’t find out until after the competition, it doesn’t matter.”
“So you’re really going to do it?” Kate kept her eyes averted, and Sam ducked down to catch her gaze.
“You think I shouldn’t?” A mixture swirled in Sam’s stomach, one part apprehension, two parts bitterness. Was her best friend against her goals now, too? She couldn’t do this alone. Cole might be on her side, but even that was mostly because he was as tired of the dude ranch as Sam was and wanted a way out.
Kate finally looked up to meet her eyes. “I think you should do what you feel is right. But I would rather Jenson Farms go under than you get hurt or…” Her voice trailed off but Sam didn’t have to wonder where Kate’s train of thought headed. Sam’s own thoughts chugged toward the exact same place every time she mounted Lucy.
“I know my dad died riding a bull. And the irony of it happening at the same annual rodeo I’m entering isn’t lost on me. But I have to do this. For him. For the ranch.” Sam bit her lower lip. “For myself.”
“Then do it.” Kate leaned over and squeezed Sam’s arm. “I believe in you.”
Sudden emotion pricked Sam’s eyes and she swallowed the hard lump rising in her throat. “I’m glad someone does.”
They sat in companionable silence, then Kate jumped to her feet. “We can’t be mushy without brownies. You want one? I made them this afternoon.”
“Sure.” Sam joined Kate in the red-accented kitchen and got a plate out of the cabinet. She knew the details of the house as well as Kate did by now, after all the time they’d spent here since Kate’s purchase almost two years ago. As happy as Sam was for her friend, she couldn’t help the finger of envy that poked her side every now and then. Of course she was glad Kate had her own place, but Sam wanted freedom, too. Not away from Jenson Farms, necessarily, but away from the stress of chores, money, obligation.
In essence, her life.
Kate scooped a giant brownie onto Sam’s plate. “Big enough?”
“For now.” Sam bit into the chocolate bar. “Perfect.”
“Speaking of perfect.” Kate’s eyebrows wiggled as she chomped into her own brownie. “What do you think of Daniel?”
A wedge of brownie lodged in Sam’s throat and she bent over double, coughing. Kate pounded her on the back. “I guess that’s my answer.”
“No,” Sam croaked. She took the bottle of water Kate snagged from the fridge door and gulped a mouthful. “Went down the wrong pipe.”
“So you don’t have a problem with Daniel?” The hope in Kate’s eyes made the snack churn in Sam’s stomach. “He seems interested in me. I know it’s a little far-fetched—he could have any woman he wanted—but I think he’s sincere.”
Sam brushed at a crumb on her mouth to stall for time. What could she say? That Daniel seemed like a complete sleazeball? That he came across more focused on money and impressions than anything else? That there was an obvious wedge between him and Ethan that Sam couldn’t yet explain? She had no proof to offer other than her instincts. But if Sam warned Kate off Daniel now, she’d look jealous after having just confessed she’d made a fool of herself in front of Ethan. Sam refused to lose the only support she had left.
She raised her brownie to her lips and said the only honest thing she could. “Daniel Ames would be a fool not to like you, Kate.” Then she bit into her chocolate dessert before she could add any more truth to her statement.
Ethan couldn’t look in the mirror. Every time he did, the image staring back disgusted him. No wonder his father always tried to teach him to keep his personal life and professional life separate. When mixed, they proved combustible.
And someone was about to get burned.
He splashed water on his face, blurring the reflection, and turned away from the bathroom sink. It might be too late already, if his heart had anything to say about it. The first time Sam turned that wildflower-blue gaze on him, he should have known this would happen. How could he have ever thought it’d be okay to keep the truth from her?
His father must be a better teacher than Ethan thought.
Ethan snatched the hand towel from its metal hook. The material snagged a loose piece of paneling on the wall, and he quickly tugged it free. That was the second time that week. He should mention it to Sam to have it fixed before he or the next guests occupying this particular cabin scratched themselves on it.
He quickly wiped his face dry with the torn towel. It wasn’t too late. He could go to Sam right now, confess his real profession and why he was on the ranch, tell her he wanted nothing to do with his parents’ schemes, and hope she’d forgive him.
But the confession still wouldn’t be entirely true. Ethan didn’t want to manipulate Sam’s family, but how could he please both Sam and his father at the same time? Ethan might be ready to step out from the family business of his own accord, but he was no where near ready to be pushed away—emotionally or financially.
Maybe his father would just claim Daniel as his son instead, and Ethan would finally be replaced in every aspect of his parents’ lives. Why not make it official when that’s where Jeffrey Ames’s loyalties seemed to rest, anyway?
Bitterness coated Ethan’s tongue and he reached for his toothbrush, even though he’d already brushed his teeth once that evening. He’d scrub them all night if that meant avoiding lying sleeplessly in bed, contemplating how he’d ever get out of the pit he’d dug for himself. Sure, he could blame his dad for some of the shovelfuls of dirt, maybe Daniel for a few others, but Ethan was a grown man. Despite feeling caged in all his life, he still ultimately made his own choices.
And right now, he had to decide if finally gaining his father’s love and respect was worth losing Sam’s heart forever.
He could push aside his feelings for Sam, and commit to getting the cheapest price possible on the Jensons’ ranch—just as Jeffrey Ames hoped. Only he would go about it honestly, not by means of manipulation. That choice would bring money, the chance for eventual independence from the real estate business, and better yet, it would show his father that Ethan was successful and worthy of respect. And maybe Sam could start over somewhere and be happy.
Or he could be honest with Sam. Tell her the truth and accept the consequences. But that choice would bring only division between her and her mother for the kept secrets, anger at Ethan for being deceitful, and would permanently destroy any chance Ethan had of convincing her he could be worthy of her love.
Ethan left the bathroom and sank on his bed in the cabin. It was early still in the evening, but fatigue clung to the edges of his frayed emotions, coaxing him toward sleep. Daniel’s bed remained empty, typical for a Friday night. He was probably at the lodge again. Thankfully, they hadn’t spoken much since the fair the night before. Ethan wasn’t sure what he would tell his cousin i
f he broached the subject of the carnival. Encourage Daniel toward Kate in hopes of convincing him to back off the pursuit of Sam? Or just step back and see what would happen naturally?
Ethan flopped back against the bed pillows and closed his eyes, not even bothering to take off his shoes. He was tired of feeling as if his entire life was controlled by his father. Tired of being stuck between choices too hard to make. But most of all, he was tired of his conscience complicating his life.
It’d be so much easier if his moral radar would quit getting in the way. Why couldn’t he just be heartless like his dad and Daniel? It was more than simply being attracted to Sam that made him think twice before following Jeffrey’s orders. It was the entire way his family ran the business. Underhanded schemes, manipulation, shortcuts. When Ethan first joined the company years ago, he was too young and naive to grasp what was happening behind the scenes, until he and Daniel took over the real estate side of the business. By then, it was easier to keep up the heartless rich guy charade that Daniel naturally mastered than demand answers or ethics from his parents.
But a man could only live off the superficial for so long.
Ethan’s eyes opened and slowly adjusted to the dim light of the cabin. Evening shadows fell through the partially open miniblinds, draping his dresser and bedside table in darkness. Night was approaching, and in a few short hours, Sam would be in the paddock practicing on Lucy. He would go watch, be supportive, and try to find a way to keep her safe. It would only be a matter of time before Daniel told Jeffrey about Sam’s plans to win the needed money for that stallion. Daniel was probably just waiting for the opportune time that would make him look the best. Ethan never once thought he’d be fighting with his cousin for the same girl.
Then again, he never thought he’d be falling for a cowgirl, either.
Chapter Sixteen
Ethan arrived at the paddock just in time to see Sam slam hard onto the dirt-packed earth. Lucy trotted away, but Sam remained motionless on the ground. “Sam!” Ethan’s heart thundered louder than a horse’s galloping hooves as he ran toward the pen, a prayer leaving his lips for the first time in he didn’t know how long. He scaled the fence, nearly colliding with Cole, who already knelt by Sam. Ethan dropped to the dirt beside him, out of breath. “Is she all right?” Please, God. She’s the one bit of good I still have in my life.
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