Rodeo Sweetheart

by Betsy St. Amant

  “Right now?” Ethan smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m in the middle of a game.”

  “Right now.” Jeffrey turned without acknowledging Sam and stalked up the slight hill toward the lodge, the breeze ruffling the sleeves of his dress shirt. Sam frowned. If Mr. Ames was on vacation, why didn’t he participate in anything, or relax in comfortable clothing? If the country life wasn’t his thing, as Ethan said, then why even come?

  Her growing suspicion about the Ames family doubled and she shot Ethan a curious look. “What’s that about?”

  Ethan sighed and dropped the horseshoe on the ground. “Must be a business crisis. I’ll meet you inside the lodge when we’re done talking. I think your mom was right about the mosquitoes.” He slapped at his arm as he hurried after Jeffrey.

  Sam handed the horseshoe to another guest lining up to play, and started up the grassy incline toward the lodge. She might as well go inside and join the line-dance demonstration, and get her paranoid mind off Ethan and his family’s motives. Just because Ethan had yet to tell her what he did for a living didn’t mean anything was wrong. He probably just wanted to leave business behind while he was away from the office, and was frustrated because his dad wouldn’t let him. That would make sense.

  But the logic did nothing to quell the uneasy feeling in her stomach.

  “When were you going to tell me about the girl’s plans?” Jeffrey’s eyebrows mashed into a thick line, the shadows surrounding the main house drawing harsh planes across his face. Music and laughter drifted from the lodge building next door.

  Ethan checked over his shoulder to make sure Sam had continued to the lodge and wasn’t within hearing distance. “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t play innocent with me. Daniel told me about the rodeo and the scheme to win enough money to buy some stallion.” Jeffrey scowled. “What have you done to put a stop to this nonsense? She can’t win the money, that would ruin everything.”

  “I know.” Ethan rubbed his hands over the length of his face. “I’ve tried to talk her out of it, but she won’t budge. She’s determined to do this. It all goes back to her dad and his rodeo career—”

  “I don’t care if it goes back to Abe Lincoln. You have to stop it. If she wins the money, they might not have to sell the ranch.” Jeffrey crossed his arms over his chest, gold cuff links glinting in the moonlight.

  “I know, I’m trying—”

  “Not hard enough.” Jeffrey’s eyes narrowed. “You act as if this sale has no benefit to you, no commission earned. What’s the problem? I put you on this project, yet Daniel has been much more informative in less time.”

  Ethan’s hands clenched into fists. “That’s because you’re playing him against me.”

  Jeffrey tilted his head to one side. “Is that what you think?”

  “It’s the truth, isn’t it? Sending me on an errand just to have him pick up behind me.”

  Jeffrey glowered. “If you had your head on straight, you wouldn’t need someone cleaning your mess. Now get back to that girl and stop her from entering that rodeo.”

  “Her name is Sam.”

  “Whatever. I want results, not personal attachment. I’ve taught you better than that.” Jeffrey twisted the ring on his finger. “This ranch will be ours by the time we leave next week. Don’t make me add or else to that statement.”

  Jeffrey stalked away before Ethan could reply, narrowly dodging another group of guests heading toward the lodge. Not that Ethan had a lot to say, other than the choice phrases running through his mind that he could never utter to his dad’s face. Just because Jeffrey had zero respect for Ethan didn’t mean he could be equally cruel back.

  Ethan drew a deep breath, then headed for the lodge to meet Sam. Regardless of his dad’s intrusion, he was determined to enjoy the rest of the evening with her.

  For his own reasons, not his father’s.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Twangy country music and the stomping of boots filled the lodge as Sam made her way inside. The furniture had been shoved against the walls to provide a dance floor, and guests happily twirled and two-stepped around the small space in time to the blaring stereo system. Sam poured herself a soda from the refreshment table in the back, grinning at a young couple who kept stepping on each other’s feet. They laughed and teased, and the love radiating between them made Sam wish for something similar.

  Longing lingered in Sam’s throat after her first gulp of Coke. The conversation last night with her mother had only strengthened the emotions Sam tried to keep dormant. Would she ever have that kind of freedom and happiness? Thoughts of Ethan filled her mind and she quickly chugged the rest of her drink. It didn’t matter. She had her priorities straight. Ranch first, love second—if ever.

  “Want to dance?” Daniel appeared through the small crowd at Sam’s side. “Come on, it’ll be fun.” He set down her cup and tugged her toward the dance floor before she could protest.

  They joined the line of dancers, some with considerably more rhythm than others, and tried to fall into step. “This is my first time at a country dance, believe it or not,” Daniel called over the music.

  “Imagine that.” Sam smiled but wished it were a different Ames man beside her. She slapped the back of each boot then turned a circle beside Daniel. “So are you enjoying your vacation?”

  A confused expression crossed Daniel’s face, then quickly faded. “Of course. The land is beautiful out here. I don’t see much scenery like this in New York City.” He winked before doing a slide-slide-step combo.

  “You seemed to have hit it off with Kate.” Sam tried to keep her voice casual. She wanted to know Daniel’s motive for flirting with Kate, even though she figured it was nothing more serious than his flirting with her the same night—despite Kate wishing it to be more. “I know she had fun at the fair.”

  “I had fun, too.” Daniel shrugged. “Gotta love a redhead.” He winked again, and Sam wished she could poke something in his eye to keep it open.

  “But you’re not interested in her?”

  The music faded away and a slow song on the CD took its place. Daniel held out his arms and Sam reluctantly allowed him to lead her. If not for trying to intervene on Kate’s behalf, she would have made an excuse and fled back to the refreshment table. Even now, Daniel’s cold, supersmooth hand on Sam’s shoulder made her flinch. What did he do, moisturize every night before bed? Her hands were rougher than his.

  “I enjoyed being around Kate.” Daniel twirled Sam in a tight circle and pulled her back in. “But I enjoy being with you, too.” A hidden agenda lit his dark eyes and Sam tugged from his grip.

  “I should get—”

  “Mind if I cut in?” Ethan stood behind Daniel, one hand firmly on his cousin’s shoulder.

  Relief flooded Sam’s veins, and she eagerly moved toward Ethan. Daniel nodded once and stepped aside, but the expression on his face warned he wouldn’t forget—or forgive—the interruption.

  Ethan didn’t seem to care. He gently took Sam in his arms and moved her around the dance floor with much more grace than Daniel had.

  “I hope you don’t mind. But if we can’t finish our game of horseshoes, we can at least talk this way.” Ethan smiled and Sam relaxed.

  “I don’t mind at all.” Ethan’s light touch on her shoulder proved his hands contained plenty of calluses now, and she smiled back. “What did your dad say? Is everything okay?”

  Ethan stiffened beneath her arms, but kept swaying to the song. “Everything’s fine. Just business talk.”

  “What kind of business?”

  Ethan frowned. “Let’s just enjoy the dance, okay? Talking about work is depressing.”

  “Do you not like what you do?” Sam tilted her head.

  “I don’t know.” Ethan sighed. “Let’s just say it’s not what it started out as and leave it at that.”

  Sam opened her mouth with another question, then slowly pressed her lips together. It wasn’t worth picking a fight over.<
br />
  They kept dancing, the music building to a crescendo of violins and guitars, and she rested her head on Ethan’s shoulder. His shirt was soft under her cheek and she closed her eyes, despite every instinct in her body warning her to retreat, to protect her heart, to run away. What was one dance?

  The music enveloped them in a warm embrace, and Sam squeezed her eyes shut. It was more than just a dance, and she knew it. It was a temporary escape, a hope for something that could never be. She was falling for one of her dreaded tourists, and falling fast. Even though Ethan had become so much more than the negative labels she’d so quickly branded on him, any chance of a relationship between them was doomed before it began. He was leaving, and she was staying. End of story.

  “Samantha.” Ethan’s voice, low in her ear, jerked Sam from her thoughts.

  Her heartbeat quickened but the familiar wave of indignation drowned out the momentary attraction. She stopped moving, forcing Ethan to a standstill. “I can’t believe you called me that again.”

  “No, Sam, I—” Ethan rubbed his hands down his face, then exhaled sharply. His arms fell to his sides in defeat. “Look, I know you hate your name, but you’re Samantha to me. You’re so much more than tomboy Sam. You put on this front of being hardened, but I see the heart underneath. The soft, caring woman who has such deep love for her family, for honor, for animals. That’s Samantha.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “That’s who I’ve come to care about more than I ever thought possible.”

  Sam stared at Ethan, the crowd of dancing guests around them blurring into a mix of swaying colors. Ethan cared about her? As more than a partnership, as more than a means of getting what he wanted by learning the ropes of a dude ranch? Impossible. Yet the thumping sensation in her stomach had nothing to do with the bass of the new song drumming from the speakers.

  And everything to do with the man standing in front of her, arms open, heart exposed.

  Ethan swallowed again, Sam’s silence heavier than the crowd pressing around them. He waited, unwilling to risk more of his heart before she responded. Was she that disgusted with his confession? Or was she afraid to admit the same? He could only hope.

  Not that it mattered. He was stirring up a violent nest by even voicing such thoughts. What could come of it other than heartache and conflict? Sam had no idea who his family was or what they did, despite her frequent questioning. He couldn’t love her and keep such pertinent information from her, information that would destroy everything she was willingly sacrificing to have.

  But he somehow did anyway.

  “Samantha?” The name fell from his lips again, and this time her eyes closed in anguish.

  “My dad called me Samantha.” The pain in her expression slammed against Ethan like a Ferrari crashing into a tree. “No one has since he died.”

  “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” The hollow words sounded even emptier than he felt inside. He was a complete idiot. No wonder Sam was so defensive over her name. She didn’t hate it or try to hide her identity behind a tough exterior—it was sentimental. Something special between her and her late father.

  And he’d thrashed it like a horse’s hooves galloping over a meadow.

  “You couldn’t have known.” The agony slowly faded from Sam’s eyes and she squeezed his hand. “I never told you. I just overreacted when you said it. It’s my fault, too.”

  “You shouldn’t have had to tell me. I should have respected your wishes from the start.” Ethan laughed self-consciously. “Wow, I’m a real Romeo, aren’t I?”

  The serious expression returned to Sam’s face and she looked over her shoulder. “Let’s talk outside.”

  Ethan noticed the crowd thickening as a few couples meandered inside to escape the night air, and he nodded. “Good idea.” He followed Sam outside, away from Davy and Mike still roasting marshmallows and laughing by the fire, and toward a quieter spot by the barn.

  A horse’s soft whinny broke the stillness of the night and Ethan leaned against the wall of the stables, trying to appear casual. Had Sam guided him here to confess her own feelings? Or to break his heart in private?

  She stood in front of him, hands hooked in her front pockets. She looked down before finally meeting his gaze. “I know what you mean.”

  Hope straightened Ethan’s shoulders. “You do?”

  “Yes.” Sam’s eyes darted back to the ground. “But it doesn’t matter.”

  “Why not?” But he knew the reason, knew it as surely as he knew the exact shade of Sam’s eyes. The same reason he’d been screaming at himself the entire last week. Some lifestyles weren’t meant to blend, theirs being an unfortunately prime example.

  “For the same reason it would never work between Daniel and Kate.” Sam exhaled loudly, the light of the moon above illuminating the contours of her face. Ethan tried not to fixate on the way the glow highlighted her delicate bone structure. She was even more beautiful by moonlight than by firelight, if that was possible. “We’re too different. And you live across the country. And…” Her voice trailed off.

  “And?” The word tasted like sawdust in his mouth. Not like they needed another reason but he wanted to hear it from Sam herself.

  “And I don’t know how much I can trust you.”

  The words, painfully true, took yet another shot at his heart and Ethan swallowed hard.

  She lifted her thin shoulders in a helpless shrug. “We barely know each other. We have different morals, values, dreams.”

  “But you do feel the same.” It came out a statement, not a question, and relief eased the wound on Ethan’s hopes as Sam bit her lower lip and nodded.

  His stomach tightened. He had to confess, had to tell her all. Regardless of the consequences, he couldn’t keep up the charade a moment longer. He touched her arm. “Sam, I really—”

  She tugged away, half turning her back to him as she stared up at the sky. “There’s also the matter of your dad.”

  “What about him?” Ethan’s hand fell slowly to his side, tingling with rejection.

  “I’ve seen the way you talk to him, talk about him.” Sam shook her head. “I know you have issues between you, that much is obvious, but it’s not right. I would do anything to have two parents again.” Her voice tightened and she sniffed.

  Frustration mingled with the momentary dash of hope and his fist clenched. “You don’t know anything about my family.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Sam’s eyes snapped harder than her words.

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know our problems.” Ethan wished he didn’t have to know, either. Why couldn’t he have been born into a family that valued each other more than money? If riches made people turn out like his father, he would rather drive a beat up car and shop at thrift stores for the rest of his life. He’d gladly trade the designer labels and the sports cars for even a week of unconditional love.

  “I can’t possibly imagine what kind of issue, business or otherwise, could make you two square off against each other like that. Father and son. It’s ridiculous.” Sam shook her head, her hair brushing against her cheeks. “Do you know how badly I wish my dad was here to argue with? When you’ve been in my position, your perspective changes. The trivial goes away, and you realize what’s really important in life.”

  “Did you ever stop to consider that might be exactly what we fight about all the time?” Ethan backed away, his fists tightened into two knots.

  “How could I know? Here you are confessing your feelings for me, yet you tell me nothing of your real life back in New York—and you expect me to respond with no hesitation?”

  “Feelings you reciprocate.”

  Sam’s mouth opened, and then snapped closed. Ethan tugged her toward him and her breath caught. “Tell me you don’t.”

  She gulped, her eyes fixed on Ethan’s lips. He darted his gaze to her mouth and then back to her eyes. She shook slightly under his grasp. “I can’t.”

  Can’t as in wouldn’t? Or as in couldn
’t? It didn’t matter. Ethan closed the remaining few inches between them and pressed his lips gingerly against hers. She stiffened in surprise before quickly returning his embrace. The kiss deepened and he cupped his hand at the back of her neck, easing her closer. She pulled away, breathless, and Ethan caught a whiff of wildflowers before she stumbled backward.

  “I have to go.” She touched her fingers to her lips, periwinkle eyes wide, before turning and slipping away into the shadows of the night.

  Ethan collapsed against the barn wall, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. If he knew that was the way to win an argument with Sam, he’d have started a fight days ago.

  Chapter Twenty

  Sam’s eyes fluttered open. She stared at the ceiling in her bedroom as the events of the previous night played in her head. Had it been a dream? She tugged her hand free of the sheets and felt her mouth. No, the kiss had been real. So had the argument, unfortunately.

  She sighed as she rolled out of bed and turned off the alarm clock. For once she’d woken before the annoying blare, but the thoughts on repeat in her mind weren’t any easier to listen to. Intrigue and regret chased circles around her heart as she dressed for work. Nice as the kiss had been, it didn’t change her and Ethan’s circumstances. If anything, it made them worse.

  Sam pounded down the stairs into the kitchen. Too bad she couldn’t leave her thought process behind as easily as her unmade bed. She snagged an apple from the fruit bowl at the counter. Clara stood by the kitchen sink, busy preparing breakfast for the guests. “Morning.”

  “Good morning.” Clara dropped a dollop of biscuit dough on a cookie sheet. “I heard the party last night was a success.”

  Sam bit into her apple and wiped at her chin as heat flooded her face. “You could say that.”

  Clara stirred the dough before shaping another biscuit. “Good turnout?”