by Nancy Bush
Nope, she didn’t like this at all.
“I’m not going to marry Brent,” she told him.
“Good.”
The events of the evening crowded inside Sammy Jo’s head. She fought back the pain and concentrated on Cooper’s sudden, pigheaded attitude. As if he owned her, for God’s sake. And he was mad that she wasn’t behaving properly.
They’d just made love, for crying out loud. Shouldn’t he be a little more tender? More caring? Less…annoying? Raw emotion and a perverse sense of self-destruction spurred Sammy Jo on.
“Well, maybe I should marry Brent, after all. Why not, now that I’ve had some experience with a real man. After all, all Sammy Jo Whalen really wants is to save her ranch and she’ll go about it any way that works.”
Cooper gazed at her coldly. Clearly, he heard her mockery, but for some reason, he couldn’t quite see how ridiculous he was being. More than anything, she wanted to throw herself in his arms and beg him to stop fighting with her and make love to her all over again.
But she couldn’t. He wouldn’t let her. She wouldn’t let herself….
“How far would you go to get what you want?” he asked.
“I didn’t ask you to make love to me,” she reminded. “You came to me and acted like you felt sorry for me and then one thing led to another and…”
“And?”
“And we made love,” she finished. “So don’t act like I set this whole thing up. You were a part of this, too.”
Her words found their mark. She saw the way he winced, as if he’d taken a direct hit. Good, she thought, furious. He was taking away her good feelings over what had just occurred and making her feel horrible and used.
“You were a virgin,” he murmured.
That stopped her cold. He had to have suspected. He accused her of never being properly kissed before. Was he feeling regrets? She didn’t think she could take that.
“I just never had the time.” Or the right guy. “Don’t make a big deal over it.”
“Isn’t it a big deal?”
Sammy Jo shrugged, not trusting herself to talk. She didn’t want to think about what had transpired between them, or she might fall apart.
“You didn’t ever intend to marry Rollins?” he asked neutrally.
“No. I don’t think so. Maybe.” Sammy Jo struggled.
“You’re not sure.”
“Would you just leave me alone?” she demanded, her patience gone.
Cooper shook his head, clearly in the grips of an emotion as intense as her own. But unlike Sammy Jo, he didn’t give voice to his feelings. To her amazement, all he said was, “I’m sorry about your tree. Glad nothing worse happened.”
Didn’t it? Sammy Jo thought. How could he do this? How could he act as if the most monumental moment of her life was just a walk in the park?
“Marrying Brent couldn’t be any worse than giving myself to someone as coldhearted as you,” she said aloud.
“As you pointed out before, it’s not my business.”
Having her words thrown back in her face, each syllable bitten off as if it tasted bad, reminded Sammy Jo why she couldn’t tolerate this man. Never mind that making love with him had been wonderful, bordering on fantastic. There had to be other men who were just as able of lovers.
“I don’t know what possessed me. I was just so…so…miserable about the oak tree, and there you were. If I had any sense, I’d have called up Brent. He should have been the one here tonight.”
“It wouldn’t have happened if you’d been with Brent.” Sammy Jo’s mouth dropped open. “You wouldn’t have let it happen,” he said with pure arrogance.
“You think just because you’re the…that I was a…” She drew a swift breath. “Sorry to disillusion you, but it was timing, pure and simple. And next time, it will be Brent!”
Cooper’s expression blackened. “Tell him about what happened tonight and see if there is a next time.”
“There’ll be a next time and a next time and a next time, because, by God, I’m going to marry him if it’s last thing I do!”
Sammy Jo took a step backward when he suddenly advanced on her, but all he did was snatch up his hat and stalk around the side of the house. Moments later, she heard the roar of his truck’s engine and the spin of tires in gravel as he disappeared in a seething rage.
Sammy Jo collapsed onto the swing, spent and filled with so many feelings, she could scarcely breathe. She had wanted him to go. She hadn’t meant to fight.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she bent her head, mentally reviewing every wrong thing she’d said, flinching at her own scorching tongue, but infuriated right down to her socks over his absolute certainty that, no matter what, she would do anything to save the ranch. Even if it was sell her soul.
* * *
If there was ever a woman he needed to stay away from it was that conniving, calculating, irresponsible, self-serving Sammy Jo Whalen. God, what a woman! She ought to be locked up and only let out under armed guards.
Cooper slammed into the house, fists clenched, jaw hard as iron, too enraged to even speak. With a growl of frustration, he strode into his bedroom, torn between the desire to pick up the desk and throw it across the room and the equally primal urge to turn right around, drive back to the Triple R, drag Sammy Jo to the bedroom and prove she was wrong. Damn wrong.
But how much could one man take? She’d proven over and over again that she would never listen to reason or her very own instincts. Couldn’t she tell that what they’d shared was special? How could she not know, when he could still feel the silken spell of her quivering flesh surrounding him?
“Damn,” he groaned.
He had to get out of here. Had to get some air. Had to get Sammy Jo Whalen out of his system.
As soon as he was outside, however, he could smell the scorched air, a remnant of tonight’s fire. The memory of Sammy Jo’s aching sadness over the loss of the oak stopped him cold. He’d wanted to comfort her. Hell, he’d wanted to make love to her. He’d done both, but now he felt empty and angry and dissatisfied.
At least she wouldn’t marry Brent Rollins now, he consoled himself. For all her talk, she was too smart a lady for that.
Wasn’t she?
“Damn it all to hell!” he muttered, scraping his fingers through his hair. He hadn’t believed her. Not really. But way down deep…well, way down deep he knew better than to credit her with honorable intentions she’d never claimed to possess. He’d made that mistake before; he wasn’t going to make it again. Sammy Jo had come right out and told everyone she wanted a husband to save the ranch. Just because she’d made love to him in a moment of vulnerability didn’t mean her philosophy had changed.
But oh, he’d wanted her to tell him it had. He’d wanted her to make him believe it. Instead, she’d gotten mad, and though he sympathized somewhat—he hadn’t exactly been the doting lover spouting words of “forever-ness”—he’d been dying inside to hear her say how much their lovemaking meant to her, how marrying Brent Rollins was laughable, a joke, how she never wanted Cooper to let her go.
And yet he, himself, hadn’t been able to say the same….
The evening had been a complete and total disaster from beginning to end.
Would she marry Rollins? Would she?
Cooper tortured himself with scenarios of Sammy Jo coming down the aisle, a smile on her face, dollar signs in her eyes. Would she?
Pamela would have—but she had been cagey enough to keep that information to herself. Sammy Jo was right out in the open, and that was a thousand times worse because she almost made him believe it was her only option.
For a wild moment, he considered stepping in as Sammy Jo’s prospective bridegroom, marching her down the aisle by her hair, if necessary, and demanding that she say, “I do.” He could have the Triple R and Sammy Jo.
And a whole pack of trouble.
Muttering imprecations, Cooper rejected that idea outright. He’d made the “ma
rrying mistake” once. He’d be damned if he’d do it again. Even if it meant lusting after Sammy Jo Whalen from afar.
But maybe there was another way, he realized as a thought came to him. Maybe there was.
Sammy Jo slowed the pickup to a throbbing rumble and threw it into park. Outside her window, the oak tree lay twisted, ravaged and helpless. She stared at its charred remains. Blackened embers. Skeleton branches. Gray ash.
If she were superstitious, she would believe it was a sign to give up. There was nothing left for her here. She might as well move out of town and start over.
Climbing from the cab of the truck, Sammy Jo wiped sweat from her forehead, then walked through the dust and debris, poking at a burned fragment with the toe of her boot. Swallowing, she tried hard not to mind.
And just as hard, she tried to forget the aftermath of the fire, the sweet, hot, melting moments in Cooper’s arms where some passionate stranger inside her head reveled in his touch, smell and taste.
Groaning at the memory, Sammy Jo squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Her whole body tensed; her teeth clenched.
“No,” she declared to the empty air and listless oak. She was not going to give in. Not to pain and despair, and not to Cooper Ryan ever again.
With that, she kicked at the rubble and stomped back to the pickup, yanking open the door on one try. A faint, self-deprecating smile crossed her lips. At least she’d won that small battle.
At the house, she rinsed the sweat from her face, then glanced at the table. The mail lay scattered across its scarred finish, one letter catching Sammy Jo’s attention: Valley Federal’s latest missive, this one with a deadline.
She couldn’t marry Brent now. She never really could. But she knew if she went down to the bank today and told Matt Durning that she and Brent were getting married, and that Brent had told her he would put up part of his money to pay off part of her mortgage and trade mortgages on some of his other real estate for the rest, Matt would call off the hounds. And she would still have the Triple R.
It was that simple.
And that hard.
The thought made her skin itch. Shaking her head, she walked to the barn, grabbed a bridle and a pan of oats before going into the fields in search of Pokey; Emmy, Van and Alex would soon be at the ranch to hone their rodeo skills on the Shetland.
She caught up with the horse fairly quickly and seduced him with ridiculous ease. Pokey’s number-one concern was food. By the time she got back to the house, the little girls were already there, as were Bev, Ginny and Tess.
Bev’s greeting was noticeably chillier than it had been, but Sammy Jo didn’t much care. She didn’t want to even think about Cooper Ryan. The memory of their lovemaking made her shiver with guilt. Best to block it out entirely.
“Me first! Me first!” Emmy cried, her helmet sliding forward a little on her head. Sammy Jo lifted the five-year-old onto the bareback saddle. Pokey dutifully began plodding around in a circle.
Emmy quickly grew impatient. Before Sammy Jo could stop her, she’d climbed to her feet and bent over, clutching the saddle’s handle. “No!” she cried when Sammy Jo stopped Pokey. “Go! Go!”
“Sammy Jo Whalen, you get her down from there!” Bev screeched.
“Emmy, you aren’t ready for that.”
“Yes, I am!”
A part of Sammy Jo had to admire the little girl’s stubbornness—a kindred spirit. But she wasn’t about to let Emmy risk injury.
Realizing Pokey wasn’t going to move unless she sat down, Emmy did the exact opposite, standing straight up on the horse and toppling onto the ground.
“Emmy!” Sammy Jo cried, rushing to the girl.
Bev was beside her in an instant, clawing Sammy Jo away, screaming to beat the band. Scared, Pokey jumped forward and raced to the other side of the paddock, reins flying. Emmy started crying as Bev scooped her up.
“You have no business teaching riding if you can’t control your animals!” Bev shrieked.
“Is she all right?” Sammy Jo asked anxiously, reaching toward Emmy.
“She fell off!” Tears filled Bev’s eyes.
“Let go of me!” Emmy demanded, squirming furiously. “I want to ride. I want to ride!”
It took all Sammy Jo’s willpower not to smile. She could feel the smile growing, twitching the corners of her mouth, threatening to break into a shout of laughter.
Bev stared in horror at her dust-grimed daughter who was valiantly seeking escape. Reluctantly, Bev let her slip to the ground. Emmy tried to tear off toward Pokey, but Bev held on to her daughter’s arm. “You’re going to see a doctor!” Bev declared.
Emmy howled in frustration. “I want to ride Pokey. I want to ride!”
Bev’s jaw tightened. Sammy Jo sucked in a breath, expecting Bev to shake the little girl’s arm, she was so mad. But Bev released her, and Emmy ran for Pokey, who led Emmy on a merry chase around the corral, seeming to delight in keeping just out of reach.
“She won’t be coming back for lessons,” Bev said tightly.
“Bev, she just fell off. It happens in rodeo-riding.” Sammy Jo was losing patience herself.
“It’s dangerous. I won’t have it. And I won’t let Roy buy her any more lessons from you, either!”
“Fine. But you won’t hear the end of this.”
“Just what do you mean by that?” Bev demanded acidly.
Hooking a thumb in Emmy’s direction, Sammy Jo said, “Your daughter wants to rodeo. She loves horses, and she’s fearless. She won’t give you a minute’s peace. And yes, I’m speaking from experience.”
The two other girls watched Emmy with a mixture of delight and horror. Ginny sucked on a cigarette, squinting against the smoke. Van squeezed her mother’s hand tightly. Sammy Jo didn’t have to be told that Van was through with rodeo-riding. Conversely, Ginny seemed kind of reluctant to give it up.
“Emmy okay?” Ginny asked.
“No, she’s not okay.” Bev was frosty.
“She’s tough,” Sammy Jo answered in a sideways compliment as Emmy finally caught hold of Pokey’s reins and then proceeded to stroke the Shetland’s nose.
“I never thought this was a good idea. It’s too dangerous. And it’s…smelly!” Bev looked down at her grimy clothes in disgust.
Tess snorted in amusement, and Bev sent her an icy look.
“I want to ride,” Alex suddenly piped in, her thumb hovering just outside her mouth.
Everyone turned to look at her. Tess grinned.
“You have to promise to stay seated,” Sammy Jo told Alex.
“Promise,” she mumbled, the thumb firmly implanted once more.
Emmy threw a fit when she realized Alex was going to get to ride. Bev tried reasoning with her, and when that didn’t work, she grabbed Emmy’s arm and dragged her around the house because Emmy refused to walk on her own power.
Alex rode docilely around the paddock. When she was finished, Sammy Jo brought Pokey over to the rail. Tess swept Alex into her arms and held her tightly, filled with pride.
“You sure you don’t want to ride?” Sammy Jo asked Van.
The little girl glared at Sammy Jo. Ginny’s mouth was tight, Sammy Jo realized she was angry because Van hadn’t measured up to Ginny’s expectations. At that moment, Sammy Jo vowed to herself that if she ever had children, she would never put her child in competition with anyone else’s. It was a dangerous game.
Suddenly, Emmy came racing around the house, her face shining. “I get one more ride! One more ride!”
“Oh, honey, I don’t think so. Your mom’s kind of upset and she won’t want you to—”
The words died in Sammy Jo’s throat as Bev suddenly strolled toward her. Cooper Ryan was at her side.
Sammy Jo’s heart banged in her chest. She had to look away. Anywhere. Just not at Cooper’s broad chest and sinewy forearms. Not at his lean legs and hips.
What was he doing here? The bastard, she added purposely, determined to stay as angry at him as she’d been the night
of the fire.
“Hello, Cooper.” Ginny’s voice thrummed with pleasure and grated against Sammy Jo’s nerves.
“Hi, Ginny.”
“This is my daughter, Vanessa. Van, say hi to Mr. Ryan.” Van’s suspicious gaze slid over him, and she remained ominously silent.
“Well, Mr. Ryan,” Tess stressed, shooting Sammy Jo a glance of amusement. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Tess Miller, and this is my daughter, Alex.”
Cooper shook her hand. Sammy Jo licked her lips and squinted at a faraway tree as if she were focusing on something important. She just couldn’t look at Cooper. Cooper…at least Tess had gotten his name right this time.
“You work at the bank, don’t you?” Cooper asked, his voice sending a chill down Sammy Jo’s the back, in spite of the heat.
“I sure do,” Tess said, sounding gratified he remembered.
“Tess is a teller,” Bev revealed in an icy breath.
Emmy had climbed the fence. Sammy Jo helped her down and sent her scampering toward Pokey since Bev seemed to have swallowed her objections. Tess held Alex’s freehand while Alex smiled up at Sammy Jo, clearly pleased with her riding lesson.
“The girls were having a riding lesson until Emmy fell off,” Bev told Cooper. “It’s a miracle she wasn’t seriously injured. Sammy Jo assured me it would be safe.”
Sammy Jo shot Bev a glare. The woman’s animosity had fast changed to something else. Jealousy? Female territorialism? Bev clearly wanted Cooper enough to risk another ride for Emmy on Pokey.
He deserves Bev, she told herself judiciously.
“She looks all right to me,” Cooper drawled, his gaze following Emmy’s progress before turning to Sammy Jo. Color heated Sammy Jo’s cheeks and she turned away, heading for Emmy and the safety of the far end of the corral.
“Will you show me?” Emmy demanded. “Will you show me how to do it?”
“Do what?” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Ginny and Bev hang on Cooper’s every drawling syllable. Her blood boiled.
“How to stand up on a horse? Please, please, please!”