A Ranch to Keep

by Claire McEwen

“I really appreciate your help.” She glanced at his toolbelt. “I’m sorry I interrupted your work.” Now that the asking for help part was over, she noticed how good the belt looked on him, and then flushed, realizing that she’d let her eyes linger there.

  “Like I said, don’t worry about it. I’ll just go get my chain saw.”

  “That would be great. And...um...does your truck have a winch?”

  Jack looked at her and the humor was back, that lopsided grin familiar, though maybe not welcome at the moment. “A winch? What exactly happened down there?”

  Samantha sighed. “It’s a long, sad story. It might be best not to ask.”

  There were plenty of questions in his eyes, but he didn’t voice them. Instead, his eyes roved over her outfit, chosen for her late night drinks with Mark. At the sight of her stiletto boots, he grinned. “My old friends from the side of the road?”

  Samantha smiled, despite her frustration with the tree, and the missed date with Mark and her guilt over Jack and his toolbelt and the way there’d been this unwanted hope that flashed through her when she thought he might kiss her again. “My amazing shoe repair guy resuscitated them last week.”

  “I gotta admit, I’m kind of glad to hear it. It would have been a loss to this world had they been ruined.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “Okay, Cowboy, enough with the boot fetish. Can you help me with the tree? Please?”

  “Samantha Rylant asking me for help? It’s music to my ears.”

  She rolled her eyes, thinking he might not feel quite that enthusiastic once he saw the carnage in her driveway.

  “Look, I’ll need to bring the truck,” Jack said. “Why don’t you go wait for me in the cab and we’ll drive together?”

  The last thing she needed was to be in any confined space with Jack right now. Especially Jack in low-slung jeans and a toolbelt. “I need to make a quick phone call,” she lied. “I’ll just walk back down and meet you there.”

  “Are you sure?” He glanced down briefly, obviously thinking that she was going to break her neck going down the steep trail in her boots.

  “I’m good,” she said. Good as long as she kept her distance from Jack Baron. Samantha started down the path, trying not to think about the teasing she was going to get when he saw the state of her car.

  She arrived at the tree just as Jack pulled up the driveway. He got out of his truck and stopped in his tracks, eyebrows raised in amazement as he took in the half-moved tree, the pieces of jack still scattered alongside, and the car in the ditch with the bumper sticking out the back. The wind tousled his hair and he ran his fingers through it a few times, as if searching his brain for words.

  “Did you...” he started, and then paused, and stepped over the tree to look more closely at her car trunk and the bumper. “How...” And then comprehension dawned and the smile slowly spread. Samantha could actually see unshed tears of laughter building in his eyes.

  In what must have been a colossal feat of self-control, he didn’t quite laugh. He just shook his head and looked at her in astonishment. “I am in awe, Frisco. Speechless and in awe.”

  He turned toward his truck and his shoulders shook with silent laughter as he went to grab the chain saw.

  Samantha was glad that the furious noise of the saw prevented conversation. While Jack sliced up the pine tree, she busied herself with dragging parts of it over to her pile near the pasture fence. Less than an hour later they had the driveway clear. Jack put the saw back in the truck and came over to where she was adding the last pieces of tree to the now-enormous stack.

  “I can haul all this up to the house if you want, cut it up and stack it for you. With time, you’ll have pretty good firewood.”

  “Jack, you don’t have to do that,” she protested.

  “Samantha.” He gestured to the scene around them. “I think we have the proof right here, that it really is okay to ask for help occasionally.” His grin was back. “You don’t need to do stuff on your own out here. Like move pine trees.”

  Her former bleak mood faded. This situation she’d gotten herself in with her stubborn independence was pretty ridiculous. Funny even. She smiled back. “All right, I see your point. But at least let me pay you for your time.”

  “How about, the next time you come, bring me some really good coffee. Whole beans, organic, from one of those local roasting places in the city.”

  “What?” Jack Baron, resident cowboy, was a coffee connoisseur? She realized she was staring at him in surprise.

  “You think that just because I live out here and train horses I want to drink bad coffee? Come on, Samantha. Good coffee beans are like gold out here. It’s a fair trade.”

  Laughter was dancing in his eyes and she had no idea if he was just teasing her, but it seemed like a good deal for her. And then she was laughing. She couldn’t help it. Her car was mangled and in a ditch and she’d missed her date with her boyfriend, but Jack’s offbeat humor was infectious. He joined in the laughter, with a light in his eyes that she shouldn’t want to see again. Their laughter slowed and their eyes caught and Samantha forgot for a minute that she wasn’t supposed to be encouraging this. She simply didn’t want to look away from him.

  Thunder rumbled from high up in the mountains and they both jumped, startled by how much the clouds had traveled.

  “We’d better get you out of here,” Jack said. “Assuming I can get your car out of that ditch without pulling the other bumper off.” His wink was so quick she almost missed it, and then he’d turned and was heading for his truck, to unwind the cable on the winch.

  With quick and confident skill he freed her car in moments and then they stood there, on the gravel and sawdust driveway, cars facing each other, and Samantha wasn’t quite sure how to say goodbye.

  “I can’t thank you enough,” she finally said.

  He was looking down at her with an expression she couldn’t read and the lines of his face creased into a smile. She wanted to trace them with her fingertip. “Coffee.” He reminded her. “Really good coffee.”

  “Right. Coffee.” Her thoughts were scrambled up with a compelling urge to touch him—throw her arms around him and show him her gratitude. Instead she fished her car keys out of her pocket. “I guess if my car runs well enough to get me to San Francisco. Thank you again, Jack. Really, I can’t say it enough.”

  “Anytime, Samantha. Anytime at all.”

  She turned to go.

  “I like having you here.” He blurted it out as she was walking away.

  If she answered him, there might be another kiss. She wished she didn’t want that kiss so much.

  “Thanks again,” she called over her shoulder, and got into her car, locking the door as if it offered safety from the way she felt when she was near Jack. She started the engine and sat, listening thankfully to its steady hum, waiting for Jack to move his truck out of the driveway. Waiting for a clear road home.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SAMANTHA’S OFFICE CHAIR had a squeak in it. Since she didn’t usually spend much time at her desk, she’d never noticed it before. But today she’d discovered that if she propped her feet on the windowsill, she could turn her chair back and forth and give herself a nice panorama of the San Francisco skyline, accompanied by an occasional squeak. She’d had this office for years, but today was the first day in a long time that she’d really looked out the window and appreciated her view.

  Watching all the busy people on the sidewalks below reminded her that she needed to get busy herself. It was a few hours before one of the most important presentations in her career and she was having a hard time focusing on work.

  Even though she’d been back in San Francisco for three days, she felt like she was in limbo. Half of her was still back at the ranch, surrounded by ethereal granite peaks and breathing the spicy scent of
the sagebrush. It seemed so strange to miss the mountains after spending just a few days there. Especially after her disastrous encounter with the fallen pine tree. Her poor car had been in the shop all week.

  “Are you all right in there, Samantha?” She spun around, feeling her cheeks heat with embarrassment at being caught in such an undignified position. Mark leaned on the door frame, his deep brown eyes regarding her with concern and a slight wariness.

  “Welcome back, boss.” She smiled at him. He looked tired. His brown hair just a little mussed. “How was the flight from New York? Did you just get in? Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?”

  Humor flickered at her teasing. “Always. Speaking of which, we need to meet with the team in ten minutes. Our last run-through. I though I’d find you in the conference room, setting up.”

  “I took care of that a while ago.” Samantha tried to keep the frustration out of her voice, but sometimes his random acts of micromanagement grated.

  Mark closed the door behind him and took a few steps toward her desk. “Hey, Kiddo, I’m sorry I didn’t call. You know how it is when you’re on one of these work trips. Late meetings, dinners...”

  “No, Mark, please.” Samantha felt something inside of her recoil at his need to make excuses. “It’s not that. I’m just having an off day, that’s all.”

  “Did everything go okay at the ranch? Sorry I couldn’t be there to help.”

  Mark looked so uncomfortable that Samantha took pity on him. “Thanks. It was fine.”

  “Listen, Samantha, I came in here to talk to you about something, and it’s kind of urgent, but maybe now’s not the time. Could we grab a drink after work tonight?”

  A sharp knock made them both jump and Eileen, Samantha’s assistant, popped her head around the door. “Skinny latte as ordered...oh, hello, Mark! I was coming to find you next. Everyone’s ready for the final prep meeting. Is there anything I can do before it starts?”

  Samantha took the latte appreciatively, inhaling the steamy scent. “Thanks so much, Eileen. I think we’re good. Ready to get started. Let’s all head in there.” She grabbed her papers and followed Mark and Eileen out the door, wondering what it was Mark needed to talk to her about. Maybe he wanted to schedule time together before they both got too busy? Or maybe it was to talk about her promotion?

  Giving herself a mental kick, she pushed open the door of the conference room. The only thing she should be thinking about now is Peter Claude Beauty. If all went well today, the international skincare company would become Taylor Advertising’s newest client.

  Her colleagues were sitting around the table, looking expectantly at her. Samantha looked at Mark. Now that he was back, she wasn’t clear who was running this meeting. “Mark, would you like to start?”

  “No, you go ahead.” He was busy fumbling in his briefcase. “Do you have a pen, Samantha?”

  Mark was rarely prepared for meetings, so Samantha always brought extra supplies. Samantha handed him a meeting agenda and a pen and turned to the group. “Before we go into this, I want to thank all of you for the incredible amount of work you’ve put into this pitch. I know we’re going to blow the competition out of the water. If you all do as well today as you did on our run-through yesterday, I have no doubt we will soon be representing Peter Claude Beauty!”

  Everyone started clapping. Mark clapped the hardest and Samantha felt herself forgiving him for his inattentiveness the past few days. As the applause died down, Samantha continued. “Just glancing around this room I can see all the hard work you’ve put into making everything perfect. Let’s just go over our final checklists and we’ll be done.”

  They went through the list of what was needed—easels, the storyboards, the samples, the packets to accompany the video presentation. Samantha reviewed who was going to speak at different points. Her team was generally amazing and today was no exception. Everyone was ready.

  Drawing the meeting to a close, Samantha asked, “Are there any questions about what’s going to happen in the next couple hours?”

  Her request was met with silence. People were shifting in their seats, some of them nervous, everyone ready to just get on with it. She continued. “Does anyone have anything else to add?”

  Eileen’s hand shot up. “Dana has some good news to share.” Dana, Mark’s assistant, was currently leaning over her notepad on the table, voluminous cleavage on display as per usual. At Eileen’s introduction, her face brightened and she opened her mouth to speak.

  Mark’s voice interrupted sharply. “Eileen, I really don’t think this is the time...”

  “But Mark, it’s the perfect time for good news,” Eileen enthused. “Everyone loves to hear about this kind of stuff. Come on, Dana, didn’t you say you wanted to make your announcement today?”

  Dana looked around the group, joy illuminating her face. “Okay, well, I thought that good news, you know, really perks people up, and I thought it would be great to share this before we go into this huge presentation, to kind of pump us all up, right? So, really quick because I know we have to get going. I’m pregnant! Mark and I are having a baby!”

  There was a ringing in Samantha’s ears that seemed to muffle the sound in the room. Mark was accepting the handshakes and backslaps with a strained smile attached to his troubled face, which was a curious pasty color. Dana was busy being hugged and congratulated. Samantha felt rooted to her chair, unable to move.

  “Samantha.” Mark appeared in front of her, looking terrified and apologetic. “I never meant... I mean, this is why I asked if we could meet after...”

  She held a hand up to stop him. If she spoke right now she had no idea what would come out of her mouth. She put her head down and pretended to be very busy with the pile of papers in front of her. When Dana came toward her, she stood up quickly and walked to a table at the far end of the room, flipping through the storyboards, as if to double-check them.

  Staring blindly at the logo in front of her, she forced her mind away from what had just happened. She’d faced so many challenges in her life alone, without her parents or anyone else there to support her. She was alone now, in this pain and anger and shame, but she was good at overcoming things and she would overcome this. Not just overcome it, but give the best damn presentation this company had ever seen, and never, ever let Mark see how much his hideous betrayal had hurt her.

  The room grew quieter behind her, as everyone finished their congratulations and cleared out. She turned around to go and Mark was still there, approaching her with a pathetic expression on his reddened face. “Don’t!” she commanded.

  She walked past him and into her office to collect what she needed for the pitch. It was showtime. But when the curtain went down, and the crowds went home, she was going to call her best friends and go find the strongest glass of scotch this fair city had to offer. And then, only then, would she let herself think about the fact that her boyfriend was having a baby with another woman.

  * * *

  “HE WHAT? WITH WHO?” Tess’s face was a picture of horror, surprise, and a just a touch of guilty delight. Despite her poised, businesslike exterior, she loved gossip in all its forms.

  Samantha took another sip of her scotch and looked around the crowded bar, making sure there were no familiar faces nearby. She leaned toward her two best friends, huddled around the small table in the corner. “Mark is having a baby with Dana, his assistant.”

  Jenna’s Kewpie Doll lips were pursed together in horror as she stared at Samantha, her glass halfway to her mouth. Today she was dressed like a 1940s bombshell: pale make up, red lips and her auburn hair swept into a smooth chignon. “Dana? Not the one with the cleavage?”

  Samantha buried her head in her arms on the table. She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry or both. “Yes, Jenna. Thank you for reminding me. The one with the cleavage.”

  “Sorry
. That was a bad thing to say.” Jenna put her hand on Samantha’s shoulder. “Sam, I’m so sorry.”

  Samantha felt the tears she’d kept in check all day swim to the surface. Wiping her eyes on her sleeve she sat up and took another long swallow, hoping that the alcohol would have a much-needed, mood-altering effect. She set her glass down and looked at her friends’ expectant faces. “I’ve been a fool. I feel like such an idiot.”

  “No, Sam...” Her friends jumped in, always quick to protect her, but she wouldn’t let them.

  “No, I’m just so stupid. First of all, no one, absolutely no one, dates their boss. Isn’t it, like, the number-one rule that we’re all taught when we get our first job out of college? But I did it anyway! And then when he stopped calling as much, I just assumed he was working really hard. Now, looking back, I guess I was the only one working really hard.”

  “Oh, he was working hard all right!” Tess cut in.

  Jenna giggled and Tess motioned to a passing waiter. “Another round, please. No, wait. Just bring the whole bottle. It’ll save trouble later on.”

  Jenna was still giggling. “I’m sorry, Sam!” She dabbed at her eyes. “It’s not funny, it really isn’t, it’s just, it’s just...”

  “Pathetic?” Samantha offered. “Disgusting? Trust me, I know.”

  “Disgusting?” Tess looked at Sam shrewdly. “Exactly how pregnant is she?”

  Samantha took a deep breath. This was the worst part. “A little over three months, apparently.”

  Tess slammed her drink on the table, sloshing single malt over the lacquered surface. “And the last time you slept with him?”

  Samantha felt herself flush. She didn’t have Tess’s boldness, couldn’t talk about sex with her incredible candor. She took a deep breath. “A few weeks ago.”

  “Ouch. And yuck,” said Jenna, completely serious now.

  “I’ll kill him.” Tess’s eyes took on a savage gleam. “What do you think, Jenna? Should we wait for him in a dark alley somewhere? Castrate him? Break his kneecaps?”