A Ranch to Keep

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A Ranch to Keep Page 12

by Claire McEwen


  “No, he’s not worth it,” Samantha answered quietly. “I mean, he’s horrible to have done that, really horrible. If I think about it in any detail I feel like I’ll throw up. I just want to put it behind me. And to not care!”

  “Well, of course you care, though,” Jenna said gently. “You were with him a long time.”

  “Yes, but I’m trying to remind myself that in the grand scheme of things, this is nothing. Honestly, I just lost Grandma Ruth. In light of that, this Mark thing can’t count as a total heartbreak. My heart hurts, and my ego really hurts. But I know the hurt’s not permanent. Not like losing Ruth.”

  Samantha sipped her drink and looked around. It was six o’clock and the after-work crowd filled the Edinburgh Castle, a dive bar where Samantha and her friends held all their emergency meetings. They’d discovered the pub years ago, charmed by its massive wall of single malt scotch and the bagpiper who wandered through each evening. Right now it was filled with a younger, very hip-looking crowd, all jostling, talking and drinking. She wished she were one of them. They looked so carefree.

  “I never liked Mark anyway.” Tess broke the silence and reached for Samantha’s hand across the table. “I can be honest about that now, can’t I? He was too boring for you, Sam. Cute, smart and successful, it’s true, but boring. And admit it, you were never madly in love with him.”

  “Maybe I’m just not the type to fall madly in love,” Samantha mused. “We seemed so perfect for each other. We both work a lot, we got along fine and we made each other laugh and, well...” She paused, trying to remember what, exactly, she and Mark had shared.

  “Exactly. You had nothing in common but work!” Tess paused as the waiter arrived with a tray and set down a brand new bottle of Macallan, eyeing Tess with a sort of awe as she took the bottle and promptly cracked the label, pulled the cork out and started pouring. “And maybe he made you laugh, Samantha, but did you want him?”

  With a groan, Samantha buried her face in her hands. “Okay, maybe it wasn’t totally passionate all the time but... Ugh! Who am I kidding! Obviously it wasn’t that passionate if he was cheating on me!”

  “So, there’s your answer,” Tess told her. “Look, I know you feel terrible right now, but the bright side is that you are now free to go find the guy who you want more than anything. And guess what? When you find him, you can have him, because you are now a free woman!”

  “I’ll drink to that!” Jenna exclaimed and they clinked glasses.

  Samantha pondered Tess’s words and swore she could taste Jack’s kiss on her lips along with her scotch. Tess was right. She was free. And at least she didn’t have to feel so guilty about the way she felt around Jack anymore. Maybe that was a tiny bright spot in this horror of a day.

  Jenna interrupted her thoughts. “Now, the first thing you need to do is take some significant time off. Spa day, tropical vacation, shopping sprees, the works.”

  “Absolutely,” Tess agreed. “If I’m not mistaken, not only did Mark drop this baby bombshell on you at work today, but you nailed your pitch to Peter Claude a few hours later, right? Not much Mark can say at this point if you want to spend the next month lying on the beach in Hawaii, Sam.”

  “It’s not that simple. I have other accounts to worry about.”

  “Samantha, it’s time for a change. All you ever do is work! You need to get a life, honey. And coming from me, who spends way too much time at the office, that’s saying something.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Samantha sighed. She set the empty glass down and picked up the bottle, sloshing more into her glass. She took a swallow. She didn’t drink that often, but she appreciated good scotch, and the bar certainly had a nicer glow to it than it had when she arrived. “But a tropical vacation on my own? Just this morning I thought I’d be taking one with Mark! Going alone sounds depressing!”

  “Well, maybe you could find a nice cabana boy.” Tess grinned at her.

  “Not really my style,” Samantha retorted. “But I do have the ranch. It feels really far away from everything. And right now I want to be far way.”

  “Any sexy cowboys out there?” Tess purred.

  “Well, I have met one,” Samantha answered, smiling a little. “He lives next door, so it’s complicated. He’s also my tenant.”

  “Uh-oh. Not good.” Jenna shook her head. “I think if we’ve learned one thing from your terrible experience today, it’s that we all need to avoid dating anyone we will ever have to see on a regular basis if and when things fall apart. Neighbor and tenant equal two strikes against him!”

  “My thoughts exactly,” Samantha agreed. “But it’s a bit hard to stay away when he’s gorgeous and funny and actually seems pretty smart. And he’s got this hat and boots and jeans...”

  “Say no more.” Tess cut her off. “I disagree with Jenna. Go for it. Sexy cowboys trump all dating rules.”

  Samantha started to laugh again. It amazed her how even when she felt so awful, her friends could get her smiling. “Well, I’ve never actually had a fling. I wouldn’t even know how to start one. I’ll just lust from afar.”

  “Samantha!” Jenna exclaimed. “You are always so practical! And cautious! Tess is right. If there was ever a time to break all the rules and have a fling, it’s now. I second the motion for wild sex with the cowboy. Just go tell him you want him!”

  Samantha giggled incredulously. “You mean, just show up on his doorstep?”

  “In a beautiful trench coat with nothing on underneath. Works every time,” Tess informed her casually.

  “What?” Jenna and Samantha shrieked in unison.

  “And you’ve done this?” Samantha asked, looking at her friend with newfound awe.

  “What, and you haven’t? Ladies, what kind of dull lives have you been living?” Tess gave them a salacious wink and refilled their glasses with more scotch while Jenna leaned on Samantha and giggled.

  Samantha took another sip from her glass. The room was starting to look kind of hazy and suddenly, with a dull thud in her heart, the reality of the day caught up with her. It was fun to joke about affairs and cowboys, but it was just a momentary distraction from what had happened. Mark had been cheating. For a while. Which meant that everything she’d believed about him, everything he’d told her for the past few months, had been a lie.

  She tried to put on some kind of smile for her friends. “You two are incredible. I can’t believe you’ve managed to cheer me up on one of the worst days of my life. But it’s getting late. I should go home.” She was done. Done with this horrible day. Done with relationships. Maybe forever.

  Jenna sat up, sobering. “I’m sorry, I’m sitting here cracking up at our friend Tess’s wild ways, while you are suffering from major heartbreak. You are amazing and strong to come out with us tonight, but if I were you I’d want to get home, too.”

  “You’re my hero, Sam.” Tess raised her glass in a salute. “I can’t believe you kicked butt on that pitch right after you found out. You are tough.”

  Jenna set her drink down and put her forehead in her hand. “Is it just me or is this room spinning?”

  “Definitely spinning,” Samantha agreed. “Let’s go find a way home. I swear, if I can’t find a cab, or a bus, I’ll grab a cable car. Any mode of transport that will get me into my bed as quickly as possible.”

  They walked up to busy Van Ness Avenue and looked for taxis. “See? Miracles happen!” Jenna said as a cab pulled up to the curb next to them. “You get the first one, Samantha. You need to rest up for your big affair with the cowboy!”

  “Stop!” Samantha giggled, opening the door and getting in. “I’m not doing anything with the cowboy!”

  “Of course you’re not.” Tess grinned. She shut the cab door behind Samantha and leaned down to speak to her through the open window, her long blond hair hanging in a curtain to one side. “Su
re you don’t want to borrow my trench coat, just in case?” she asked.

  “Pacific Heights!” Samantha called to the driver, and she was laughing, though it felt a lot like crying, as he peeled out from the curb and sped her home through the dark city streets.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE SOUND OF the old barn door squeaking startled Jack out of his thoughts. Familiar footsteps shuffled down the center aisle and Sugar, recognizing the slow rhythm, pulled her foot from his grip and stuck her head out the door with a nicker welcome. A weatherworn hand, gnarled and scarred, came up to stroke the inquisitive nose.

  “Afternoon, Jack.” The voice was low and gruff as gravel.

  “Hey, Walt.” Jack leaned an arm on Sugar’s back.

  Walt leaned against the door. “Our new neighbor is back.”

  A jolt hit Jack’s stomach but he kept his voice neutral. “You don’t say.”

  “I do say. Saw her pull up in that fancy car of hers just as I turned in from the main road. Must’ve had the day off to get here on a Friday afternoon.”

  “Must’ve,” replied Jack, trying not to care.

  Walter stood watching him, his old eyes a watery blue beneath the bristling gray brows. He broke off a piece of hay from Sugar’s manger and chewed the stalk thoughtfully. “I can watch the place tomorrow if you want to ask her.”

  “Ask her what?” Jack watched Walt carefully, knowing his friend had something he was after.

  “To go riding.”

  “She doesn’t want to go riding, Walt.” Jack knew his voice sounded as frustrated as he’d been feeling all week. “She wants to talk on her cell phone and work on her computer and...”

  Walt cut him off. “She just needs you to convince her otherwise.”

  Jack stopped and stared. “Walt, what are you getting at?”

  “Trying to convince you to get off your lazy ass and ask the lady out.”

  “Why do you care who I go out with?” Jack was trying to be patient, but Walt’s newfound career in matchmaking was getting tiresome.

  Walt’s voice was suddenly serious. “I care because you’ve been storming around this place ever since you saw her out to dinner with that weasel lawyer last week.”

  “Hey, she’s a grown woman. She can have dinner with whoever she wants.” He wished he actually felt that way. Walt was right, though he’d never admit it. Jack hated that Samantha had gone out to dinner with Rob Morgan. He hated it that Samantha had a boyfriend. It wasn’t his business, Samantha wasn’t for him, but it did not stop him from wanting her, and from thinking about her way, way too often. Even another week of Todd’s stubborn, feral mustangs hadn’t been able to keep his mind off his beautiful neighbor.

  “Well, good. If you don’t care for her, then it shouldn’t be a problem talking business with her. Rumor has it she’s thinking of selling soon.”

  Jack felt it like a kick to the spine. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “That can’t be true,” Jack protested. “She just inherited it...there can’t be anything set yet.” He paused, considering last weekend, how savvy Samantha was about handling the huge repair list, how adamant she was that she could handle things on her own. Well, with the exception of downed trees. He grinned at the memory of her bumperless car in the ditch, bits of jack scattered in the gravel as if blown to bits. “She doesn’t strike me as the type to take the first offer out there without weighing her options.”

  “Well, I still think you should take her riding tomorrow. Check it out. You might learn something about what she’s thinking, and if not, well, you still get to spend time with a mighty pretty lady.”

  Jack looked at his old friend, considering all the things Walt didn’t know, like Samantha’s reaction when he’d been an idiot and kissed her. “I’m not sure she’ll go with me, Walt. I may not be her favorite person right now.”

  “Well, get down there and become her favorite person, son. Or at least the person she’s gonna want to sell to. You sit around here much longer and you’re gonna find yourself without your best grazing land.”

  “I’ll go down and see what I can do. If—” Jack shoved open the stall door and passed the shovel to his friend “—you finish cleaning out this stall and rubbing down Sugar’s leg.”

  Jack strolled casually out of the barn, pretending that he didn’t want to race down to see her again. Walter was onto him though; his creaky laughter following him out of the barn and into the warm afternoon air.

  * * *

  SAMANTHA WAS KNEELING on the porch when Jack arrived, a scarf holding back her hair and a paintbrush in her hand. She looked up and stood, watching him come with a wary expression he didn’t recognize.

  “Hey, neighbor. How was your week?” Her voice seemed artificially bright. She gave him a smile but it was hesitant, and there was something on her cheek. A tearstain?

  He took the porch steps two at a time, sudden dread hollowing his stomach. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong.” She took a few steps toward him.

  “Something’s wrong.” He looked down at her face, pale in the evening light. She looked up at him defiantly, and he met her wide, green eyes, then looked beyond at where she’d been working. Outrage welled up and he took her by the shoulders and firmly moved her out of the way so he could see the porch behind her more clearly. Scrawled on the floor of the porch in black spray paint were the words Go Home!

  He turned to face her, taking the paint can and brush from her shaking hands. “Who did this?”

  “I don’t know. When I got here a few minutes ago it was here.” She was trying to keep her voice firm, but it wavered, and she looked away.

  “Did you call the sheriff?”

  “No!” Noticing his incredulous look she continued. “Jack, it’s probably just kids. I found some of this old porch paint in the shed and I can cover it up. It’s fine.”

  “You may be used to this kind of thing in the city but it doesn’t usually happen out here.” A slow burn of anger rose as he imagined what kind of person would drive all the way out here to vandalize her porch. And what he’d like to do to that person. “You shouldn’t be dealing with this on your own, Samantha. Why didn’t you come get me?”

  She looked away and her chin tilted up at a stubborn angle. “I think I’ve bothered you enough. I’m perfectly capable of fixing this problem myself.”

  He couldn’t stop the worry that was flooding him. “Did they go inside? Did they take anything?” His voice was urgent. “You need to call the sheriff!”

  “Jack, I’m fine!” Frustration took the worry out of her voice and straightened her spine. “I don’t need you coming here telling me what to do! The doors were locked and it doesn’t look like they tried to get in. It’s just bored teenagers. I’m not calling the sheriff and having news of this spread all over town.” She grabbed the paint back and strode over to the words, kneeling down to slather the thick gray over the sprawling letters.

  Jack watched her bemusedly for a moment, trying to calm down. She was right, he had no business barking orders at her, but he didn’t like the feel of this. He’d be quiet for now, but he was going to have a talk with the sheriff this week, whether she liked it—or knew about it—or not.

  He walked toward her and knelt down, so he could see her face. Her jaw was set, and she looked away.

  “Hey, Samantha...I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to take charge.” She kept painting with fierce, determined strokes. “Samantha, wait. Let me finish this.” For all her brave words, she was shaken and furious, and there were tears still threatening to spill over.

  “No, thank you. I’ve got it under control.” Her voice was coiled with tension.

  “Samantha.” He made his voice gentle, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Yes, you can do this yourself. I know that.
But please, let me do it for you. It’s not a bother. I want to.”

  She paused for a moment, then shoved the rusty paint can and brush in the direction of his voice and stood, turning away from him without a word. He picked up the paint and started slathering it on the boards, giving her the space she needed. Eventually she spoke.

  “I’m sorry, I know I’m overreacting. It’s just that I had a really, really rough week. And this is my grandma’s house, and she entrusted it to me and...” Her voice trailed off and he could hear her taking a shaky breath. “I guess I feel like I failed her. In just a few weeks I’ve already messed it up.”

  He stood in shock at her words. “You messed it up? You? Jeez, Samantha, do you really think that you have control over everything? You were out of town, for Pete’s sake. You weren’t even here. How did you mess it up?”

  She turned and shrugged, pointing to the remnants of the graffiti. “Well, it is a little personal, isn’t it?” Her lip quivered and she brushed her wrist across her face. “I don’t know why this has me so upset!” She turned away again but he caught her arm and pulled her back toward him. Her face registered surprise, then anger at his rough handling but he didn’t care.

  “Samantha, listen to me. I don’t know you very well, but I know you had nothing to do with this.” He could taste her breath he was so close. See the wet shimmer of her lip where she’d licked it, the unshed tears that her pride held back glittering in her eyes. The urge to pull her close and give her comfort was overwhelming. He quickly set her away from him.

  “Come riding with me tomorrow.” It was a demand, more than a question.

  Her voice was breathy and he realized that she’d felt it too, the pull that was between them. “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” He watched her battle to put that mask of composure back on her troubled face.

  “I just have a lot to do here.” She gestured around the house. “You should know, you made my to-do list for me!” She gave a halfhearted smile.

  Jack tried to ignore the disappointment and just stood, watching her. She looked miserable. Tired and worn and more in need of a day in the mountains than anyone he’d ever seen. He paused, wondering how to say what he needed to without offending her.

 

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