A Ranch to Keep

by Claire McEwen

Dana looked at Samantha questioningly and moved to walk past her. For the first time, Samantha felt sorry for her. What would it be like to have Mark as your future husband, knowing he was capable of lying and cheating? Knowing that you were going to spend your life with him, and raise a child with him, while always wondering if you could trust him?

  “Dana, wait.”

  “Yes?” Dana looked worried.

  “I just wanted to say congratulations. And good luck.”

  Dana looked at her in surprise. “Uh, yeah...thanks,” she said, and wandered off down the hall in search of Mark. Samantha watched her go, feeling so glad that she was no longer the person who waited around for Mark after work. So glad she no longer worked for him, either. So glad that somehow life was setting her free of him once and for all.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  THE SUN BEAMED in through the hallway window, enticing Samantha to lean against the frame and look out. From this side of the ranch house she could see back toward the valley, and the roofs of Benson peeked out from behind the tops of pines. Beyond the town, the highway ran like a snake through Owens Valley. The roads, the pastures, everything she could see was quiet and still, so early on a Saturday morning.

  She picked up her coffee and headed out to the back porch. Huddled under a blanket against the morning chill she sat on the step looking over the property. To her right was the hulk of ashes that was once the woodshed. Beyond that, the kitchen garden, choked with weeds. Grandma Ruth had loved that kitchen garden. She’d start putting in the crops soon after the snow melted. She was constantly experimenting with what she planted.

  Samantha let her eyes wander upward, past the empty pastures until granite began to take over the mountain meadows. Her ranch. Her land and her mountains, stretching all the way to Rock Lake. Lake Beautiful Ruth. Samantha closed her eyes as memories of her trip there with Jack overwhelmed her. She exhaled, trying to breathe out the pressure of the decision she was about to make.

  How was she supposed to handle this? She didn’t want to let the ranch go. She didn’t want to let Jack go. But her dream had come true. She was now the youngest senior vice president at Taylor Advertising. The youngest ever. And yesterday she’d learned that the pitch she’d somehow powered through the day she found out about Mark and Dana had been successful—Peter Claude Skincare was now their client. Her client. The biggest client the San Francisco office had ever landed.

  Since then, her phone had been ringing constantly and her email inbox filled up hourly, foretelling what her life was going to be like from now on. There wasn’t going to be much time for weekend trips to the ranch now. She had no choice but to say goodbye to all this. To say goodbye to Jack.

  Tears came again as she thought about the irony of it all. The moment she finally took a risk and allowed something to happen with Jack, the moment she’d really started to enjoy the ranch and the mountains, was also the moment that life had given her everything she’d been working for in San Francisco. Be careful what you wish for, she thought bitterly.

  A dog’s distant bark, sharp and abrupt in the morning air, had her turning her head in the direction of the sound. She could hear the crunch of footsteps on gravel and she imagined Jack striding around the truck, pulling open the passenger door to the cab.

  “Hector! Zeke!” His deep voice carried perfectly. “Scoot over there, Hector. You’re getting fat as a hen, you old rascal. Down, Zeke! Sit!” The slam of the truck door and the growl of its engine echoed down the valley and she knew she couldn’t wait any longer.

  She needed to screw up her courage, walk up that hill and say goodbye.

  * * *

  A SINGLE BARK from Zeke had Jack turning around. Samantha was coming up the drive toward the paddock. He’d hoped she’d show up early today. He wanted to take her for a ride to the lake. He’d even bought supplies for a picnic lunch. They could cool a couple of beers in the water while they swam, though come to think of it, he couldn’t quite imagine Samantha drinking a beer. Maybe he had some white wine in his refrigerator. He’d have to check.

  He started toward her, trying to keep his smile from reaching ear to ear. Her black hair was blown sleek and straight and she’d wrapped a pale pink scarf around her neck to block the morning chill. She was so beautiful, such a welcome sight that he didn’t quite know where to look.

  “Hey, Frisco,” was all he could think to say. He opened his arms and she stepped in and it felt so incredibly good to hold her again. He dropped his head and breathed in the fresh scent of her hair, felt the delicate strength of her in his arms, just like he’d remembered.

  She was shaking. He stepped back and held her at arms length and saw tears tracing their tracks down her face.

  “Samantha, what’s wrong? Is it the house? Are you okay?” His mind swirled. Was Rob Morgan trying something new? That was impossible.

  “Jack, do you still want to buy the ranch?”

  His heart dropped. He actually felt it drop and slam into the bottom of his stomach. “What are you saying?”

  Her green eyes were dark with brimming tears. “I got a promotion last week. It’s the job I’ve always wanted. It’s what I’ve been working so hard for.” Jack stared at her, trying to understand how all this fit together in her head.

  “That’s great! Congratulations. But it doesn’t mean you have to sell me the ranch.”

  “I won’t have time to come out here anymore.” Her voice had a quaver in it he’d never heard before.

  “Not come here? Aren’t you being a little extreme?”

  “No. I’m not. I’m the youngest person ever to become senior vice president in my office. I’m going to have a lot to prove. And we just landed a huge new account. I’ll be working. All the time.”

  “What about what happened between us last weekend? That didn’t mean anything to you?” He knew he sounded like a girl and it pissed him off even more.

  “It meant everything, Jack. It still does. It always will.” Tears rolled down her cheeks and she swiped at them impatiently with her sleeve. “I’m so sorry. I loved last weekend. I’ll never forget it. This has all been so amazing. I didn’t even know I could feel this way.”

  He couldn’t stay calm. Couldn’t think clearly enough to say things politely. “So do something about it. Don’t just walk away. It doesn’t make sense.”

  “It does make sense.” Her full mouth was set in a stubborn line. “We’ve each worked so hard to find our path through life, and simply because we found each other doesn’t mean we should give that up.”

  “I disagree.” He couldn’t believe this was happening. “Jobs come and go, Samantha.”

  “Are you willing to give up yours for me, Jack?”

  She had him there. He couldn’t give up the ranch and everything he’d worked for. “It’s different,” he tried. “My job has to be located out here. Or in the country somewhere. But you could do yours anywhere.”

  “I couldn’t. Not this job. Not the one I’ve worked so hard for. Jack, I’ve thought about it all week. We have to accept that, whatever we might feel, this is just not practical.”

  “Practical?” he spat back. “No it’s not. Is love supposed to be?”

  Samantha looked completely caught off guard. “Well, to have a relationship with someone...it can’t be about attraction alone. It has to make sense, it has to fit into your life, it has to...”

  “Be something you can control?” Jack covered the ground between them in two strides and took her shoulders, shaking her just a little with the force of his grip. “I don’t think so, Samantha. I think this is way beyond either of our control.” He looked into her eyes, trying to see into her soul. Trying to reach her. “You want to have your hands on the wheel at all times. With me you don’t and it scares you. You’re scared of what’s happening to you because you can’t control it, and you can’t or
ganize it into some neat little package.”

  Her eyes flashed as her temper flared up. Probably because she knew he’d spoken the truth. “I’m not scared, Jack. Just realistic.”

  “What’s realistic is to stay here and find a way to make it work.”

  She stared at him as if he’d suggested she visit another planet. “You don’t understand, do you? This job, this promotion, has been my dream for so long. I can’t just walk away from it now that it’s finally come true.”

  “What about this?” Jack gestured to the mountains around them. “What about this dream?”

  “This was my grandparents’ dream. It’s your dream. It was never my dream.” Her jaw was set in a stubborn line.

  “Dreams can change, Samantha. Has that ever occurred to you? They’re about what you wish for in the moment. Not what you wanted six years ago when you were a kid fresh out of college. They’re not set in stone.”

  “I got what I wished for,” she said firmly. “And I need to see it through.”

  Well, he couldn’t argue when she was that blunt. He played his last card. He was that desperate. “I care about you, Samantha. And I think you care about me.”

  “It’s not enough, Jack. We know that. Think about your marriage. Were your feelings for Amy enough for her to be happy here?”

  That stung. He turned away and grabbed the halter he’d hung on a fence post earlier and tossed it into the truck bed. Just to have something to do.

  When he turned back around, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Maybe you can recommend a real estate agent, or another attorney we can use for the sale,” she said softly. “I’ll get the ranch appraised as soon as I can. We might as well get going on this.”

  He couldn’t move because if he did he might do something crazy. Yell, or shake her or pick her up and run off into his house with her. So he just stood there, his hand on his truck, not wanting her to leave.

  Samantha gave him a worried look and then glanced at her watch. “Well,” she said, “I’d better get going. I have packing to do.”

  His voice didn’t seem to be working and like hell was he going to make small talk with her anyway.

  She seemed to understand that he had nothing more to say. She swiped at her eyes with her sleeve, looking irritated with the tears. “Goodbye, Jack. Thank you, for everything. I’m glad we met.”

  He just stood there watching her go. When she disappeared down the trail, it felt like she’d ripped out his heart and taken it with her.

  * * *

  THE LOOK she’d seen on Jack’s face when she’d said goodbye haunted her. Samantha had always assumed it was just her own heart she was risking by getting involved with Jack. Now she saw that she’d hurt him as well. She knew his confident, almost cocky nature. And she knew that it had taken a lot for him to ask her to stay, yet he had asked again and again. And she’d still said no. But the harsh reality was that she couldn’t stay. Her time on the ranch had been an incredible detour, but it wasn’t her real life. She had no choice but to get back to that now.

  Her car was packed with mementos she knew she’d cherish forever. The letters she’d found, old photos, one of the old afghans Ruth had crocheted in the 1970s, back when everyone was making them. There’d be more moving to do later, but the most important items were in the car, ready for the journey to San Francisco.

  And that was it. Her heart hurt so much right now, she knew she wouldn’t have the courage to come back here. Luckily, most other things could be done from a safe distance. Appraisers and real estate agents could take care of the sale, and movers could be hired by phone to pack the house and take everything to a storage unit in San Francisco. It was amazing how, once she’d made her decision, it was so easy to wrap up the loose ends. She wished her feelings could be taken care of so easily.

  The evening light gave a soft glow to the pastures around the driveway. It painted the high peaks in gold-tipped shadows. Samantha could hear the goats that Jack had brought her munching and bleating nearby. She walked over to the fence and watched them eat. They brought so much tranquility with the rustle of their hooves in the dry grass.

  The tiny white goat scampered over to rub its forehead on her hand. “Hey, little one,” she crooned, rubbing its soft ears. “Hey, you little sweet thing.”

  “Maaa!” it bleated with incredible volume and Samantha jumped back with a yelp of surprise, smiling in spite of her dark mood.

  “Scared by the world’s smallest goat!” she told it. “Just more evidence that I’m not cut out to be a rancher.” Grateful for the levity amidst so much heartache, she turned to go.

  Leaning on the car, keys in hand, Samantha tried to take it all in. For a few incredible weeks she’d owned a large part of all that she could see. The beloved farmhouse, the pastures, the hills above, and the lake and mountains beyond that. She’d shared time with horses, goats and the most gorgeous man she’d ever known.

  “Thank you, Grandma,” she whispered. “You gave me one of the greatest adventures of my life.”

  Images of her grandparents working on the ranch flooded her mind. The era of their toil and love had come to an end, and she felt guilty that she wasn’t the granddaughter they’d deserved, the one who could follow in their footsteps. But she was grateful the land would pass into Jack’s capable hands. He would continue to shepherd it safely into the future. She hoped her grandmother would approve.

  She looked down the driveway and saw the stump of the old pine tree, its torn wood still raw and jagged. Jack had tried so hard not to laugh when he saw her poor car that evening. More images followed. Jack’s laughing, mocking eyes when they’d first met, the tenderness in his voice when he’d patched her up after she fell off the ladder, the way he looked after he kissed her that first time. She remembered the heat of his passion, and the way desire changed his voice.

  She wanted to memorize it all. She wanted a vivid picture of this ranch, this land and the incredible man she’d gotten to know and grown to love. Then, no matter how busy she got, no matter how much time she logged at the office in her new job, she’d be able to pull the memories out, to revisit the precious time when she’d owned a ranch and loved a cowboy.

  But right now the memories hurt like fresh wounds and she instinctively turned away from the pain, opening the car door and getting into the driver’s seat. She took one more glance up toward Jack’s property, and blew a kiss in his general direction. Tears poured in rivers down her cheeks as her car rolled down the drive.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  JACK LEANED HIS HEAD on the column of his front porch, then he banged it once, hard. He didn’t know who he was angrier with—Samantha for her decision to leave, or himself for missing her so much. Or maybe he was so pissed off because she was right? Their being together went against all logic and all reason. He should know better than to head down the same dead-end road he’d been on with Amy. A road that had ended once already in divorce and disaster, as Samantha had so kindly reminded him yesterday.

  He took a long swallow of the beer in his hand. Somehow, all yesterday evening, he’d expected her to reconsider. He’d hoped she’d decide that there was no career, no ambition that was more important than them being together. But at dusk he’d watched her car disappear down the driveway, leaving him with his memories, burned into his brain, etched onto his heart. He had a feeling they weren’t fading away anytime soon.

  Jack had moved on to his second beer when Betty’s truck roared up his driveway.

  “Morning,” he said as she emerged from the cab and hurried over to him with a basket that he very much hoped contained some freshly baked muffins. She gave him a hug, handed him the basket and cuffed him hard upside the head.

  “Ouch, Betty! What are you doing?” He rubbed the side of his head in surprise.

  “That,” she said, pointing to the basket, “is be
cause I heard that Samantha left. And that,” she continued, pointing toward the ear she’d just smacked, “is because you’re a fool, Jack Baron, and it’s time I told you so.”

  “A fool!” Jack looked at his old friend in disbelief. “Betty, I may be stupid sometimes, but I can’t think what it is I’ve done that was bad enough for you to drive up here just to wail on me!”

  Betty looked like an angry hen as she paced in front of him. “You let Samantha go! Anyone can see that you are meant for each other and yet she’s gone back to San Francisco and you’re getting drunk on your porch at ten-thirty in the morning!” Betty stopped and faced him with a small huff and waited, tapping her toe impatiently.

  “Whoa, slow down. Who made you my keeper?”

  “I did. Ever since I saw the way you look at her. The way you talk about her. You love her.”

  “She doesn’t care, Betty. I told her how I felt and it made no difference. She’s selling the ranch. To me.” He took another swallow of beer. “Huh, be careful what you wish for, right?”

  “Enough! Stop feeling sorry for yourself.” Betty softened her voice. “Jack, you can’t give up. You have to try!”

  This was the last straw. He was tired, he’d just been dumped, and now his ear was sore. “Try? Betty, all I’ve done is try. I took her riding, I took her camping, I pulled boards off her windows and put them back on again. I’ve put out fires, chopped up trees. I’ve done nothing but rescue and help...I even drove a bunch of goats in my trailer for her. Do you have any idea what a mess I had to clean afterward? And I asked her to stay...over and over like some pathetic wimp. So don’t tell me I’m not trying!”

  He realized he was waving his hands in wild gestures to punctuate his speech. “Sorry, Betty.” He mumbled and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m just so frustrated.”

  Betty gave a hearty chuckle. “Oh, honey, you are a mess.” She pointed to the chair next to her. “Now sit down and listen—carefully.”

  Jack took a swallow of beer and sat down. Betty took his hand.