SHE WOKE UP WHAT FELT LIKE minutes later, but that Clint would later tell her wasn’t for another twenty-four hours. This time the tube was out of her mouth. When she cocked her head and saw Clint sitting in a chair, cowboy hat tipped over his face, feet propped up. She was able to let out a barely audible “Ahem” that came out sounding more like a gag.
He jerked awake.
“Sam.”
More gagging.
“It’s from the tube,” he said, turning and grabbing a cup from somewhere. “They said your throat would feel dry.”
They had that right, but of course, she’d been through this before.
“Here.” He positioned a straw in front of her.
She followed it with her eyes. He held it up to her mouth. “That okay?” he asked.
She nodded, then immediately wished she hadn’t. Her head. Dear God, what had she done to her head? Was it related to the embolism?
“Let me call the doctor and tell him you’re awake.”
“Wha—” Ah, that sounded better. “What.” She tried again. “Happened.”
“You came off Coaster,” he said, holding the cup steady for her.
Her eyes widened.
“Damn horse bucked you off.”
“No,” she whispered.
He smiled, and then he laughed. “Even as messed up as you are, you still think that damn horse of yours walks on water.”
“Does,” she said after he helped her take another sip of water.
Clint shook his head, but he was still smiling. “Well, as it happens, you’re right. He didn’t buck you off, I guess you could say you sort of fell off.”
She raised her eyebrows because that was about all she felt like doing.
“Let me call the doctor.”
Sam wanted to go back to sleep. She didn’t want to be examined by yet another doctor. Actually, she was pretty certain she did go back to sleep because when she next opened her eyes, a doctor was there.
“Sam, this is Dr. Tyson. He’s going to check your vision.”
Her vision? What was wrong with her vision? For the first time she realized that something was different.
“Hi, Sam,” Dr. Tyson said. He had dark hair and kind blue eyes. “Could you look at my finger, please?”
Sam glanced at Clint before doing as asked.
“Can you see this?” the doctor asked, wiggling a finger back and forth.
She nodded, but slowly this time so it wouldn’t hurt.
“Now. Keep your eyes here.” He lifted his other hand and Sam suddenly recognized the test she was being given. They were checking her peripheral vision.
“Can you see this hand?” the doctor asked.
Sam just about jerked out of bed. She would have, too, except she knew it would hurt too much…but she could see his hand.
Her eyes must have told the whole story because the doctor smiled. Clint was smiling, too.
“How about the other eye?” the doctor asked. “Can you see this hand, too?” he asked, switching things around.
“Yes,” Sam managed to get out. She closed her eyes for a second, hardly daring to believe it. When she opened them again, she could see it all. Her bed, the ceiling above, the window to her right…Clint.
She smiled then, though it felt funny—as if she hadn’t used her facial muscles in a long time.
“I can’t believe it,” Clint said. “I just can’t believe it.”
“Remarkable,” Dr. Tyson admitted.
“What,” she gasped out. If she whispered, she could make herself heard better, she realized. “What did you do to me?”
“They didn’t do anything,” Clint said, the expression on his face tender. “I think you have a couple of angels in heaven who gave you back your eyes.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
She was in the hospital for another week, mostly because her doctors wanted to run a battery of tests. They were mystified and fascinated by her embolism—or lack thereof. There was talk of exciting new research, and maybe even a new technique to treat her condition, all of which Sam listened to with half an ear. She just wanted to get back to the ranch.
And Clint.
He was with her almost every moment of every day, trading places sometimes with Gigi, but there for her in a way Sam had never thought to have. She learned about Lorenzo. He had been found and caught about the time Sam had been lifted out. They hadn’t pressed charges—all they could do was go after him for trespassing—but Clint had vowed to do exactly that if the man ever came on his property again, or talked about the mustangs.
When she was released, she went back to the ranch where Gigi promised to take care of her like she’d never been cared for before.
And as the days passed, she had a constant stream of visitors. And so while she still found herself missing her parents—her “angels” in heaven—she was never alone. It was great…
For a while.
The day Sam decided to visit the stable was a day no one on the ranch would ever forget. Clint flat out refused to take her to the barn. He told her she needed to stay off her feet, something that Sam considered ludicrous. She’d been off her feet for weeks, and all she’d had was a really bad concussion. Sure, she still had bouts of dizziness, but she wasn’t going to drive a car.
So when Clint wasn’t looking (and Gigi was busy in the kitchen) she snuck out. Sunshine warmed her body…and her heart, the smell of springtime wild flowers filling the air. She tipped her head back and simply soaked in the sun. This was what she needed. There was nothing like good old-fashioned UV rays to heal the soul.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Uh-oh.
“I told you to stay in bed.”
She truly hated it when Clint became overprotective. “Clint,” she said, meeting his stern expression, “you can’t keep me locked away forever. I feel like Rapunzel in there.” She pointed to the house behind her. “Except you don’t want me to escape the castle. It’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous,” he said, motioning for her to turn around and march back up the steps she’d been about to sit on.
“No.”
“No?” he repeated, crossing his arms in front of him.
“No.” She folded her arms, too.
“Don’t make me pick you up and carry you.”
“Don’t make me run.”
He lunged, and she darted. But he caught her by the middle. “Clint!” Even though she was furious at his highhanded attitude, she felt a giggle bubble up inside. “Let me go right now.”
“Not until I carry you back to bed.”
She spun around in his arms, raised an eyebrow and asked, “Do you plan to join me there?”
“No.”
She twisted out of his arms, having to work hard to keep the dizziness at bay. “Seriously, Clint, this is getting old. I need to be outside. In the barn, preferably. Someplace other than in the bedroom.”
“Not until you get a clean bill of health.”
He would brook no argument. And so, frustrated, she went back in the house. Gigi glanced up in surprise from where she stood at the counter, chopping lettuce by the look of it.
“How’d you get outside?”
“I cut through the barbwire,” Sam muttered heading upstairs although, technically, she was allowed to recline on the couch.
“Is Clint driving you crazy?” Gigi called after her.
Sam returned reluctantly and dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. “Honestly, Gigi, I don’t think I can take much more of this.”
“He’s got your best interest at heart.”
“Yeah, but when’s it going to stop?”
Gigi shrugged. Sam stared out the kitchen window. She could see Clint going to the barn. They hadn’t been out to gather the last of the mustangs, something they planned to do next week before the weather got too hot and the lower pastures too dry.
“Do you think he loves me?” Sam found herself asking.
Gigi snorte
d. “If you’d seen him at the hospital that first day when we all thought you might die, you wouldn’t have to ask that question.”
“No,” she said, swiveling on her chair. “Do you think he loves me.” She tapped her chest. “Not Sam the pitiful soon-to-be-blind woman. Or Sam the head injury victim. But me…Sam the geologist. Sam the champion show-horse rider.”
Gigi paused in the middle of what she was doing. “What are you saying?”
She looked out the window again. She was just in time to see Clint disappear into the barn. “It all happened so fast, Gigi. One minute I was asking you about the Baer Mountain Mustangs and the next Clint was holding my hand in the hospital.”
Gigi moved toward her, the smell of basil following her. That’s what she must’ve been cutting. “Sometimes things happen that way. You don’t need to be afraid it’s not real.”
Sam looked into Gigi’s eyes. “Is it real?”
“I don’t know,” Gigi said. “You tell me.”
She couldn’t hold the woman’s gaze. “I think I need to go away.”
“What?”
“Leave…for a little while.” Maybe longer than a little while.
“Sam!” Gigi cried. “You can’t be serious.”
Sam took a deep breath. “I am.”
“But—” The woman was at a loss for words.
“Where will I go?” Sam finished for her. “Back to Wilmington. To my apartment. Try to find a job. Repay you for Coaster.”
“But that could take months.” Gigi sounded truly horrified.
“Maybe not. And maybe the minute I get to Delaware I’ll turn around and come back.” She felt her stomach churn at the idea of driving away. But what if her feelings for Clint wouldn’t stand the test of time? What if this was the equivalent to a cruise ship romance—albeit one with more drama—but a holiday romance nonetheless.
What if?
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Clint said when she broached the subject with him after lunch. Gigi had left them alone after staring from one to the other as if it might be the last time. “I know what’s in my heart.”
But, see, that was the problem. He knew. I’m right, you’re wrong, just do what I say. It drove her nuts. This time, she wasn’t going to back down.
“I’m leaving,” she said, her heart racing. “Next week.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Clint echoed Gigi. He stared at her from across the kitchen table, cowboy hat firmly in place. “You’re staying right here.”
“Or what?” she asked, tipping her head to the side.
Mistake.
She grew dizzy.
“See,” he pounced. “You’re feeling light-headed again, I can tell.”
“No,” she lied. “I’m fine. And the doctors said I’ll be okay to drive in a few more days. I’m going back home. Get things settled. Try to figure out where to go from there.”
“Your home is here,” Clint said.
“Maybe,” she admitted.
“Maybe?” But then he shook his head. “Maybe,” he repeated, softer this time. “How can you say that after everything we’ve been through?”
She got up and went to him, touched his arm. They hadn’t made love since…well…since before. But as always happened when she caressed his arm she got all fluttery inside. Sexual attraction. They had that in spades.
“It’ll just be for a little while,” she said gently. “And I promise to call. I need to do this, Clint. For myself.” And for us. One of them needed to be sensible. It would be foolish to give up her life in Wilmington, at least not without testing the waters first.
That’s not what you thought when you were going blind.
But she silenced that voice.
“I love you,” he said, lifting his hands so he could cup her face. “I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love a woman. Don’t do this, Sam. Stay here. It’s where you were meant to be.”
“Are you certain?” she asked, holding his gaze with her own. “Are you absolutely certain?”
“Yes,” he said. “What I feel is real. You feel it, too.”
Did she? Did she really? Or was it gratitude? Did she love this man because he’d been kind to her, or because it was meant to be?
“Don’t make this hard on me,” she begged.
He moved away.
“Clint, wait. No. Don’t let it be like this. It’s the right thing to do. You’ll see that once I’m gone.”
“Go on then,” he said, turning back to her. “If you’re going to leave, you might as well leave now. I’ll have Dean drive you to town. You can stay in a hotel. I’ll have one of the boys follow with your car.”
“Clint, no, I don’t have to leave now—”
He all but slammed the kitchen door.
“Damn,” she muttered. “Damn, damn, damn.”
She didn’t want to leave now. She wanted a chance to say goodbye to the place. To Gigi. To her horse.
“You need help packing?” Gigi asked a few seconds later.
“I think he kicked me out.”
“He’s hurt, Sam. Seeing you here. Knowing you’re going to leave. He knows it’ll only make him hurt worse. He’s just trying to protect himself.”
She hadn’t thought of it that way. “Then I guess maybe he’s right.”
“You want Dean to drive you into town?”
She hesitated for a moment, but there was no backing down now. “Yes,” she said firmly.
As she headed upstairs, she wrestled with her conscience. Turn around, go find Clint, tell him you were wrong. But what if I’m not wrong?
She packed with Gigi’s help, and when Dean pulled up in his truck, she prepared to climb inside. Clint stood near one of the barn’s double doors, his body erect, his gaze intense even from that distance.
“Did you want to say goodbye to Coaster?” Gigi asked.
Yes. She wanted to see her horse. Desperately. But she didn’t think she could bear to see the recriminations in Clint’s eyes.
“Give him a kiss on the nose for me, would you?” Sam climbed inside.
“Please don’t do this,” Gigi implored.
Sam sucked in a deep breath. “I have to, Gigi. It’s the right thing to do for both of us.”
She glanced back at the barn. Clint was still standing there.
Please don’t let me leave without saying goodbye.
He spun on his heel and walked away, his body swallowed by the shadow of the barn.
Chapter Twenty-Six
A million times during the next few days Sam told herself to go back. It would have been so easy to get into her car and drive herself to the ranch—or to have someone drive her back.
She loved Clint. She was sure she did. Whether or not she loved him for the right reasons, though, that remained to be seen. Clint needed this break, too. He might not admit that to himself…yet…but one day he would thank her.
She called him when she made it safely back to Delaware, but it was Gigi who picked up. She asked to talk to Clint but Gigi told her he was busy, even though Sam could clearly hear him in the background, refusing to take her call.
“Give it time, Sam,” Gigi whispered into the phone.
“Tell him…” She struggled to get the words out. “Tell him I love him.”
God. Why did saying those words out loud fill her with terror?
“I will,” Gigi said gently.
It was a terror that only grew in the succeeding days. Try as she might she couldn’t understand why. Why was she afraid of picking up stakes and moving to Montana? Was it because she didn’t want to lose everything she’d worked so hard to create for herself in Wilmington?
Or maybe it was the thought of letting go.
At last she understood.
It was scary to leave everything behind. Her friends, a city she loved…every thing. But rather than assuage her fears, figuring out their cause only made her feel worse. How in the hell was this all going to work out? Would Clint let her be true to herself? If she di
d pick up stakes and move to Montana, would he mind her working off the ranch? Did he expect her to stay home, have children, raise a family?
“He’s busy,” Gigi said for the umpteenth time when Sam called to ask him exactly that.
“Don’t give me that, Gigi,” Sam said. “Put him on.”
“Sam—”
“Now!”
“All right, all right…”
She heard the muffled sounds of Gigi talking with her hand over the phone, then Clint came on.
“Yeah,” he said.
“Stop it.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re acting like a baby.” Wait. That wasn’t what she’d meant to say.
“Excuse me,” he said, louder.
“We have important matters to discuss and you’re pouting and refusing to pick up the phone.”
“I haven’t had anything to say to you.”
Sam took a deep breath. “What if I don’t want kids?”
“We’ll breed show horses then,” he said instantly.
“What if I want to keep my job?”
“You don’t have a job.”
“Actually, I got my old job back. I start next week.”
Silence.
“So, I was thinking—”
She waited for him to say something, anything, that might encourage her. He didn’t.
“I was thinking,” she began again. “Maybe I could commute to the ranch on weekends.”
“Commute,” he repeated.
“Yeah. And then, maybe eventually, I could find a job out there.”
She waited.
“No.”
“Excuse me?” she said.
“I said no, Sam.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s all or nothing. Either you come live with us here on the ranch. Live. I’m not talking marriage, not at first if you don’t want, just be here with us. Or stay there.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it?” he asked. “Don’t you think it’s time to step up to the plate? To make a commitment one way or the other.”
“We hardly know each other.”
She heard him release a huff of anger. “If you still think that way by now, this isn’t going to work out.”
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