by Jane Porter
“Did you tell him we aren’t engaged?”
“No. I told him I wanted him out of my life. I made it clear he wasn’t involved in my career anymore. He wasn’t my manager, or my friend, and he needed to leave, and never bother me again.”
Sam felt a rush of protective pride. Good girl. That couldn’t have been easy for her. “Proud of you.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t.”
She gave him another long look. “You can’t tell people we’re engaged if it’s not true. It’s not okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
Ivy sighed. “What do you want to drink?”
“Just a water.”
“That’s it?”
He nodded. “But check this out. You might like this place. It sounds like it would be perfect for you.”
“What makes it so perfect?” she asked.
“It’s not far from here. It has twenty-one acres. A nice house, as well as a second cabin on the property that could serve as a bunk house or vacation rental property.”
She carried the water over and set it down in front of him. “What else?”
“Small animal pens, barn, huge shop for cars and garage.”
“Only the barn interests me.”
“Private air strip adjacent to property,” he added.
“I don’t care about that.”
Sam smiled. “How about the indoor arena, stable with tack rooms, eight stalls, vet room, wrangler’s quarters?”
“You’re talking my language now.”
“Outdoor arena,” he added, glancing down to read, “Plus ten individually fenced paddocks, all with auto waterers.”
He could see from her expression she really liked everything he was saying. “How does the house look?”
“Reminds me of your mom’s house in Custer. A single-story ranch. Attractive but not overly fancy.”
Ivy held her hand out for the magazine and he gave it to her. “It does look a little like Mom’s,” she said, before inhaling sharply. “Sam, it’s still over a million.”
“You could offer less, get it for maybe a million.”
Ivy’s eyes suddenly filled with tears. “You don’t get it, do you? I don’t have a million dollars. I don’t even have a trailer anymore. Why tease me like that? I’m not you. I don’t rake in a quarter of a million dollars in one week in Vegas. It takes me an entire year to earn two hundred thousand, and that’s in my best year ever, riding three or four rodeos a weekend, and placing high in Vegas. My best year is your average year, and maybe that’s why my career never was as important as yours—”
“I have never said that.”
“Maybe not in words, but in actions. You entered the rodeos best for you. It was always what was best for you.” And then she dropped the magazine and walked off.
Sam wrestled with her words, first confused, then angry, and then perplexed again. Is that how she thought it was? Is that really what she believed? He’d never not considered her? She was wrong. Because he’d never thought his career was more important. Yes, he did make more money, but he needed to make more money, especially if he was going to provide for a family. Ivy wouldn’t be able to compete when pregnant, and there would be years she couldn’t travel when they had babies, so yes, he needed to be the primary breadwinner but it wasn’t to marginalize her, it was to reassure her that he was planning for the future. Their future.
Unfortunately, Ivy didn’t give him a chance to talk about any of this as she avoided him for the rest of the night. Sam killed time by watching the weather reports—snow was coming, possibly a lot of snow—and checking news on his phone, and flipping through the remaining magazines.
When Ivy was finally free to leave, they walked out together but she was still giving him the silent treatment as they climbed into his truck and set off south on Highway 89 for Pray and the Wyatt Ranch.
Ivy didn’t seem inclined to start a conversation so Sam dove straight in. “I have never once treated you like a second-class citizen.”
“I’m tired, Sam. I don’t want to talk about it tonight because we’ll just end up in another fight.”
“Just explain one thing to me. How did I humiliate you by reaching out to Wes?”
“First, you went behind my back and texted him. Not okay. And second, you made up stupid stuff about us being engaged—”
“How is that humiliating?”
“How is it not? I would have killed to hear just one of those things when we were dating. I would have loved a ring… a proposal… a wedding. I would have loved your undivided attention, but I never got it. Not for a day, never mind a week.”
Sam swore under his breath.
“I heard that,” she said.
“Good, because this is absurd.”
“It’s not absurd, and this, what we’re talking about right now, is why we broke up—”
“I didn’t break up with you,” he corrected.
“No, I broke up with you because I wanted to be important to you and I was tired of trying to get your attention. Your horses got more attention than I did. Your brothers got more attention. Heck, the rodeo clowns got more attention, too.”
He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or not. “Now you’re just being dramatic, and if it makes you feel better, go ahead, because after everything Wes has put you through, you’re entitled to let off a little steam.”
Ivy stomped one boot on the floorboard. “You’re giving me permission to be upset? You’re giving me permission to have feelings? That’s so good of you, Sam. Thank you.”
“That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it. I would never disrespect you. Not ever.”
Sam was so angry his jaw ached from grinding his back molars so hard. “And I definitely wasn’t trying to make you feel bad by telling you about the horse property near Livingston. I thought you’d like it. I thought it was something within your reach.”
“A million dollars? Sam, I’ve got nothing.”
“I don’t think it’s that bad. Wes made it sound like you have some investments left. Maybe not as much as you should but apparently you’re not destitute.”
“How do you know?”
“I made Wes tell me.”
“What specifically did he say?”
“That he’s bought some stocks and bonds for you…” He made a face. “But he made some bad investments, too.” Sam glanced at her. “The good news is that you also have your mom’s place. Once you sell that property, you’ll be able to afford something you like.”
“But that’s still a couple years away.”
“Unless you could get your renters to leave.”
“How do I do that?”
“Give them an incentive. Make an offer they can’t refuse.”
“Which would cost more money.” She closed her eyes, held her breath. “I’m sorry for yelling at you. Sorry I said mean things.”
“What happened to your trailer?”
She slunk lower in her seat. “One of the ranch hands at Kruse’s backed into it, crushing it.”
“Did the guy reimburse you? Buy you a new trailer?”
“He was also laid off. Where is he going to find the money to pay me back?”
“Did you even ask?”
“He felt bad. I didn’t want to make him feel worse.”
“Ivy, you can’t always put everyone first. You’ve got to start putting yourself first.”
“If it had been Kruse, I would have asked for compensation, but Davey had nothing.”
Sam made a rough exasperated sound deep in his throat.
She glanced at him. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“No, say it. I want to know what you’re thinking.”
Sam knew that if he was honest, they were just going to end up fighting, but not being honest wasn’t right, either. “I’m thinking Wes got his claws into you because you’re so open, and too generous. You’re too quick to put others first. You have to put yourself firs
t. You have to do what is best for you.”
“Like you do?” she flashed, before she could stop herself.
His gaze just briefly met hers. “Is that really how you think of me?”
“You have a big family that loves you, but all you want to do is get away from them. You have no idea how lucky you are, no idea how blessed—”
“And you go through life like the only child you are, Ivy. I never got anything handed to me. I never had one parent’s sole attention. Never had new clothes, or a new horse. I grew up fighting for what I wanted, fighting for what I got. So don’t lecture me when you’re the one that runs away when things don’t work out. You’re the one that quits too early, not me.”
Chapter Eight
Ivy lay awake in bed, furious.
And she woke up Sunday morning out of sorts, and when she tried to figure out why she felt so blue, she remembered her fight with Sam last night and it just made her angry all over again.
This wasn’t working, being here, being near Sam, trying to act like they were friends when they weren’t friends. There was still so much between them… emotion, tension, frustration. There was so much unsettled, so much that confused her.
After a quick breakfast, she went in search of Sam, finding him in the Wyatt’s family room, talking to his mom. When she saw she was interrupting, she tried to tiptoe out, but Sam got up and followed her into the kitchen.
“I’ve been waiting for you to get up,” he said, checking the coffeepot and refilling his cup.
Instantly she was on guard. “Everything okay?”
“There was a family meeting last night while I was gone and apparently no one is comfortable with you working at the Wolf Den.”
“You want me to leave?”
“No. Why would you say that?”
“Because if everyone is uncomfortable, then I shouldn’t be here.”
“We’re not uncomfortable with you, Ivy. We’re uncomfortable with you working there.”
“You know I can’t just quit.”
“Why?”
“Because I made a commitment—”
“Not a good enough reason,” he interrupted. “You’re not safe there. George doesn’t even have a bouncer most of the time. If trouble walks in, you’re in trouble.”
Ivy paced the length of the kitchen floor. “Trouble hasn’t happened yet.”
“Your mom wouldn’t like it.”
She made another face. “You mean, you don’t like it.”
“No, I don’t like it, but your mom wouldn’t, either. How often does George come in anymore?”
“Not… often.”
“Do you know what he does all day?”
“No, and I don’t ask. I’m paid to show up, and so I do.”
“Well, I know what he does. He sits at home and drinks and smokes weed—”
“That’s his right.”
“While you slave away at his bar, taking responsibility for managing things so he doesn’t have to.”
“It’s my job.”
“I had no idea you liked it that much.”
She glared at him. “I don’t.”
“Then quit. Let George come in and work. It’s his damn bar. If it’s that important for the Wolf Den to be open on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, he can staff it himself.”
“But I already agreed to work.”
“Come on, Ivy. This isn’t about honoring a commitment. It’s about punishing yourself.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because Wes did a number on your head, and he’s still up there, torturing you. But it’s time you put a stop to it. Time to kick him out of your head. Time to take control of your life again.”
“I am. I have. I’ve been saving money, and have a plan. I’m going to be getting my own place soon and I’ll be able to start training again. It’s going to take some time, but I’m okay with that.”
“But I’m not. And Billy and Tommy care about you, a lot. They’re concerned, and they’ve talked to me, and they’ve decided to cover your shifts for a couple nights, giving George time to hire someone to replace you. Billy will work tomorrow night. Tommy will cover for you Tuesday night, and by then George should be able to hire a replacement. You’re not leaving him in the lurch. You’re giving him three days’ notice.”
“Tuesday is your mom’s birthday.”
“Tommy said he’d rather work, than have you at the bar.”
“Really? I seriously doubt they feel that strongly.”
“They do.”
“And I doubt they want to work at the Wolf Den.”
“They’re looking forward to it. They think it’s going to be fun.”
“Let’s go find your brothers. Let me talk to them. Let’s see how excited they are about this.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I—” She opened her mouth, closed it, then tried again. “I believe you’re trying to protect me, but I object to your family being dragged into this.”
Sam shook his head. “This is coming from them. Not me.”
“I’m going to ask them myself.”
“Do that.”
“I will.” She glared at him as she tugged on her jacket. “And don’t come with me. You’ll try to influence them.”
“I’m going to come with you, but I won’t say a word. I won’t even look at them. You’ll see, too, that I’m not making this up. No one wants you at the Wolf Den. Not Mom, not Grandad, not Joe—”
“Let’s just stay focused on the prospective bartenders, shall we?” she said, cutting him off and swinging open the kitchen door to step outside and march to the stables.
*
Sam did exactly as he’d promised. He hung back as Ivy entered the ring where Billy and Tommy were practicing on a calf roping dummy, and kept his mouth shut as she charged straight up to them.
“There is no need for you to take on my shifts at the bar,” she said, standing between the younger brothers. “I’m perfectly capable working there. I’ve been working there for almost two months—”
“It’s not the right place for a girl like you,” Tommy said.
“It’s rough,” Billy added. “We’re not comfortable with you there.”
“Sam shouldn’t have dragged you into this,” she answered.
“He didn’t,” Tommy answered. “We went to him. We told him we didn’t like it. You’re practically our sister, and our sister shouldn’t be there.”
“That’s right,” Billy echoed. “Bad things happen at the Wolf Den, and maybe they haven’t happened yet on your shift, but it’s just a matter of time.”
Ivy looked from one to the other. “I can handle myself.”
“Not saying you can’t,” Billy said. “But we care about you too much to feel good about you being down there. We’re not the only ones. Mom doesn’t like it. She worries. And Grandad… you know he doesn’t sleep until you’re home. And he wouldn’t want us telling you, but he thinks of you as a granddaughter—”
“We like feeling responsible for you,” Tommy said quietly. “And we like taking care of you. You’re important to us. You always have been.”
*
Sam watched as Ivy turned around and walked quickly out, head down, hands shoved deep into her coat pockets. He let her go, thinking this wasn’t the time to chase her down. She needed space and time to process her emotions. Maybe she’d also stop being so stubborn about working at that bar. It was ridiculous, but that was also Ivy. Once she made her mind up about something, it was almost impossible to convince her otherwise.
As the stable door banged shut behind Ivy, he entered the ring where his brothers were practicing roping.
Billy gathered his rope into a loose circle. “Aren’t you going to go talk to her?” Billy asked.
“I will. Just giving her a minute,” Sam answered.
“You think that’s wise? She’s pretty upset,” Tommy said.
“Your fault, you know,” Billy added, throwing his rope, only to quickly
pull it back. “You shouldn’t have let her go in the first place, Sam.”
“It’s what she wanted,” Sam said gruffly.
Billy rolled his eyes. “I may be allergic to relationships, but even I knew what Ivy wanted. You were just too bullheaded to give it to her.”
“I took care of her.”
“You talked to your horses more than you talked to her.” Billy made a lasso with his rope, and then snapped it flat. “She wouldn’t have left you if you’d given her more attention. We all know it.”
“You have no idea how much I loved her.”
“True,” Tommy said, throwing his rope, circling the dummy. “And maybe she didn’t, either.”
Sam shook his head and walked out of the arena. He wasn’t sure where he’d find her but there weren’t that many places she could go. He checked the tack room, she wasn’t there, and then he glanced into Scotch’s stall, and there she was, brushing Scotch, wiping away tears.
The tears made his head explode. “Why are you crying?”
She looked up, glared at him. “Because I feel like it.”
“Everyone is trying to help you, Ivy. We’re all trying to show you how much we care.”
“Great. Thank you. I appreciate it.”
“You don’t sound grateful.”
She marched toward the door. “I forgot how bossy you are. You’re almost as bad as Wes.”
“I’m nothing like Wes,” he ground out.
“He liked to tell me what to do.”
“No one will make you quit the Wolf Den if you love it that much, but we’re trying to help you find a way out if that’s what you truly want.”
“Once I get a new job, I’ll give George notice.”
“And until then? You’re just going to work Christmas Eve and Christmas Day as if there’s nothing special about this time of year?”
“Not for me, there isn’t. Not when Mom died just a month before Christmas. I don’t enjoy it anymore. I don’t want to celebrate it, Sam. It makes me sad, okay? Everything about the holiday makes me a little sad. And maybe that doesn’t make sense to you, but you’ve never lost your entire family. Mom was my entire family.”
“Maybe I didn’t lose my entire family, but I did lose my dad. He died when I was five. And death is awful. Death leaves a huge hole in one’s heart. It changes you forever.”