Nobody Else But You

by Claire Marti

  “Don’t mansplain to me ‘everything is going to be fine’ and pat me on the head like a good little girl.” She surged to her feet. “It is absolutely not fine, damn it. You don’t understand what it was like.”

  “Samantha, I know you’re upset but Harry will handle it. It’s going to be––” His tone turned soothing, which fanned the flames of her temper.

  “I told you it’s not fine, damn you. Do you even understand what we went through when my mom was killed? How hard it was to start over? What do you know about having a home? To finally be able to rest because someone created a safe haven for you and to see it threatened over a stupid movie?” The last words came out dangerously close to a scream.

  He leapt up from the couch, his eyes now a frosty ice blue. “You have no clue what I’ve done for my family. All you think about is your own little world and damn anyone who might jostle you out of your complacent little bubble. There’s a big world out there, beyond these gates and you can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist. You can’t control everything. You can’t spend your whole life hiding out.”

  “Bubble? That’s rich coming from you, Mr. Hollywood. You’re the one living in a bubble of camera, lights, and action. What happens when the cameras are shut off? Do you even have a life outside of it? And you’re right, I don’t have a clue about what you’ve been through because you haven’t told me anything. You’re in the middle of my family and know all our secrets. From what I can see, you’re basically a drifter, living from movie set to movie set.” The words tumbled out, the dam had broken open and she couldn’t control the ugly deluge. Anger was easier to navigate than sorrow. She ought to know.

  His jaw clamped shut and suddenly his entire expression was as glacial as his eyes. “You’ve got me all figured out. I drift from set to set and that’s all I am. This is all just another job to me until I drift onto the next one. I’ve got some things to do.” He pivoted and strode out of the room.

  The slam of the bedroom door echoed through the house and Sam pressed her hands against her churning gut and released a shaky breath. Her infamous McNeill temper had struck again.

  But the truth had come out. This was simply a job for him. His hooking up with her was simply a side benefit. A side benefit he probably took advantage of on every movie set.

  “Fine.” She whispered the word, a hollowness filling her where only seconds before anger had consumed her. Getting the last word offered no solace.

  Falling in love. Hardly.

  More like hot monkey lust. Heat. Sparks.

  Undeniable physical chemistry. Nothing more.

  Although he wasn’t the total jerk who had mouthed off the first day in her barn, he wasn’t relationship material. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t really either––she’d never cared about a relationship, figured the right man would show up once she’d achieved all the goals she had for Hercules as a top stallion and Pacific Vista Ranch. And when had the concept of love and commitment come into play? Who was living in the land of make-believe now?

  Sure, he was funny. Kind. Talented. Smart. Gorgeous.

  She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyelids. Now wasn’t the time to catalog all his positive qualities. What was the point? She’d been nasty just now and a sliver of remorse filled her. When would she ever learn to cool off her temper before opening her mouth? Taking back words didn’t work too well. Drifter might have been a little bit harsh. She needed to apologize.

  She took two steps toward the bedroom.

  Stopped.

  Not tonight. What was the point? She would never see him again when the movie wrapped and the movie could stop filming tomorrow. She turned and walked to the door, an unbearable weight dragging down her shoulders.

  She was rooted to the ranch and Holt had been working in the film industry since he was eighteen years old. He’d never really had an attachment to a place, so how could he understand how much this situation hurt her? Pacific Vista wasn’t just where she laid her weary head at night. It was everything. And she didn’t need to fall any deeper in…lust…like…whatever…with a man who had no clue what roots or family meant.

  He would be fine and move on to the next movie and the next woman. She’d be fine. They’d only known each other a short time and spent a few nights together. People did it all the time. Great sex, some laughs, and move on.

  The end.

  So why did her heart feel ripped out of her chest?

  25

  There you are. You snuck out without breakfast, but I’ve kept some pancakes warm for you, my girl. Your favorite: strawberry banana.” Angela pulled her in for a hug.

  Sam’s cotton shirt was plastered to her back and damp tendrils of hair itched the back of her neck. She sank into her stepmom’s warm embrace. What would she do without her soothing presence?

  “Definitely my favorite. These crazy Santa Ana winds are really stressing me out. The fire hazard is so high and I had to check all the stables and make sure trailers are ready for the horses and ensure our evacuation plan was firmly in place.” She mumbled the words into Angela’s shoulder, unwilling to relinquish the comfort of her arms.

  “The darned things literally kicked up again blowing overnight. Did you meet with all the grooms and ranch hands?” Angela didn’t seem to mind hugging a sweaty mess.

  “Yes, the evacuation protocols are set in stone should a fire erupt near the ranch. The poor horses hate fire so much. Hopefully if one does start nearby, we can get them on the trailers and to safety before they panic. Once it’s smoky, all bets are off.” If the animals’ vision and breathing were impaired from smoke, efficiently moving them became tricky, at best.

  “And do the ten visiting movie horses have their own trailers?” Angela released her and moved to the shiny stainless steel stove.

  Sam nodded. “They do. Our ranch hands know to follow the same emergency protocol with them too. For now.”

  Angela sighed. “That’s a relief.”

  “So, where’s Dad?” She leaned against the blessedly cool granite countertop. Her tone was casual, right?

  “Did you mean to ask is he down on set and what’s going to happen with the movie?” Angela raised her brows.

  Sam smiled sheepishly. “Exactly. So glad you understand me.”

  “Sit down and let me bring you a plate and we’ll discuss it.” Angela bustled around the stove and loaded up a stack of pancakes and a pile of crispy bacon.

  Sam sank into one of the seats in the breakfast nook and dumped half a pitcher of syrup on her plate, crunched a piece of perfectly crisp bacon, and began stuffing some fluffy pancake goodness into her mouth.

  Angela would speak at her own pace. Her stepmom joined her at the table, a turquoise blue ceramic coffee mug cradled in her capable hands.

  “Well, he is down on the set. He went to talk to Harry.” Angela held up one hand when Sam started to talk. “He hadn’t made his decision before he left.”

  “What do you think he’ll do? Doesn’t he think the risk is just too much? Seriously, none of us can go through what we endured in L.A. again. It was hell and the press is even more ruthless now because of social media.” Her belly clenched. “I won’t have a good night’s sleep until this is over.”

  “Oh sweetie, I know. And I know you aren’t sleeping for a variety of other reasons.” Angela’s warm dark eyes didn’t reveal her thoughts.

  “What do you mean?” She swallowed.

  “This whole situation with the paparazzi, what did you think I meant?” Angela raised a brow, but her gaze remained impassive.

  Sam stared at her stepmom. Hell, the woman could win the Texas Hold ’Em Poker tournament with her ability to appear neutral and unruffled.

  “Sam, believe me, I know. I may not have been there with you, but I was here when you all were recovering. I know how much it scarred you all.” Angela’s brow furrowed.

  “I’m not scarred.” She reared back. “I’m just cautious and don’t want to live through it all again. It’s
different.”

  “Sweetie, you all have scars. It’s natural after what happened. You just don’t want to allow the scars to prevent you from living your life. Living from a place of fear is no way to live.” Angela laid her cool hand on hers. “Your dad will do the right thing.”

  Sam dropped her fork onto her plate, her legendary appetite evaporated. “Do you really think I live my life out of fear? I don’t.”

  “You’re a brave, beautiful person, Samantha. You are an incredible success and we’re all so proud of you. I do think you keep people at arm’s length sometimes and I worry you might chase off happiness that way. Sometimes being vulnerable is being strong.” Angela smiled at her, her brown eyes warm.

  Her brows rose. “Keep the paparazzi at arms’ length? That makes no sense.” What was Angela implying?

  “Of course not the paparazzi. Nobody wants them here. Or anywhere. But we can’t live our lives controlled by their actions either. I meant Holt.”

  “Holt? What do you mean?” She cleared her throat and shifted in her seat.

  “I know you, sweetheart. I’ve seen you two together. He makes you laugh. He challenges you. And he’s certainly handsome.” Angela waggled her eyebrows.

  “What? I don’t know what you––” No smart comeback materialized.

  “Luckily everyone else was distracted at dinner at The Inn, but I sat across from you two and couldn’t miss the sparks flying.” Angela fanned one hand in front of her face.

  “Oh, you’re probably imagining it. You’re right. He just cracks me up sometimes. That must be what you mean.” Heat flooded into her cheeks. Thank god Angela hadn’t been able to see below the table. She hoped.

  “No, It’s not what I mean and you know it. I saw you sneaking into the house the other morning.” She paused and Sam bit back a retort. “You two are actually a lot alike. I like him for you. He sees the real Samantha. He’s a nice boy.”

  “A nice boy?” She choked. “Nice boy? He’s not a boy. But it doesn’t matter because he’s a drifter and he’s leaving.”

  “He’s not a drifter and I hope you didn’t call him that. Don’t be so judgmental. You’re better than that.” Angela’s brown eyes narrowed. “And who knows what the future holds? Would you have ever predicted we’d have a movie filming on the ranch?”

  “Never. And look how it’s turning out.” She rolled her eyes. “How do you know he isn’t a drifter? He flits from movie to movie, he has no idea about how important family is––it could never work between us.” Why did that make a pit form in her belly? Why did it matter?

  Angela’s large eyes widened. “He hasn’t told you about his family?”

  “His family?” How did Angela know anything about it?

  “What do you two talk about?” When Sam’s cheeks flamed again, Angela laughed. “Okay, don’t tell me. He has family back in Colorado and he’s very close with them.”

  “He did mention his mom and sister, and something about his dad leaving, but no details. When did he tell you about them?” He’d told Angela and hadn’t bothered to tell her?

  “When I showed him the guesthouse, we had a chance to talk. Sure, he has a crazy career now, but I got the impression he was working toward something and he’d be able to take care of his mom and sister and move them out to California.”

  “Huh.” He’d mentioned his mom, but made it sound like he never saw her. She’d assumed they weren’t particularly close.

  “Huh indeed. So don’t jump to conclusions. My gut tells me he’s a good man and I suspect yours did too or you wouldn’t have let him close to you.” Angela raised a brow.

  “Well…” She bit the inside of her cheek and stared down at her half-eaten breakfast.

  Angela rubbed her shoulder. “All I’m saying is don’t cut things off because you are afraid he’s going to leave you. You don’t know what’s going to happen next.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Umm…it may be a little late for that. My sweet, calm nature and all that. But what about the movie? If it ends now, it kind of makes it all a moot point.”

  “Did you get into an argument with him?”

  “Something like that.” She hunched down further into her seat. She’d been positively awful to him.

  “Well, you apologize if it is warranted. You and your dad have your quick fuse tempers. As for the movie––your dad is more excited than I’ve seen him in years. I never realized how much he missed the business. It was his passion, his life for so long.” Angela’s smile faded.

  “I know. I can see it too. We all loved it. I’ll even admit I feel the sparks too. I used to love being on set. But it just seems so risky.” Her dad was jazzed and she hated to see his joy be yanked away from him. Again.

  “Well, Harry could enforce the contract and it could get messy if your father breaks it. Maybe the wisest thing is to wait and see if anything pops up from the photographer. For now, they are here, they are filming, and maybe it will all just go away.” Angela shrugged, but her somber expression belied the confidence in her tone.

  “Maybe. That’s what Holt said too.” She smoothed back the loose strands of hair tickling her forehead. “Well, I’ll wait and see what dad says. For now, I’m going to head to the office and try to finish up some more of the never-ending paperwork.”

  “Aren’t you going to finish your breakfast?” Angela’s mouth dropped open. Sam left food on her plate––exactly never.

  “Nah, I’m full. But thanks for the breakfast and the talk. You’re the best.” She forced a smile, but her chest ached as she left the kitchen.

  Despite wanting to run outside and scream, Sam forced herself to walk to the office in the other wing of the house. So Holt was close to his mother and sister. And what exactly had happened with his dad? Her sharp words echoed in her mind and she cringed. Damn it. He made such a good show of being Mr. Casual.

  Why the hell wouldn’t he bring it up? Lord knows she’d cried in front of him at the pool. He knew everything about her family and what, was she just supposed to be a mind reader? How could she when he didn’t bother to tell her anything?

  She halted in the office doorway. Had she ever bothered to ask for any details? It wasn’t like they had been on the classic dating path where you asked about family on date number two or anything. But still. Denial was a beautiful thing.

  She closed her eyes and sighed. She would indeed have to suck it up and apologize to him for her nasty tirade. Ugh. She hated apologies.

  Later. For now, the thrilling world of vaccination protocol reports called. She had to ensure each and every one was not only billed in the system, but also make sure the horses were scheduled for their next set of vaccines. The sooner she started them, the sooner she could escape the dreaded computer. And go find Holt to apologize.

  She’d just plopped into the comfortable leather desk chair and powered on the desktop when her dad strode into the office. He approached and gave her a quick hug.

  “So?” She gripped her hands together and held her breath.

  “You ready to discuss this?” His hazel eyes were bright and he smiled at her.

  “Sure.” Her stomach tightened and her shoulders tensed.

  He dropped into the chair opposite the desk and crossed one denim-clad ankle over his other knee. “Okay. First, Harry made some calls. He made it clear to the press there would be serious repercussions if a story broke.”

  “And do you think he can control it?” She gave a quick nod, but she doubted anybody could control all of those money-hungry, amoral parasites.

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. “Who knows? He’s really influential and most people know it’s better to stay on his good side. I’m sure there are some unscrupulous people out there who just want to make a buck and cause trouble. Like we know.” The grooves around his mouth deepened.

  “Okay. So what did you decide? Is it worth it to you, Dad? Aren’t you worried for the repercussions?” Her breath lodged in her throat.

  He leaned
forward. “Well, I want to film the movie. I love it. I’m sorry, Sammy.”

  They looked at each other for a few moments. Sam released a shaky breath.

  “Don’t apologize, Dad. I know you are passionate about the horses too, but I think I’m finally realizing how much you gave up to provide a different life for Amanda, Dylan, and me. I guess I never really thought about it too much.” She shrugged. More like never thought about how tough it must have been for him to end his career.

  “Why would you? You were fifteen years old. I wanted to get away from L.A., from all of it.” He gripped his thighs. “I do love our life here, don’t get me wrong. This is home and nothing will change it. But maybe I took it all too far. Maybe isolating us here made us hold onto the pain instead of processing it. I don’t know.”

  Sam swallowed the fear creeping up from her heart. Was Holt right about her living in a bubble? Of being scared of the outside world? “I don’t know either. But what if the media brings up mom’s story again? Throws all the ugliness in our face?”

  He surged to his feet. “Damn the media. I refuse to live my life in fear of someone possibly bringing up the past. It is the past. It’s our tragic past and your mom deserves to rest in peace and we all deserve to live our lives however we want.”

  “And you deserve to direct a movie if you want.” Pain, sadness, and anger flitted across her beloved father’s face. He had lost the most. His wife. The mother of his children. His long-time career. Their entire family had been forever altered by the freak accident that cut Pamela McNeill’s life tragically short.

  “Damn them. If a story breaks, a story breaks. We’ll be fine. If one more camera or reporter comes within a mile of our ranch, believe me there will be consequences.” Her father’s jaw clenched.

  “Okay. Okay. Should we tell Dylan all this is happening or allow her to remain in ignorant bliss in Paris?” Worry tickled the back of her neck. Dylan would be hysterical.

  “There’s no need to upset her or anyone until if or when something actually happens. And if worst-case scenario, something does happen, we’ll deal with it then. Not put our lives on hold anymore.” Her dad walked over and pulled her up out of the chair into his familiar, powerful bear hug.