The Diva Diaries

by Karen Anders

  Jenna saw something in Sam she hadn’t seen before. It was a quiet glow of satisfaction. She saw something else, too. A shadow of sadness streaked across his eyes very briefly before he looked down.

  “Circuit?” Jenna echoed. “Rodeo?”

  “Calf-roping competitions,” Mike said. “What do you have here, Sam? A greenhorn?”

  “She does all right for a greenhorn. Sorry, this is Jenna Sinclair.”

  “Ah, the fiddler. Heard she was staying with you.”

  “I’m ignorant of roping competitions and horse breeding, I’m afraid. I hope you won’t hold that against me.”

  “Naw,” he said, shaking her hand. “To each their own, I always say. Besides, I heard you play a mean piece on your instrument.”

  “Perhaps you’d like to attend my concert tomorrow night. The proceeds go to charity.”

  “It’s a good cause. We’ll be there.”

  Mike and Sam talked for a few more minutes about when he would come to the ranch and scope out a barrel racer for his daughter, then he left. Sam and Jenna climbed into the truck and were once again on their way back to the ranch.

  “Sam…”

  His shoulders tensed and he turned to look at her, sadness returning to his eyes.

  “Hmm?”

  “Your father wasn’t too keen on you raising horses, was he?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My dad was not capable of helping me with the horses and said it was too much for him. The cattle were enough.”

  “That’s why you left at eighteen?”

  “Yes. I was angry and frustrated. Beef prices weren’t as good as they had been in the past. I argued that we needed to diversify, but my father was a true rancher and man of the land.”

  “You said you came back because of your dad’s health. It was more than his heart.”

  “It was more,” he said, taking a deep breath and letting it out. “My father had a drinking problem. He had a lot of tragedy in his life. My older brother was stillborn and my mother died shortly after I was born. He never got over their deaths.”

  “And you got lost somewhere along the way?”

  “Sort of. Tooter picked up the slack that my father’s drinking caused.”

  “He’s the one who taught you everything you know.”

  “He was like a father to me.”

  “He saved the ranch?”

  “He saved my inheritance and my father’s pride. He covered for my father, sobered him up and made sure he ate. Tooter worked hard. He believed in the breeding program and helped me every step of the way.”

  “Just like my gran nurtured and supported me.” She thought about the connection before continuing.

  “I guess Jigsaw had something to do with building your reputation, as well,” Jenna asked, wanting to understand how the horse played an important role in Sam’s life.

  “The first time I saw that horse, I knew. He wasn’t much to look at, but I could see he had heart. He was championship material. I took a chance on him and he didn’t let me down.”

  Jenna’s heart twisted in her chest. Sam would be relentless if he truly believed in something. It was no wonder he had made a success out of the Wildcatter, while his dad just eked out a living.

  “Jigsaw’s Pride was the first foal. I almost broke down and cried when she was born. I could see my future in her soft brown eyes. She’s never let me down, either.”

  Jenna reached over and slid her hand against the skin of Sam’s neck, needing the contact.

  When they pulled up to the ranch, Tooter was standing on the front porch. As soon as Sam turned the ignition off on the truck, Tooter was at his window. Sam opened the door and stepped outside. Jenna came around the front of the truck and caught the tail end of Tooter’s words.

  “…been acting funny all day. I tried your cell, but you didn’t answer.”

  “I was at the feed store.” Sam was already heading for the foaling barn at a brisk walk, with Tooter running to catch up. It was obvious to Jenna that the horse requiring attention must be very important to Sam.

  “I hope it’s okay,” Jenna called after him.

  He stopped and turned. “Thanks,” he said, and resumed his quick pace to the barn.

  Jenna entered the house and stood for a moment in the foyer. Her stomach grumbled for lunch, but she ignored it and looked down the hall that would lead her to Sam’s office and the diary.

  She’d neglected her mission, pure and simple. She’d gotten caught up in Sam’s blue eyes and his strong, clever hands. She was thinking dangerous thoughts about permanence and stability. Her life wasn’t about that. It was about keeping up the pace and about freedom. It was about never letting anyone close enough, so that she’d never be in a position to have to make a choice.

  One minute she was standing in the foyer and the next she was racing to the office. She had to find the diary. She had to. But when she got there, she pulled up short. Cal was at a filing cabinet with papers in his hands.

  He turned to look at her as she stood breathless in the doorway.

  “Did you need something, ma’am?” he asked.

  “No. I’m sorry to bother you.” She walked briskly away and emerged near the dining room. She quickly made her way to the living room and then the stairs. Maria was coming out of Sam’s room with an armload of wash.

  “Oh, you and Sam are home. Can I get you some lunch?” she asked as Jenna climbed the stairs.

  “Sure. I’m not sure when Sam can eat. He’s in the barn. I think it might be Jigsaw’s Pride.”

  “Is there trouble?” Maria looked alarmed and moved over to the laundry basket near the top of the stairs and dropped the clothes in.

  “I’m not sure, but Sam was concerned. That mare is important to him.”

  Maria nodded as she walked down the stairs and Jenna followed. “They’re all important to him, but Jigsaw’s Pride is special.”

  Jenna followed Maria into the kitchen. Maria got the bread out of the bread box and walked over to the refrigerator. “So is Jigsaw—he’s a world-class cutter. Sam doesn’t have the time to compete, so my older boy Matthew does that for him.”

  “How did Sam get Jigsaw?”

  “That’s a sad story. Sam was driving over to town when he passed some rancher who was beating Jigsaw badly. Sam stopped him. He offered to buy the horse on the spot, even called Tooter to get a trailer over there so that they could take him right away.

  “He was pitiful at first, malnourished and mean. Sam worked with that horse every day until he trusted Sam. He gentled that horse with sheer willpower. Sam’s not one to give up easily.”

  “Sam told me he left because his father wasn’t interested in the horse business.”

  “It’s not a secret. Everyone on this ranch heard them arguing about it.”

  “Did you know him back then, Maria?”

  Maria smiled, her eyes softening. “I’ve been cleaning and cooking for this ranch since I was eighteen. Met Red here. The Winchester men have been very good to us.”

  “You must have known about Sam’s father.”

  “That boy had a tough childhood, but Tooter was there. Sam was a sweet little boy, a solid teenager, and a fine man. You’ll find no finer. He was frustrated with his daddy. That’s all. Maybe wanted to prove something to himself. All I know is that the moment his daddy got sick, he was back here every weekend when he wasn’t on Ranger duty.”

  “He’s lucky to have you and Tooter.”

  “We’re lucky to have the chance to work for such a fine family.”

  Pure emotion filled her chest. It hurt to think about how different their childhoods had been. Hers had been graced with music and a close, loving relationship with her grandparents. Tempered with firm discipline and strict rules. All that she wanted was attainable. All she had to do was reach for it. Even fame.

  Sam, on the other hand, had had to create his own stability, though the struggle had built his strong,
unfailing character.

  Maria finished with the sandwiches. She put a serving of potato salad and a pickle on each plate.

  “I’ll let Sam know that lunch is ready.”

  “Let me.”

  Jenna went out the back door and headed for the foaling barn. When she entered, she saw Tooter and Red standing next to a box stall. As she approached she could see Sam inside with a beautiful black mare, her stomach heavy with her young.

  Sam was smoothing his big hands along her stomach and Jenna couldn’t stop the memories of those hands moving over her body.

  “How is she?” she asked.

  All three men looked at her. Red smiled and made room for her at the stall door. Tooter scowled his usual scowl, but also made room for her.

  Sam came to her, a smile on his face. “Looks like she’s doing fine. Tooter’s fussier than an ol’ hen.”

  Tooter snorted and Red laughed.

  “She’ll probably drop late tonight,” Sam said.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “Mr. Winchester?”

  Sam leaned over the stall door and called. “Over here, Cal.”

  Red’s youngest son smiled at his dad as he walked over to the stall. “There’s a Mr. Sawyer here to see you.”

  “That was today?” Sam said, taking off his hat and wiping at the sweat on his brow. “Shoot. Tell him I’ll be right out.”

  “Red, go get Jigsaw’s Little Challenge.”

  “Ah, Tooter, Sam don’t need to work that horse for Sawyer to know he’s getting a prime piece of horseflesh.”

  “I know that. I just like to show him off. Go get him.”

  Sam laughed as Red went out shaking his head, Tooter right alongside him. Jenna smiled at the flashing grins and natural swaggers of the two men. Sam came out of the stall and closed the door.

  When they left the foaling barn, a man was walking up to them, led by Cal. He reached out his hand and shook Sam’s with enthusiasm. “Now, before you get to thinking that your dates are off, I’m a week early. I’d like to start working him for a roping competition next month. I hope that’s fine with you.”

  “No problem, Ty. Just head over to the corral and I’ll be right there. Red’s bringing Challenge.”

  He turned to Jenna. “I have to go up to the house to change my boots.”

  She nodded. “You going to use your new roping spurs?”

  He smiled. “Yep. Why don’t you head over to the corral, too?” He brushed the back of his hand across her cheek. “You’re getting all that pale skin tanned. Looks good on you.” He smiled and winked, walking away.

  Jenna didn’t realize, until he had disappeared into the house, that she had watched his progress until he was out of sight. She couldn’t take her eyes from the fit of his jeans across his tight, well-formed butt, the movement of his thigh muscles, the easy roll of his hips. She turned away, more than a little shaken by the longing that surged inside her.

  She went to the corral fence and stood next to two cowhands who had discovered Sam was going to work the horse.

  “You ever seen a roping horse in action?”

  Startled, Jenna turned to find Tooter standing beside her. He was staring off into the distance.

  “No. I don’t know a thing about roping or the rodeo. Total greenhorn.”

  “First off, the calf gets a running head start—up to twenty feet. The rope horse has to overtake him. The cowboy has two throws to snag the calf. Once the rope’s on him, the rope horse will pull up sharply and tauten the rope. Pulls the critter off his feet so the cowboy can use his pigging string to tie three legs together. Success in roping depends on teamwork between a cowboy and his horse. A little luck don’t hurt none, either.”

  “What’s a pigging string?”

  “Short piece of rope.”

  “Does Sam provide any other stock to the rodeo?”

  “No. Only trained horses—ropers, racers and cutters. But Sam has always liked the drama of roping. Most exciting to watch if you ask me.”

  When Sam showed up at the corral, he was wearing spurs, the jingle setting off firecrackers inside her.

  “Mr. Sawyer said he was here early. What did he mean by that?”

  “A foal is put through his paces from birth. Can’t take the saddle until he’s three years old, due to soft bones. Sam’s particular about Jigsaw’s get. No one trains that stallion’s offspring until Sam says so. Challenge is a four-year-old. He’s ready to go now, but Sawyer contracted for the end of May,” Tooter said.

  “Will Sam have a hard time parting with him?” Jenna asked.

  Tooter nodded.

  Red had taken the horse into one of the big, long corrals. The man with him proceeded to unhook the gate and wait for Sam. Jenna picked a good spot at the fence so she wouldn’t miss any of the action.

  A bawling calf was led to the corral, brought to the farthest fence, then tied.

  Sam walked up to the magnificent horse that waited quietly on the lead. He was a gorgeous golden-brown with a milk-chocolate-colored tail, mane and legs, small and well proportioned, with well-developed hindquarters and an elegant head.

  As Sam swung into the saddle, the buckskin’s ears came forward, his neck arched and he tracked the calf with his liquid brown eyes.

  Sam put the pigging string between his teeth and picked up the rope looped around the saddle. Jenna could see that the end of the rope was tied around the saddle horn. Sam let out the coil. His big body was tense and alert, his eyes forward and the hat on his head pulled low. He nodded to the man with the calf. As soon as the animal was free from the rope, it ran.

  When the calf was about twenty feet from the horse, the buckskin leaped from a standstill to a full-out gallop. His big hindquarters ate up the ground easily, gaining on the calf. Sam’s heavily muscled thighs gripped the sides of the horse, the rope up over his head, spinning in what looked like an effortless action.

  She was awed by his easy command. The way man and horse worked as one, each seeming to know without cues or sound what the other expected. They were fluid action, power, intelligence.

  Sam threw the rope with a quick flick of his wrist and Jenna’s breath caught at the beauty of perfect harmony. The rope dropped over the calf’s neck and immediately, in a blur of motion, Sam dismounted on the gallop, as the horse braked to a spectacular stop. The rope drew taut and the calf was pulled from his feet. In moments, Sam had three of his legs tied. He walked back to the horse, who never once let the rope go slack, and mounted. As soon as Sam was in the saddle, the horse took a step forward. The calf was still tied.

  Everything must have happened in about eight to ten seconds from start to finish.

  And it struck Jenna hard to the heart that more than anything—more than the townspeople, more than the chores, more than even the bucking bronc—this was the essence of who Sam was, and how closely he identified who he was with what he did. He didn’t live as a cowboy. He was a cowboy.

  It was a revelation and made her realize that she wouldn’t be the woman for him. He needed someone who understood this lifestyle and could help him, support him, be part of it. A woman born of the West, brought up on a ranch, knew the terms and how to do what was necessary.

  Shaken, Jenna couldn’t take her eyes from him as he sat on the horse watching one of the cowhands untie the prone calf and set him free. She tried to breathe around the tightness in her chest. She understood why the cowboy was such a powerful sexual symbol. He was simply too potent. Too overwhelmingly male.

  Sawyer moved down the corral fence as Sam dismounted and led the horse.

  “Yehaw,” the visitor crowed. “That’s a Jigsaw get all right.”

  “Do you always buy from Sam?” Jenna asked, her attention on Sam as he slid his hand over the buckskin in quiet praise.

  “I wouldn’t trust my horseflesh to anyone else. The man’s a genius with anything on four legs.”

  Sam relinquished the buckskin to Red with a nod. Jenna could see the sweat beaded on Sam’s
brow as he removed his sweat-stained hat and wiped at his forehead.

  Sam didn’t use the gate but climbed the corral fence and landed next to Jenna and Ty. Tooter had disappeared.

  She retreated as Ty and Sam began to talk about competitions and horseflesh. Retreated to the house, first stopping in the kitchen to collect her lunch, then on to her room, where she deliberately changed back into the clothes she’d brought with her. She knew where she belonged and it was most definitely not here and not with this man. The realization that she had the power to bring Sam to his knees shivered through her. Tempted, so tempted to use it to bind him to her, but what would that mean for him? In time, she was sure she could talk him into selling the ranch, leaving Savannah. She was that sure about her power over him. It was something her mother wouldn’t hesitate to do.

  For Jenna it would be the ultimate evil. Jenna swore vehemently to herself.

  She was absolutely nothing like her mother.

  She would never, never destroy Sam like that.

  Never.

  He was better off without her and any influence she had over him.

  She picked up her violin and began to practice.

  Jenna hadn’t expected to fall in love with this kind of lifestyle. She hadn’t expected to fall in love with the town of Savannah. There was a closeness that tugged at her heart, a warm, easy feeling that Jenna wanted to capture and hold in her heart. It was like drinking tea with her gran, walking in the moonlight with her gramps and having him name the stars for her. It was like home.

  The more time she spent at the Wildcatter the less she wanted to leave.

  But leave she must.

  12

  A KNOCK ON THE DOOR hours later made Jenna drop her bow from the strings of the gleaming violin.

  “Come in.”

  Sam poked his head around the door. He was grimy and looked tired. “Sorry to disrupt you, but you wanted to check out the honky-tonk tonight. Still up for it?”