Why not join them for basketball?
“I’d love to. I have to take my groceries home but by the time I get back the two of you should be finished with your lunch.”
“Awesome,” Parker raised a hand for a fist bump and she obliged as she looked over his head at Remington.
“Day one,” Remington said.
Sam narrowed her eyes, unsure. Then it dawned on her. His twenty-one-day challenge. He thought this was step one in making him a habit.
“It’s a game of basketball, Rem.”
“Yes, just a game of basketball,” he agreed. “See you in a little while.”
After he and Parker went inside Duke’s, Oregon cleared her throat. “Day one?”
“Oh, it’s nothing, just a challenge. I hadn’t planned on taking it, but I might,” she answered her sister-in-law but her mind drifted to what it would take to make Remington a habit she couldn’t let go of.
She worried it might take less than twenty-one days. Which meant she needed to guard her heart a little more carefully.
* * *
Day one. Remington watched as Samantha made her way down the sidewalk past the Martin’s Crossing Community Church toward the town park. It wasn’t much of a park. Just a large lawn and a few flowers. There was a swing set, a teeter-totter and a merry-go-round. But there was also a small basketball court. On one end was a basketball net at standard height. The other end had a lowered net for children.
Parker was at what would have been about the free-throw line, taking aim at that basket. He missed, but not by much. The ball hit the backboard and bounced back. He turned and went after it. Out of the corner of his eye, Remington watched as Sam approached, cautiously, as if she might change her mind at the last second.
He wasn’t going to let her change her mind.
“Hey, Parker, look who joined us. I say we play a game. Me against the two of you.” Remington shot her a knowing smile.
She narrowed her eyes at him but returned the gesture in a way that appeared more like a challenge. “That sounds like a good plan to me. Parker, what do you think?”
“We’ll beat you,” Parker boasted. He had the ball and he passed it to Samantha. “Girls first.”
She caught the ball, spun and took off. Remington went after her, faking to the right and then circling to try to take the ball. She passed to Parker and the kid did a worthy job of dribbling from the side of his chair. The ball hit the wheel and rolled. Samantha grabbed it and gave it a gentle pass to the boy. Parker went in for another shot. This time he made the basket.
Remington cheered and Sam gave the kid a high five, mussing his hair the way he hated. “That’s two-zip,” Parker announced with a big grin. “You’re going down, loser.”
Remington laughed. “Not so fast. I’ve got moves you haven’t seen.”
Samantha went after the ball, stealing it from him when her nearness made him lose focus for a moment. She smelled good. He wanted to lean in and breathe deep of the outdoors and the fresh scent she wore.
She held the ball as he moved in close to steal it.
She tossed the ball to Parker and gave Remington a light push to get him out of her space but her hands lingered on his shoulders. When their eyes met, he wondered if she felt it the way he did, that connection, as if everything in the past had brought them to this place, together. But no, she didn’t. She was fighting too hard to not feel it. But as her hands moved away he saw a flash in her blue eyes, something that indicated she did feel something for him, and denying it wouldn’t make it go away.
“Hey, that’s a foul.” Parker wheeled around next to them, nine years old and totally unaware.
“Yes, a foul. On your team.” Remington grinned at the woman just a head shorter than his six feet. She backed away from him, taking a sharp breath and putting distance between them.
“Totally foul,” she agreed.
Parker tossed Remington the ball. “Free throw line.”
Remington doubted they were playing basketball by the real rules, but he took the ball and made the shot. Sam grabbed the ball and tossed it to Parker.
“Will you come back to church Sunday?” Remington asked Sam as she moved in place to block him.
She looked surprised by the question. “I hadn’t planned on it. I work Sunday nights and...” She shrugged.
“You’re not ready?”
“No, I’m not ready. Not for church, or for this.” She stepped away from Parker. “It’s not easy, Rem. I definitely can’t walk into church being the person you want me to be.”
He took a quick glance at Parker. The kid had taken himself off to throw practice shots. “And what is it I expect of you?”
“You’re the preacher. You have a role to fill. You need a woman who can stand next to you and fit.”
He stepped close. “You fit perfectly.”
“Not what I meant.”
He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her close, mindful that Parker was watching. “See how perfectly you fit?”
She pushed him back, laughing. “Stop.”
He bent close to her lips. “I could go on.”
“Gross.” Parker made a gagging noise like a typical nine-year-old, which meant he’d lost interest in practicing.
“Not too gross, my friend.” Remington leaned in and gave her a chaste kiss. He had to back away or he wouldn’t be able to think.
“Not gross,” Samantha conceded. “But I meant it, Rem. I don’t play the piano. I can’t bake a casserole.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You need a woman who can do those things. I think it’s in the handbook somewhere about pastor’s wives.”
“You’re going to be my wife?” He smiled. “This twenty-one-day challenge is working out better than I expected.”
She rolled her eyes and huffed her outrage, which didn’t sound as outraged as she’d intended. “No, I’m not going to be your wife. I’m telling you that you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“Because I’m so perfect, I walk on water?”
“Rem, stop. We both know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He studied her face, the flush of her cheeks bringing out the blue in her eyes. “But your faith isn’t completely gone.”
“No, it isn’t. I’m realizing it isn’t my faith I lost. At least not my faith in God. More like I lost faith in people.”
“That’s understandable. But there are a lot of people in this world and not all of them believe sitting in a church pew is the same as sitting in a courtroom on the jury.”
Parker had left them alone again. Remington watched the boy trying to make a shot on the higher net. He admired that he had no quit in him. Remington guessed he was taking a page from Parker’s book. He wasn’t going to quit.
“Come to church. Twenty-one days, remember?”
Samantha glanced away from him. A few strands of blond hair had come loose and the breeze whipped them across her cheek.
“Sam?” he spoke softly, gaining her attention.
“Maybe.” She gave him a careful look, blue eyes veiled, hiding whatever she felt. “I should go.”
“Stay a little longer. I promise to give you a break.”
“Really? What if I tell you, you get no breaks from our team?” She jogged to Parker’s side. The boy tossed her the basketball and she dunked it before giving it back to him.
Parker wheeled himself to the other end of the court, back to Remington’s side. The game was on. The boy had a determined set to his mouth and his eyes narrowed in on the basket.
Remington moved in to take the ball but Parker caught it up and put distance between them. Life wasn’t perfect. It had its challenges, but this was victory. Parker smiling, having a good time, made everything worthwhile.
That thought felt a little dangerous when he considered her declaration that she couldn’t be who he needed her to be. He wanted Sam, the person she used to be. He didn’t know if she still existed or if life had buried her beneath the rubble of heartache and loss.
But he was willing to find out.
Chapter Twelve
Dust kicked up from the arena as the second participant in the junior event rounded the barrels Saturday evening. Samantha stood outside the fence and watched the girl lean over the neck of her horse, urging the big paint toward the exit and the finish line. She held tight to the fence, yelling when the girl yelled. It couldn’t be helped. She loved this sport. The exhilaration of it made her heart pound and her breath catch. Fifteen to twenty seconds of sheer adrenaline rush.
After that ride she went looking for Lilly. She walked behind the stands, saying hello to neighbors and to people she no longer knew. She’d been gone so long. Everyone had changed. She’d changed most of all.
Almost to the trailers, she heard someone call her name. She looked around and saw Jake’s wife, Breezy, as she hurried to catch up. The twins weren’t with her, but baby Irene was strapped to her front in a little pink pouch. The sight brought a lurch to her heart.
It reminded her of what she’d lost.
But the loss was getting easier to deal with. It had been getting easier for a while now; she just hadn’t realized it until lately. The ache, the empty space in her heart where her daughter should have been, would always be there. But she thought it was filling up a little.
She’d done something for a family that they couldn’t do for themselves. She’d answered their prayers for a child. It was hard to comprehend it, that her pain turned into their blessing. But she was trying.
She was finding herself again. After years of avoiding her home, her brothers and her faith, she was finding her way back.
“Hi, Breezy,” she greeted her sister-in-law. Tall, elegant Breezy with her open smile and easy laugh. When Samantha tried to play the victim card, she thought of her sister-in-law abducted away from her siblings and living homeless for much of her life.
“Hey, Jake said to find you and see if you want your horse saddled.”
Her brothers, always trying to take care of everything. “I’m heading that way now. But first I wanted to check on Lilly. I would miss my own ride before I’d miss hers. She’s so excited.”
“She’s overwhelmed,” Breezy acknowledged as she leaned to kiss Irene’s dark, curly hair. “She has you here. That’s everything to her. Oregon said she’s talked nonstop all day.”
Samantha could picture that. “She’s something else. I’m blessed by all of these pretty nieces. And now a nephew or two to add to the package.”
Breezy gave her a careful look but kept quiet. The two of them walked together to the Circle M trailer. Jake had recently bought the four-horse trailer with living quarters. Duke had brought a second trailer for his horse and Lilly’s.
Her brother Brody was busy working over the hooves of one horse, cleaning out a stone that had gotten lodged. He had the horse’s hoof raised, a pick poised when the animal moved, bumping against him. He tightened his grip on the foreleg and held it firmly as he leaned into the horse’s shoulder.
“Hold on,” he growled.
“Want help?” Samantha offered as she walked up, reaching for the horse’s bridle.
“I’ve got him. He’s Duke’s new animal and he doesn’t have any manners.”
“You should tell him you’re ten years away from knee replacement and he might be more respectful.”
“Ha, ha, funny.” He picked out a small stone and let the horse’s leg down.
“I try.” Samantha ran a hand down the horse’s face. “He’s got mean eyes.”
“He’s okay.” Brody patted the gelding’s neck. “Where’s your horse?”
“In the trailer. I’m going to get him out in a minute. Where’s your wife?”
“Grace is at home with a sick baby.” He stepped away from the trailer he’d been leaning against.
“Anything I can do? If she needs a break, I’m here.”
“I’ll let her know.”
“Okay. Well, I’m going to find Lilly and make sure she’s doing okay.” Samantha started to walk away and Brody walked alongside her. “Is there something else?”
“I wanted to remind you that Grace and I are going to Dallas.” To see their mother. He didn’t have to tell her that; she knew.
“You’ve asked before,” she reminded.
“I know that. I’m going to keep offering.” He shifted, pushing his hat back, narrowing his deep blue gaze on her. He was closest to her in age. Like her, he had few memories of their mother. The day their mother drove off into the sunset she’d beaten him, leaving him battered and bruised. He’d been little at the time, a preschooler, and he’d blocked the memory for the longest time.
“I’ll go when I’m ready.”
“Sammy,” he started.
Anything he planned to say was cut off when someone walked up behind her. “Give her a break.
“Brody, she said she doesn’t want to go.” Remington stepped next to Samantha, offering her a good-natured wink as his shoulder bumped hers.
“Stay out of this, Rem.” Brody kept walking. His lean jaw was set, unsmiling, and he didn’t give. “This is important.”
“Yeah, it is. But Sam will go when she’s ready.”
“I’m a grown woman. I don’t need a brother pushing me to do something I don’t want to do. I might never want to do it.” She turned to Remington. “I don’t need you interfering, either.”
“I’m just trying to help,” he said, tugging his hat down just a smidge so that he looked cute, making it hard for Sam to stay angry with him. “I’m being ‘here for you.’”
Brody had the nerve to laugh. “I think my job here is done.”
He strolled away, leaving her with Remington. They stood there, facing each other, the rodeo arena behind them, the people in the stands just a vague hum of activity in the distance. It all faded and it was just the two of them.
“I don’t need your help with my brother,” she repeated.
“I know you don’t. But I’m here and I’m going to push my way into your life. I’m going to be here for you.” He touched his fingers to hers. “You might as well let me in.”
Let him in. Temptation came in the form of a too-handsome-for-words cowboy with scruffy whiskers covering his suntanned cheeks and gray eyes that twinkled with amusement. And something else. The temptation wasn’t even the kind that would send her to the altar on Sunday morning. It made her want to give them another chance.
And that frightened her. Because letting him in meant taking the chance she might lose him again.
If she lost anyone else, she wasn’t sure she could handle it.
“It’s day three,” he teased.
“Two,” she countered. “You’re not a habit yet.”
“No, but I’m not giving up. They just called the juniors division. You don’t want to miss Lilly.”
“No, I don’t.”
His hand closed around hers and he led her to the arena to watch as another barrel racer crossed the finish line. Lilly was up next. Samantha could see her readying her horse behind the gate. Duke was with her, as he should be. Samantha saw Lilly look her way. She waved to let her know she was there, watching.
Her heart hesitated when the gate opened and Lilly’s horse rushed out. The girl leaned, the horse stretched out, his neck long, his stride perfect. They took the first barrel a little wide. Samantha clenched her jaw, holding tight to the rail.
“Take a breath—she’s fine.” Remington leaned close, his shoulder against hers. When she
took a breath she smelled him, the fresh scent of soap, shampoo and leather.
“Of course she’s fine,” Samantha agreed. And Lilly was fine. She took the second barrel, close but not too close. She rounded the third barrel with ease and hit the home stretch, her horse giving her everything he had.
When she crossed the finish line, the announcer’s voice on a sketchy PA system told the crowd that they had a new leader. And since she was the last rider in the junior division, Lilly was the winner.
Samantha let out a whoop as her niece rode back into the arena for her trophy. Strong arms grabbed Samantha up and twirled her around. She looked down into the face of the cowboy who held her tight, lifting her feet off the ground. His gray eyes sparkled and the look he gave made her giddy on the inside.
As he set her feet back on the ground, she stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. But then she quickly made excuses about saddling her horse and walked away. Because he was too much. Being near him was too much.
* * *
Remington let her walk away, but he wasn’t going to let her go for good. Not this time. Ten years ago he’d loved her the way seventeen-year-old boys loved. He hadn’t been thoughtful. He hadn’t really been respectful. Now that he thought about it, he’d let her down on so many levels, it was a wonder she still talked to him.
He wanted to make up for that. He wanted to be there for her. Not just today. No, he wanted to be there for her every day, whether it was a good day or bad.
With that in mind, he headed back to the trailer where he’d left his horse. The big paint whickered a greeting. Remington leaned to buckle up his chaps, pulled on his gloves and pushed his hat down a little tighter. When he backed his horse out of the trailer, the big gelding raised his black-and-white painted head and looked around. Splash was a little wild-eyed most of the time. But at a rodeo he was dependable and never had a bad day. As wired as he seemed, he knew how to settle when someone was in the saddle.
“Nice horse, Jenkins.”
Remington reached into the trailer for his saddle before he returned Brody Martin’s greeting. He eased the saddle pad on his horse’s back, and then followed with the saddle.
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