His astonished expression gave way to a shout of laughter, and he climbed to his feet to reach for her.
A man in an impeccable white shirt and navy trousers intercepted their embrace. The paramedics had arrived.
“Ms. Kramer, come on over here and let us check you out.”
She shot Sam a look of frustration, but he didn’t notice.
“Marly,” Carter’s rough voice said in her ear, “they want to know if you’re going to ride along with Chris.”
“Yes, of course. I just need to get my purse.”
Jerome stepped forward and handed it to her. “Emma told me to bring it. Is Chris gonna be okay?”
“I hope so, sweetie.” She ignored the waiting paramedic and gave the boy a hug.
“You need to look at Sam’s hands,” she told the paramedic as she rose. The frayed rope near her feet told the story. When it started to go, only Sam had kept her from falling.
Sam met her eyes. She strode forward, wanting nothing more than to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him senseless. Mindful of the children and the others clustered around, she didn’t give in to her wants, but she saw an answering hunger for just a moment in the heat that blazed from his eyes.
“Hey, now,” he whispered. “You okay?”
“Thanks to you.”
“And Carter and Jake and Keefer and—”
She stepped forward then, and brushed her lips across his dusty cheek. Her lips didn’t linger, but the hoots and catcalls of the watching children brought color to her own cheeks and fired the heat of his look. He made no move to touch her.
“Thanks, Sam.” She turned to Carter then, shaken by emotions she couldn’t have named. “You’ll need to wait here for Porterfield. Then I’d appreciate it if you’d bring him along to the hospital.”
There was a dark look of anger on Carter’s face. “Okay.”
Marly climbed into the back of the ambulance without assistance. She watched Sam watching her until they were out of sight.
SAM WASHED his hands again, wincing as the soap bit into the rope burns and small cuts. If he’d thought he ached yesterday, after that little bit of riding and posthole-digging, he should have waited. His shoulders burned with the strain of pulling Marly and Chris out of the pit. Not that the others hadn’t helped. Every one of the men had pulled his weight, literally. They were a good crew.
He swallowed two more antihistamines and pulled on his last pair of clean jeans. He was going to have to do some laundry or get into town to buy more clothes. He thought about the slim contents of his wallet and knew he’d have to wash the clothes, even if it meant putting them in the bathroom sink.
He opened the door to his room and paused. Voices wafted up the stairs. Familiar voices. Bill Porterfield had arrived. Sam tossed the clothing on the bed and strained to hear what was being said. The voices stopped, and heavy feet started coming up the stairs. He shut the door, slipped his gun from his boot and stepped into the bathroom.
Porterfield wore glasses, so Sam turned on the hot water in the shower and waited. He heard the tap on his bedroom door, and Carter Delancy’s voice called out. Carter didn’t wear glasses, but Sam wasn’t worried about being seen by him.
“Out in a minute!” he shouted. He waited, gun in hand, for the bathroom knob to turn. It didn’t.
“I’m going into town to get Marly,” Carter yelled. “Keep the kids out of trouble until I get back. Emma’ll watch them until you’re done.”
“I’ll be right out,” he promised. As soon as they were gone.
He waited another three minutes before he turned off the shower and opened the door. One of the windows in his room overlooked the front of the house. Careful to stay out of direct line of sight, Sam approached and peered outside. Bill Porterfield’s substantial girth was unmistakable as he fit himself behind the wheel of his familiar green sedan. Carter drove Marly’s truck. Sam waited until they both pulled out of the yard before he descended the staircase.
He was almost instantly surrounded by small bodies. “Sam, can we go riding now? Emma said we had to wait for you.”
“Yeah, Sam, there’s nothing to do.”
Emma was watching from the shadows at the end of the hall. With Chris gone, he had planned to disappear as soon as Porterfield left, but seeing the five hopeful expressions, he groaned inwardly. It might be better after all to stay and work with the boys for a while first. Maybe he could still find a way to get to Chris.
Sam could be pretty sure Bill and Carter wouldn’t be coming back from the hospital for at least a couple of hours. In fact, if he could duck Bill’s visit completely, he might not have to leave right away.
“Okay. Get your riding boots, and let’s go over to the training ring.”
“Aw, do we still have to walk in circles like babies?”
“Well, now, that all depends on how well you can follow orders, doesn’t it?”
Ten minutes later, Sam had five pairs of attentive eyes on him as he demonstrated how to saddle a horse. The mare he’d selected was docile to the point of being completely disinterested in the entire proceedings. The gelding was a little livelier, but settled down nicely under Sam’s soothing tone. As the afternoon sun grew steadily hotter, he had the boys take turns mounting and riding around the training ring.
“I need to see how well you guys can manage a horse,” he told them.
Sam smiled at their perceptive questions. While they fooled around some outside the ring, none of them acted foolish on top of the horses, and all of them took corrections surprisingly well.
“Okay. Tomorrow, we’ll take six horses and try one of the pastures.”
“How come we can’t do it today?” Zeke wanted to know.
“Because I’m too sore to ride with you guys today,” he told them honestly.
“Oh.” No one argued after that.
He had two of the boys unsaddle the animals, and let one boy help him hold the horses while the others learned to use a currycomb.
“Tomorrow we’ll ask Marly for the best trail to take, okay?”
There were shouts of pleasure, and they headed back to the main house in a jubilant mood. Emma had freshbaked cookies and pitchers of lemonade and milk sitting on the front porch. He left the boys digging into the snack and went up to his room to get the laundry and take another antihistamine tablet. The pile of clothing had disappeared from his bed. Emma, no doubt.
Returning downstairs, he located her in the kitchen. Emma didn’t even blink when he requested five relatively sharp knives and six bars of soap. For the next two hours, Sam proceeded to show the boys the fine art of whittling.
“I need my own knife,” Jerome grumbled. “This thing ain’t no good.”
Sam rubbed his coarse head of hair. “It’ll do for now. That’s a pretty good boat you’re working on, Jerome. I’ll see what I can do about getting us some better knives later.”
“Sam, do you think Chris is gonna die?”
Sam looked down at the boy called Hector and shook his head. “Nope. He’s too ornery to die.” Sam hoped it was the truth. “But I bet he’s gonna wish he hadn’t gone outside without permission.”
“Why did he?” one of the others wanted to know.
“I expect we’ll have to ask him when we see him. Won’t we?”
Sam spotted Marly’s truck turning into the drive, and he tensed, until he realized it was the only vehicle. He was glad Porterfield hadn’t returned with them, but he wondered if that meant good or bad for Chris. They were too far away yet for him to see how many people were inside the cab.
“Hey, that’s Marly,” one of the boys announced, following the direction of his stare.
“Clean up your shavings,” Sam told them. “If we want her to approve of sharper knives, we have to let Marly see you’re all responsible adults here, okay?”
The boys set to the task with fervor, if not with perfection. By the time the truck was stopped, they were all standing in the grass, waiting.
She looked exhausted. T
hat was Sam’s first thought as Marly stepped down from the cab. Her expression lightened when she caught sight of him and he stood slowly and leaned against the post.
“Chris has a concussion,” she said, answering Donald’s question. “No, he’ll be fine,” she told Mickey as they fired questions at her. “They’re going to keep him overnight for observation, but he’ll be okay. Yes, lots of bruises. Yes, he was very lucky.”
Sam felt a presence at his side and turned to see Emma standing there. She smiled with her eyes. “Dinner. Five minutes,” she told him, and disappeared back into the house.
“Okay, sports,” Sam called out. “Emma says dinner in five minutes. You guys need to go wash up, and give Marly a chance to do the same.”
“Why we gotta wash up? We was just playin’ with soap.”
“Yeah. I want to show Marly what I made.”
As the entire procession headed for the porch and the small soap carvings, Carter sent Sam a look of pure malice. Before he could react, Carter stalked off without a word to Marly.
What the hell was that all about?
Marly made appropriate comments about the crude carvings, and the boys scurried inside when Sam reminded them that Emma had been baking brownies, as well as cookies, earlier. Marly paused to lean back against the house alongside him.
“Rough day?” he teased.
“Not at all. What makes you ask? I called the family who owned the goat. They were horrified by what happened, but even more indignant at the reason behind the theft.”
“You sound surprised.” He leaned his hand on the wall near her head and watched her expression. She didn’t move away.
“I am surprised. I thought this would make them join the movement to stop my youth program.”
She had washed her face and combed her hair, he noticed, but her clothes were badly soiled from her climb into the hole. She looked young. Young and tired and extremely vulnerable.
Her eyes shifted away from his. “I also called a local contractor. He promised to be out this week to fill in the hole.”
Sam reached out, even after he told himself not to do it, and brushed back a strand of hair from her face. Her lips parted slightly. They were very provocative lips, he thought once again. “Can you afford it?”
“Can I afford not to?”
Her words were husky and her features softened as she looked at him. She lifted her head a fraction. Sam placed his other hand on the wall beside her head, effectively pinning her between his arms. Her chest rose and fell more quickly. It was also a very provocative chest, he decided. A nice match for her lips.
Slowly, giving her time to push him away, he leaned down and brushed against those lips. They were driving him crazy. She was driving him crazy. Marly made a tiny noise and shut her eyes. Her hands rose to circle his neck. It was all the encouragement he needed.
He’d been planning to take things slow. Hell, who was he kidding? He hadn’t been planning to kiss her at all. But once he tasted the sweetness of her, he was lost. His hands threaded the thick sheaf of hair at the back of her head, drawing her against him as his mouth roamed her lips, savoring the flavor that was uniquely hers.
His tongue traced the seam of her lips, and she opened for him, touching the tip of her tongue to his. He caught fire. She made another small sound, and he swallowed it as he moved restlessly against her. She pushed herself against him unconsciously. His hands slid down her sides to cup her bottom and draw her even closer. He deepened the kiss, savoring the taste and the texture of her.
“Sam, Emma says come to dinner. Oh, yuck. Kissing.”
The dark hair disappeared back inside before Sam could pull away. Marly looked embarrassed and thoroughly kissed. The fingers that she brought to her lips trembled.
“He saw us.”
“’Fraid so.”
“What should we do?”
“Go inside and eat.”
“But—”
“Marly, these are inner-city kids. They’ve probably seen a lot more than what we were doing on this porch.”
“But it’s broad daylight.”
Sam had to grin, knowing she was so rattled she didn’t know what she was saying. “Yep. Does it get better after dark?”
“Stop that.”
“Not a chance. Not if it’s going to get better after dark.”
“You know what I mean.”
He chucked her gently under the chin. “Don’t worry, darlin’. You act like nothing happened and so will they.”
“But—”
“Come on, I’m suddenly starving. I don’t think I ate anything at all today.”
SAM MADE UP for his fast at dinner, Marly decided.
“You gonna play with that stuff or eat it?” he asked her, while helping himself to seconds. Only the presence of the boys kept her from sticking her tongue out at him.
He’d been right about the boys, again, darn him. Not one child had said a word about the kiss, even though at least one of them had witnessed it. She could still feel the tingle of his lips, taste the heat of his mouth.
She found Sam watching her, a private smile playing at the corners of his lips. His expression left her powerless to prevent the warmth that stole into her cheeks. She lifted a forkful of something and chewed without tasting.
“This is a great casserole, Emma,” Sam said.
“Yes,” Marly agreed. “Great.” Just great. Divorced less than a year, and she had the hots for the first good-looking man to come her way.
No, that wasn’t true. Carter was better-looking, in a classical sense. And Carter had made it plain today that he wanted to be the one to share her bed.
The car ride home from the hospital had been untenable. She’d come within an inch of firing the best trainer she’d ever had. Only how could she have handled their conversation differently? When he started talking about all the changes they would make once they were married, Marly had been stunned. She should have seen it coming. She’d known Carter was attracted, but this…
He hadn’t taken the rejection well. He wanted her and he wanted her farm. In that order? Then he’d started raving about Sam. He’d actually demanded she fire him. She could have been more tactful when she put him in his place. Only Carter didn’t seem to understand tact. How was it that she knew so little of men? And what was she going to do now?
As soon as the boys were down for the night, she needed to talk to Sam. He was watching her again. There was heat in his smoky look. Heat that reached into her belly and produced an answering response. Marly squirmed, and his eyes crinkled at the corners in knowing amusement.
The telephone rang, snapping her upright in her chair. She couldn’t take another one of those calls right now, but maybe it wasn’t her nemesis. Maybe it was the hospital. Maybe Chris had taken a turn for the worse.
Marly stood and excused herself, hurrying to the telephone. She was aware of Sam’s gaze following her, this time in concern.
“Hello?”
“Get rid of those kids or I will.”
Chapter Six
“Who was on the phone, Marly?” Sam filled the doorway of her office.
“Wrong number,” she replied quickly.
“From the same person who was going to gift-wrap the goat?”
Marly started, surprised by his perception. He nodded, as if she had answered him. “Did you recognize the voice?”
She shook her head. There was no point in lying now. “It’s always hard to hear, as if he muffles his voice somehow.”
“But you’re sure it’s a he?”
Marly started to answer and stopped. “It never occurred to me it could be a woman.” Sam continued to watch her steadily. “The voice is too deep, I think.”
“Okay. How long have you been getting these calls?”
“Since the boys arrived.”
“The police won’t help?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t called them.”
“Why not?”
How could she tell him she though
t the police were behind the calls? One policeman, at least. Officer Duncan.
He came around the desk. “May I?”
Without waiting for permission, he lifted the phone and pressed the star key, then 69. “This redials the person who just called. His phone number is automatically recorded—as long as it’s within the local calling area—and the police can trace it easily, because now there’s a record of the call.”
Marly regarded him thoughtfully. “I never thought to do that.”
The phone must have been answered after several rings. Even from where she sat Marly could hear the snapped-out greeting. Her heart thundered in her chest. Sam’s face set in hard, angry lines. That anger wasn’t reflected when he spoke. “Jake? It’s Sam. Marly wants to know if the goat was returned without any problems.”
Jake had been making the calls?
She felt stunned. True, she had never been comfortable around the man, but he was a good—and she would have said honest—worker. She should have paid more attention to the fact that he didn’t like the kids. It had just never occurred to her that the calls were being made by one of her own men.
“She isn’t grousing, Jake, only asking.” Sam’s tone was mild. It didn’t go with his expression. “What about the stock? Yeah. I think that’s best. too. No, not tonight. No, we haven’t heard anything new. Yeah, I’m sure he will be fine. Right. I’ll tell her.”
Sam hung up. “You okay?”
She shook her head. “I thought it was Duncan, or one of his neighbors. I never suspected Jake. Why didn’t I recognize his voice?”
His hand lay, a soothing comfort against her shoulder. She resisted an impulse to lean against it.
“You said the voice was muffled. Besides, it may not have been Jake.”
“He answered the phone.”
“The main phone to the bunkhouse, Marly. It rang several times before it was picked up. All that told us was the location of the call—not who made it.”
“Jake’s the only one of my men who objects to the boys being here.”
Sam’s expression became thoughtful. “Is he?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means, someone with access to the bunkhouse phone wants to scare you. It means we have to be watchful and alert from now on.”
Man Without A Badge Page 9