“Violet, I’m so sorry. It shouldn’t have happened.” He scrubbed his shadowed jawline. “I don’t understand why your mother didn’t support you.”
“It was fear. I think she was afraid she would never find another man to support her emotionally.”
“Have you ever tried to contact her?”
“Only when my aunt died but Mom didn’t respond. She wasn’t Aunt Belinda’s sister. I guess once Mom pawned me off on Dad’s sister, she thought her connection to that side of the family ended. She didn’t respond, nor did she attend the funeral.”
That had hurt but had confirmed for Vy that she no longer had a mother.
“So I haven’t contacted her for years, no. Except today I thought about it. Soon she’ll have another grandchild.”
Vy felt herself tear up. God, all of this emotion disgusted her.
She shook her head. “But why would it matter? She didn’t accept her first grandchild. She urged me to put her up for adoption without a single qualm. Then she got rid of me.”
“But that baby was also her boyfriend’s, which would have been painful for her no matter how it came about. This one isn’t.”
“Sam, I’m not going to reach out. That relationship is dead. It’s been fourteen years. She knows where I am. There hasn’t been a single letter or Christmas card or phone call. Her silence speaks volumes.”
He grimaced. “I guess it does.”
She leaned on the counter, elbows locked, and hung her head. Life was never easy or straightforward.
“I’m so tired, Sam. I just want life to stop for a few minutes.”
“Then maybe it should.”
“What do you mean?”
“Come here,” Sam said, holding out his hand across the counter.
“Why?”
“My God, you are prickly.”
She smiled. “Always.”
“It’s a good thing I like you that way, but what you need right now is some Sam Carmichael comfort.”
“It’s going to be hard to think of you as Carmichael instead of Michaels.”
“You’re smart. You’ll manage.”
He took her hand, drew her around the counter and led her to the living room.
“Earlier, I noticed a fireplace in here.” Sam knelt in front of the hearth. “Do you know if this thing works?”
“Yes. The house is drafty in the wintertime. We used the fireplace all winter.”
“Good. Grab a couple of those afghans and lay them out in front of the hearth.”
“We are not making love.”
“Okay.”
“I mean it.”
Sam turned to look at her. “I said okay, Violet.”
But she wanted to make love.
He must have seen her desire in her eyes, because he asked, “Are you sure that we shouldn’t just hold each other?”
“No,” she admitted. “I’m not sure of anything.”
“Me, either.” He smiled. “You look as in need of a hug tonight as I feel. I just found out I’ve made an utter fool of myself in front of an entire town. My grandfather is disappearing and now, too late, I find I’ve missed too much of his life.”
Vy heard the depth of regret in him, in the way his voice cracked.
Sam blew on the paper and kindling bits he’d already lit with a match from a tube on top of the mantel. “Do you need to be held tonight? I do.”
She did need to be held, especially by Sam. She was angry with him and betrayed and hurt but she liked him. She liked his soft side, his caring and nurturing side. She liked the way he moved, with efficiency and purpose even while his silly grin threatened to appear. She liked how easygoing he was...when they weren’t fighting. She liked how he could take charge, like right now when she was vulnerable but didn’t want to admit it.
What if they had the same goals, the same purpose in life? What would it be like to live with a Sam who was laidback, funny and sweet all of the time?
Temptation.
No. It wouldn’t happen.
She had told Sam everything. He hadn’t judged her. But all of this brought back to Vy how much she’d screwed up when young, and of how little she deserved to be happy when her mother was so badly hurt. Her mother had seen every action of Vy’s as betrayal, even though it had protected her from losing her life savings.
Except only Vy believed that. Her mother never had.
She didn’t deserve a life with Sam. She didn’t deserve all the time with Sam. She didn’t deserve more.
“Stop that,” Sam said, a new fire blazing behind him.
“Stop what?”
“Whatever heavy thinking you’re doing that’s putting that look on your face. Tonight it’s just you, me and now. Nothing else. Let’s hold each other.”
“Okay.”
She would not say no to tonight, not on her life. She wanted his arms around her with a hunger that shocked her.
He would leave soon and she would be alone to raise their child. She should scorn him on principle but she needed more of the more she’d experienced with him.
Living on principle made for lonely nights. She’d done that for too long.
Sam might be the man who angered her more than any ever had, except for Ray, but she wanted his arms around her.
If that made her weak, well, then, so be it.
She lay down and cuddled against him with a long sigh.
The strength of his hold, the heat of his body, the depth of her need had her reaching for more of that more.
He sighed, too, and responded.
They made love softly, gently, for a long time.
At one point, they heard the front door open and then Honey’s voice called out, “Violet? Is that you?”
“Yes. Don’t come in.”
“Why not?”
“She knows I come here late to work and to think,” Vy whispered, so Sam would understand the revolving front door after midnight. “Sometimes she shows up when she can’t sleep.”
“Honey, go away,” she said out loud.
“Was that Sam’s truck parked behind the carousel?”
Sam swore under his breath. “Yes, Honey. That’s my vehicle.”
“Vy...do you want him here?”
“Yes, I do, Honey. I really do.”
“Okay. I’ll leave you two alone.”
Vy heard the front door close and the lock click into place, as Honey made sure no one else interrupted them. It didn’t much matter who had forgotten to lock it earlier. Sam was with her now for one night.
One precious night.
The sex, the holding, the comforting and the murmured words lasted until dawn. Vy reveled in it.
“Violet?” Sam sounded as replete as Vy felt.
“Yes?”
“You did the right thing all of those years ago, even if your mother didn’t believe it. Even if she never does.”
“Maybe.”
He shook her shoulder. “Yes,” he insisted. “Imagine if you hadn’t. Imagine the state your mother would have been in if Ray had taken all of her money and fled town.”
“I guess I was so overwhelmed by the reality of everything that happened that I lost sight of that. I don’t know what Mom would have done or how she would have survived.”
“Remember that, Violet. You are an amazing person. What you did for your mother at such a young age took courage. Afterward you were violated and then abandoned. You are a rock. You are the best person I’ve ever met.”
Vy struggled not to cry. She preferred to be strong. Not that she would ever see tears in others as weakness, but she found them so in herself.
“It’s time,” Sam whispered. “I’m sorry.”
Vy understood that his apology
covered everything, the way he’d come to town, their carelessness in conceiving a baby and his inability to stay.
They stood and dressed. When fully clothed, she turned to Sam. He kissed her one last time, turned and left the house. Vy stared at the closed front door for a long time, then got into her own car around the back.
At home, she trudged upstairs knowing she’d seen Sam for the last time as a lover, and maybe as a friend. From now on, she expected their correspondence to be through lawyers and banks. No love letters. No romance.
But Sam had given her two gifts. First, the baby in her belly. Until now she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the little girl she’d given up for adoption. How much that had left a gaping hole in her.
This baby was a gift.
Second, he’d laid her mind to rest about her mother. Yes, Mom had been devastated by Vy’s apparent betrayal, but she would have been lost without money and a means of support.
Maybe Mom was living a lonely life or maybe she’d found a more honest partner than Ray. Vy didn’t know.
What she did know was that telling her friends and Sam about it, and receiving their support, had given her the first peace she’d felt in years.
Now, to get on with the rest of her life.
Chapter Twelve
Sam returned to Travis’s house, showered, put on his work clothes and walked out to the stable, where he found comfort in the daily routine.
Last night had been... Well, he couldn’t think about it or he would become overwhelmed with sadness.
He heard Travis in the office at the back. Sam went to him.
“Can I talk to you?” Sam asked.
Travis looked up from the book he’d been studying. “Sure. What is it?”
“On second thought, I’d like to include Rachel in this conversation.”
Travis frowned but nodded. “At breakfast, then?”
“Good.” Sam returned to his chores. He hadn’t been paid a cent in his time here outside room and board, but the work had been more satisfying than most anything he’d ever done. Simple and honest.
Not that he would ever consider becoming either a cowboy or a rancher. He knew his own character.
At breakfast, with the family seated around the kitchen table, including Chelsea, Sam said, “My name isn’t Sam Michaels. It’s Carson Samuel Carmichael.”
A breath whooshed out of Rachel. Chelsea stared at him.
“Thanks,” she said.
He glanced at her. “For what?”
“For finally doing the right thing. For telling the truth.”
He smiled, but it felt grim. A day late and a dollar short. Yes, he should have been honest from the start but Gramps meant the world to him. How could Sam have known Gramps got it all wrong and not the women?
“You’re Carson’s grandson?” Rachel asked.
“Yes.”
“But why didn’t you tell us?”
“I came here to spy on the revival committee.” He explained to Travis and Rachel everything that he’d told Violet last night. “I was motivated by love and worry for my grandfather. I protect my family fiercely.”
Travis nodded. He would understand the sentiment, if not the methods used.
“If I’d known all of you women beforehand, I wouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I thought you were trying to rip him off.”
Rachel digested all of that and then stared at him, shocked. “Oh, no.”
“What?” Sam asked.
“I said some nasty things about Carson’s grandson in front of you.”
“Yes, you did.” Sam grinned. “And thought even worse than you said, I’ll bet.”
“Yes. I did. But you’re a nice man.”
“I am. I’m worried about Gramps and his deteriorating state of mind.”
Rachel frowned. “We all are. He’s so dear to us. He’s been part of our lives forever. I hate to see his mind drift away.”
“I’m going to come back and visit him lots,” Chelsea said defiantly.
“Anytime you want to visit Rodeo, you come and stay with us, okay?”
“I would like that, Rachel.” Chelsea shot a rebellious glance at Sam.
“That’s fine with me, Chelsea,” he said quietly.
Her tight shoulders eased a bit. At some point, she would learn that he had her best interests at heart. Since the day he’d lambasted both Gramps and Chelsea for treating him badly, she’d been better. Not perfect, but better. In time, he hoped, the destruction caused by her parents’ divorce would have less and less of an impact.
That afternoon, they visited Gramps and told him.
“So you’re really leaving?” His eyes watered.
“We’ll be back,” Sam assured him, but he couldn’t say when, knowing how much work starting a business entailed. He’d already had to do a certain amount of it long-distance. He shouldn’t even have been in Rodeo at such a crucial time.
But Gramps...well, he was worth it.
Sam regretted deeply that he had distrusted those great women. If only he’d suspected Gramps’s state of mind before he left home.
They hugged Gramps for long, long moments, no one wanting to let go, to make this goodbye real.
The next two days passed in a blur for Sam. He’d never had such a crisis of conscience. He knew he had to leave. He didn’t want to. He had to. His head ached.
He visited the local legal office and had them draw up documents giving Sam power of attorney over Gramps’s affairs. With his doctor as witness that Gramps was still able to make the decision to sign the papers, and was cognizant of doing so, Sam had everything finalized.
He breathed a sigh. Relief. Thank goodness Gramps was cared for. Sam could rest more easily knowing that he could take care of Gramps even from a distance.
Next, he visited Michael Moreno’s ranch where he met Samantha Read, a strikingly beautiful, happy, levelheaded woman. Where money matters for the fair were concerned, she would be dealing with him from now on, not Gramps.
He met Michael, a taciturn, salt-of-the-earth kind of man, steady of character with a good firm handshake. He met their four children. A combined family. Cute little kids and one quiet older boy. More power to them if they could make it work.
He returned to the ranch and helped Travis out with as many chores as he could to ease his burden. Sam had become pretty good at a lot of it.
He packed his bags.
On the day of departure, he loaded the SUV.
It took them ages to leave because Tori wouldn’t let go of Chelsea. Or was it the other way around? Sam couldn’t tell. All he knew was that two young girls stood in front of him with their hearts breaking.
They’d only been here three and a half weeks. How could the girls have grown so close in so short a time?
Why not, Sam? You fell in love with Violet that quickly.
Love! Whoa. No. No way.
Sam leaned against the vehicle with his heart pounding out of his chest, thinking about the night they’d spent together in Gramps’s house. The tenderness and passion and deep connection had cemented themselves in his heart, a piece of him now, part of his life no matter how far away from Rodeo and Violet that he drove.
His experience here had changed him.
Violet had changed him.
With her big, bold personality and generous heart, she’d given him more than he’d ever expected to find in this small town. Even after learning of his betrayal, she’d laid herself bare and had made herself vulnerable to him. So much courage.
He would treasure memories of that night forever.
His phone rang, cutting through his thoughts and the girls’ sobbing goodbyes.
He answered. Tom Hudson, the lawyer for his new company, with questions. When did he
expect to arrive in the city? When could they talk? They needed to book one final appointment.
Barely able to concentrate, Sam named a time. He couldn’t bring his partners’ faces to mind, let alone details of the business.
He’d been away too long and had gone too far both in distance and emotionally.
It would come back to him. He straightened away from the vehicle. He would get his business mojo back. No problem.
“Chelsea,” he said. “We have to go.”
He shook Travis’s hand. “You turned out to be a pretty good ranch hand,” the man said.
If Sam had stayed, he knew he could have forged a friendship with Travis.
He turned to Rachel with his arms slightly open. Would she let him hug her?
She did, and he smiled from ear to ear. He liked her and hugged her hard. She was smart and talented and a good friend to Violet.
Their leaving more difficult than Sam could have possibly anticipated, he turned away to discreetly wipe a tear.
A grown man like him crying. He needed to stop, but it was hard with the girls’ faucets running nonstop. How was he going to get Chelsea away from here?
Again he said to her, “We have to go.”
She trudged to the car and got in.
He drove away without looking back, but Chelsea stared through the back window, waving, until the old Victorian and its inhabitants couldn’t be any larger than dots in the distance.
She turned around. “Can we stop at the fairground?”
“Yes.” He had planned to anyway, to say goodbye to a place that mattered to him, that was no longer a dream created by his grandfather’s stories but a reality seen with his own eyes.
So what if it still needed work? There was magic in the place. The impulse that had started the women on their revival of it had been sound. They were smart. They would do well.
If he wished that he could be here to see it happen, he squashed that sentiment ruthlessly.
“I’m coming back in August.” Chelsea sounded less defiant and more confident.
He smiled at her. “That’s a good idea.”
“Will you come with me?”
“I’ll try.” He sensed her withdrawal, knowing that in parent speak “I’ll try” most often meant no.
Rodeo Baby Page 17