by Dee Burks
Samantha sat straight up in the darkness. Her breath came in short gasps and her heart pounded. The door swung open and Taos rushed to her. “What’s th-”
She leaped into his arms and buried her head in his chest.
“You’re okay, shhh.” He comforted her, stroking her hair and holding her tight. “It’s just a storm.”
She shook her head, “It’s not that, it’s just. . .”
He didn’t let her go, and she didn’t want him too. After a few minutes he picked her up and carried her to his bed. He tucked her in next to him. One long arm curled around and pulled her close.
“It’s okay. You’re safe,” he whispered, stroking her hair. Samantha fought fatigue, wanting to enjoy every touch, every whisper, but eventually a peaceful slumber overtook her.
The next morning Samantha stood on the porch as the sun licked the shadows into retreat. She watched Taos saddle his horse and prepare to leave for the day with Darren. The air was cool from the rain, and tiny insects danced in the orange light of dawn. Birds chirped, and the slight, sweet scent of honeysuckle floated on the air.
What if he could tell by looking? Her body fairly hummed with excitement now just as it had when he walked into the kitchen that morning. He had been gone when she woke, and neither one said a word about last night.
The urge to run inside, to hide these feelings, tugged at her, but the desire to stay was too strong. She picked at her fingers nervously and glanced at Taos out of the corner of her eye. There was no doubt she was heading down a dangerous road but she’d given up the idea she had any control over it. It was fun at first to toy with him, tempting him with her jokes and innuendos, but last night, lying in his arms, she had felt safe and at peace. That compassionate, caring person she remembered still existed under Taos’s gruff exterior and there was no more denying the fact that she wanted more.
The muscles of Taos’s back rippled under his shirt as he tossed first the blanket, then the saddle atop his horse. Her gaze slid down his torso all the way to his boots. Aunt Mattie would have called him a long tall drink of water, and Samantha was parched. The men mounted and headed out. directing the horses past the house toward the back pasture. Taos met her gaze with a slow smile. The curve of his lips sent a warm rush through Samantha, and she smiled back.
Did he think she was pretty? Last night he had held her close, which was wonderful, but he didn’t even try to kiss her. He’d liked her well enough when he woke with her in his bed the first time. She rubbed her forehead with her fingers and closed her eyes. What must he think? He hadn’t pushed her away, but was she any different to him than the women at Miss Sadie’s? His gentle touch and soft lips could wipe her mind of any control she might have and leave her powerless to resist, not that she wanted to.
How do you ask a man what he really thinks? Do they think about things like love, or do they just grab what comes by? She could sit him down and be completely honest and just ask him flat out. He might laugh. Could she handle it if he turned her away? The conflicting emotions distracted, thrilled, and annoyed her as she set about cleaning the kitchen from top to bottom with a vengeance once again.
She practiced the different possibilities in her mind. What if he had the same thoughts and feelings she did? Would they eventually get married? Her heart fairly tripped over the thought of being his wife, of really belonging here—to him. The idea of waking up in his arms every morning was intoxicating. What if they had another little boy like Tommy, or maybe a girl with his beautiful blue eyes?
Samantha paused and frowned. She was just as bad as he thought she was! She’d tried her best to convince him she had no interest in any man, and that had been true when she got here. But now, something had shifted. She’d gone from finding new ways to irritate him to wanting to have his babies in a matter of days, which was ridiculous. She punched the pillow she was holding and then set it on the newly made bed. It wasn’t like she was fourteen with some school girl crush. She was a grown woman who knew her own mind—at least she thought she did.
Taos was certainly an adult as well and all man. Her mind wondered back to the feel of his weight on her in bed. She’d wanted so much more and her imagination had worked overtime with the erotic ideas she’d learned at Miss Sadie’s. If Tommy hadn’t walked in things would have gone much farther. What if they had?
She stirred up another batch of cookies, rolled the dough onto the table, and cut them with an upturned glass. While they baked, she cleaned the parlor again. If this mental turmoil kept up she’d scrub right through the floor. Dust rose in clouds from the chair cushions as she whacked the fabric with a broom.
The office posed the biggest challenge. She hadn’t cleaned at all in here yet, and the idea still overwhelmed her a bit. But this is where she felt his presence the most. She stood at the door and stared. Where to begin? The pile on the desk seemed the least intimidating. She stacked and sorted until the papers were in some sort of order.
Bills, cattle receipts, bank deposits, and miscellaneous correspondence. Even at first glance, it appeared to her the ranches were doing well. She looked for a ledger book in the drawers. She found one and blew the dust off it. The date of the last entry was more than a year ago.
She entered each receipt she had piled on the desk, then looked through every drawer, around and behind every piece of furniture, and through every book for other receipts. She carefully added these to her previous entries and totaled them. She frowned and totaled them again. The ranch wasn’t doing well . . . It was doing very well. So why did they live like paupers? Her mind struggled for a reason. Why does he not want me to know how well things are going? There was plenty of money. Why would he lie?
He’s doesn’t want me to know how much my ranch is worth. She tossed out the idea. But it crept back, causing an unmistakable chill in her heart. He wants both ranches. The old Taos wouldn’t have even considered keeping what wasn’t his, but this man was not the same person—at least sometimes. It was like he was two different people: cold and unyielding sometimes, warm and irresistible others. Was he manipulating her?
Taos said repeatedly he didn’t want her, yet he’d given up completely on getting rid of her. It had been a little too easy as he could just have plopped her on the next train to Boston. Was he just pacifying her until he figured out a way to keep her out of his business?
He didn’t really want her, did he? Even now she wanted to believe he did. The attraction was just too strong for it to be one-sided, but he’d kept his distance. Even last night with her right there in his bed, he hadn’t touched her or kissed her the way he did that first night. She wanted his touch, needed it so badly it was driving her insane. She couldn’t go on like this; she didn’t want to, and it was high time they ditched those stupid rules.
She turned her attention to the pile of correspondence. She stacked the letters and looked for a place to put them. The drawer with the ink and paper seemed the logical place. She moved everything to the front and piled the papers in the back of the drawer. A folded piece of paper fell from the stack. She unfolded it and read:
Dear Mattie,
Must send Samantha back to you. No place for her here at this time. Please advise.
Taos
Fear shook her. If John Lawson got a hold of this he’d know exactly where to find her. The letter was by itself in the drawer. Maybe he hadn’t sent it. Maybe he’d changed his mind. She didn’t know what to think anymore. She shoved the letter into her pocket and returned to the kitchen.
She popped another pan of cookies into the oven and slammed the door shut. She paced around the room as they baked, working herself into a frenzy of “what ifs.” What if Lawson had already gotten the letter and was on his way. What if Mattie were in danger, too? Taos had no idea the kinds of problems he may have set in motion. By the time Taos and Darren stepped through the back door for dinner, she was an emotional wreck.
Taos was a little startled at the hostility he sensed. Darren didn’t seem to notice
, and slid into a chair, exhausted. Taos walked over to the pot of coffee and stole a quick glance toward Samantha.
“Whoa boy, it’s warm out today.” Darren flipped his sweaty hat into a chair.
“Kinda warm in here, too, don’t you think, Sammy?” Taos asked. She looked at him as if he were a mosquito she wanted to swat.
He looked back at the floor. They hadn’t tracked in any mud, so that wasn’t it. He could tell she had cleaned again. Was he supposed to say something? “The kitchen looks great.”
“Thank you.”
Burrrr! That wasn’t it either. “Um, and the cookies smell good.”
“Thank you.”
He looked closely at her to make sure icicles weren’t hanging off her tongue. As she dished slices of ham onto plates he took a seat at the table.
She wasn’t upset when they left. He had felt some kind of shift last night. It was as if she had dropped this crazy game she was playing and was just a frightened, beautiful woman who wanted his comfort. He wasn’t sure what scared her so bad, but it was real and not just some lighting storm.
Taos had thought of her all day. The way she stood on the porch, surrounded by the orange glow of sunlight. She was beautiful, and it was all he could do not to jump off his horse when she smiled at him. He revisited every minute of last night a thousand times from her soft smooth skin to the way she responded to his touch as she slept.
So what had he done since then? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He leaned back as she plopped his plate down in front of him so hard the cookies in the middle of the table jumped, and so did Darren.
Why the attitude? Taos wondered, was it because he won? He’d kept his distance and she hadn’t. That had to be it. She knew he was in control now and didn’t like it one bit. She was flustered and embarrassed that she responded the way she did to him. That was it. He’d always heard that there was a thin line between fighting and loving. He beamed a smile at her.
“What’s so funny?” Her voice was sharp.
“Nothin’.” Taos picked up his fork and took a big bite. She seemed to be more annoyed by the minute. “Where’s Tommy?” he asked.
“He already ate.” She reached for the cookies just as he did, and their hands touched. She jerked hers back as if she had been scalded and stared down at her plate.
“He’s been tired lately. You must be putting him to work.” The soft tone of his voice drew her eyes upward. She was as skittish as a new colt. This was definitely his game. He felt like a man who held a full house and she had only a pair of deuces. He grabbed the coffee pot off the stove and went around the table, filling each cup.
He leaned over and gently touched the back of her arm “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” She squeaked and scooted away, her face staining red.
He and Darren talked casually about the work still ahead tomorrow as Samantha finished her meal in silence. He caught her watching him and returned her gaze with a slow smile. She blushed and he found it more and more difficult to concentrate on what Darren said. Although he wanted to completely unnerve her, he was the one getting frustrated. If he kept this up, he’d end up dragging her off to the barn for a roll in the hay—literally.
“There’s a dance in town in a few weeks.” Darren informed them while polishing off the last of his sandwich. “I thought Sammy might like to get out for a while.”
Startled out of his thoughts, Taos glared at Darren, then at Samantha.
“That sounds nice.”
She was distracted, something was definitely on her mind.
“I don’t think you should be going.” Taos commanded.
She ignored him. “When is it?”
Darren opened his mouth to reply, but was immediately cut off.
“No need for you to go, you won’t be here long enough to get to know anyone.” Taos said.
“Excuse me.” Samantha laid her napkin on the table and walked out the back door.
Darren frowned at him. “Do you have to be a total ass?”
“What?” Taos held up his hands innocently.
“Some days you have all the personality of thirty g-grit sandpaper!” Darren stood. “It’s a wonder you ever had a woman within t-ten feet of you!” He took the stairs to the second floor two at a time to get away from Taos.
“Damn.” Taos felt less than an inch tall. Something just wasn’t right with Sammy. It was like she was distant, sad. He didn’t like it, not one bit. He thought he had it figured out this morning. She had responded to his touch, smiled at him like he was the best thing on earth, and now this. Somewhere between then and now something had changed, but what? He wasn’t trying to hurt her; she wasn’t playing the game right. This wasn’t how she was supposed to react. He was supposed to say something to make her mad, and her green eyes would flash that beautiful yellow color and she would go for his throat. She wasn’t supposed to fold. This was like playing poker blindfolded.
Chapter 13
She had to leave. Samantha hadn’t really thought about it until Darren asked her about the dance, and she had realized it didn’t matter when it was; she would be in Boston by then. Either Taos sent the letter and Lawson would be here any day, or he hadn’t and Mattie would soon alert her that all was well. There would be no more reason for her to be here, and she couldn’t keep up the charade that she was just in it for the ranch. Either way she would be gone. She’d stalked around the house all day angry at Taos for not trusting her but the truth was she didn’t trust herself.
Her feet plodded along the path and Samantha was lost in thought, not caring where they took her. As the sun sank toward the horizon, her heart felt like it had shriveled to the size of a raisin. Be careful what you wish for, Aunt Mattie had always said. There was certainly no doubt in her mind where she stood now. Nowhere. The letter proved he wanted to pawn her off just as fast as he could on someone else, and time was short. She closed her eyes and silently begged to see the young man she had known once. The old Taos was pretty much dead and any dreams she had to the contrary were just that: dreams.
She stopped as the fragrances wafted toward her. She was on the edge of the flower garden. The beauty of the spot had a soothing effect, and she wandered along the path until she stood in front of the tiny angel. She knelt and sat back on her feet, staring up at the red-and-white striped petals that covered the rose canes. She should be thrilled at the thought of going home, but instead it filled her with an aching sadness.
A large pink rose suddenly appeared in front of her.
“A peace offering.” Taos’s soft voice vibrated just above her ear.
Her hands shook as she reached for the flower.
He sat behind her, long legs to one side, leaning near enough for her to feel the warmth of his chest on her back. She felt his breath brush her neck and closed her eyes. She was so tired of talking. To him, to herself. Wondering how he felt or what he thought. She couldn’t make heads or tails of her own emotions let alone his. Did she have feelings for him, or just the memory of him she’d held on to for the last nine years?
He slid an arm around her waist and drew her back against him. “People say a lot of things they don’t mean sometimes.”
“People?”
He didn’t answer. Just the warmth of his arm circling her made her feel better than she had all day. She twirled the rose in her hand. The petals were soft and fragrant and she trailed them along her cheek. She imagined his fingers following their path. She glanced back and found him watching her intently. “What kind of rose is this?”
“It’s called a cabbage rose. It’s the same rose you might see in a painting by one of the Dutch masters in one of your museums in Boston.”
“Boston seems a lifetime away from this place.”
“You a little homesick?”
“Yes, and no.” She glanced at his questioning expression. “I mean, I miss Mattie.” She inhaled the sweet scent of honeysuckle that wafted on the breeze from a nearby trellis. “I don’t miss the noise, or the tr
affic, or the people.”
“You didn’t have friends.”
“A few, but . . .” No one that knew her, or really understood. Not like here. “The people there are just different, that’s all.”
“More civilized and citified than a bunch of cowhands, I bet.”
“Yes, but that’s not necessarily a good thing.”
He raised his brows at her statement.
“There are so many people that only care about appearances. They try constantly to be something they are not. With the people here, what you see is what you get, warts and all.”
He laughed. “There’s plenty of warts.”
“It is a very good thing to get back to who and what you are. To find where you belong. I think it’s like a wonderful gift.”
“I know what you mean,” he mumbled.
Was he talking about himself, or was it a reference to her? God knows she hadn’t been herself since stepping foot off that train. “How do you know so much about roses?”
“You think it’s a strange hobby for a rancher?”
“A little.”
“There were some books my mother had when she came here.” He trailed a finger down her arm, leaving fiery warmth in its wake. “When I was a teenager, I asked my dad what she was like and he handed me these books. They were about gardening and flowers, roses in particular. He could never talk about her, so I read.”
“I saw the books in your office.”
He shrugged. “I’ve added a few here and there.”
“I really didn’t remember much about my mother either, as far as what kind of person she really was. I just remember her always being there for me. I don’t know what she worried about, or what dreams she had growing up.” She stared into the distance. “Or even if she liked roses.”
“I remember you mother. Claire was beautiful.” He thought a minute. “Your dad loved her very much.”