“If those two don’t end up on the stage, the world will be denied the presence of great actresses,” Cheryl said in awe.
“I hate to tell you this, New York, but they’re just getting started.”
He walked over and sat beside her on the sofa. “I have to admit, it’s a good idea. I’m sure I can’t pay you what a ballerina earns. In spite of appearances, ranching isn’t always a prosperous business, but I think I can pay you what a ninny would make.”
They exchanged amused glances. “I think you have an exaggerated idea of what a ballerina pulls down,” she said. “It’s a tempting offer, Sam, but no.”
“You said yourself that you can’t dance. This way you have a place to stay and a little money coming in until your foot is healed.”
“Sam, I can’t. I adore your kids, but I have to rejoin my company.”
He grew serious as he studied her face. He reached out and brushed a wisp of hair back from the edge of her jaw, then dropped his hand. He stood and smiled at her. “I hate to think you’re leaving us for a bunch of guys in pink tights.”
A grin struggled through her sadness. Trust Sam to find a way to make her smile.
He gave a nod in the direction of the stairs. “I’ve got to get back to work now. Is there anything I can do for you?”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Do you think you could stay until Friday at least? I really do need to go to Kansas City on Thursday. If I can convince these clients to go with my design, it’ll mean a lot. It seems the girls aren’t crazy about Merci’s offer to let them stay with her. Walter thinks he can handle them, but the truth is, I’d feel better if I had someone to look after all of them.”
“I’ll stay until then,” she conceded. “It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for me. Besides, I can’t go anywhere until I have my wallet back, or until I know for sure I need to report everything as lost.”
“Thanks. Most of the snow is gone. I’ll go look for it again this afternoon,” he offered, turning to leave.
“Thanks, Sam.” Cheryl watched him walk back to the staircase. His broad shoulders slumped as he thrust his hands deep in his pockets. Watching him walk away, she had the strangest feeling that she’d just lost something very valuable, and it wasn’t her wallet.
Sam checked on the twins, but they weren’t in their room. It wasn’t unusual for them to retreat to the barn or the garden when they were unhappy. He’d talk to them about Cheryl’s leaving later.
Back in his office, he sat down at his desk, dropped his head onto both hands and raked his fingers through his hair. All he had to do was find a way to tell the twins they couldn’t have what he wanted, too. For Cheryl to stay.
He reminded himself once again that this attraction couldn’t go anywhere. She was the exact opposite of what he needed. He needed a woman who wanted to be a mother to his children. Cheryl was beautiful, funny and intelligent, but she wasn’t interested in being a mother, or in living on a ranch. She had a life planned that was far different. A life he and his children could have no part in.
An hour later, he heard the twins return. He opened their bedroom door to find two muddy and tired girls. They nodded quietly when he told them Cheryl wouldn’t be staying. The arguments he expected didn’t materialize. He left their room feeling a little worried and more than a bit suspicious of such cooperative behavior.
The weather warmed up to its normal springtime high the next day. By afternoon, the snow was gone except for a few drifts that lingered in the shade of the buildings and trees.
By mutual and unspoken consent, Sam and Cheryl avoided any talk of her leaving. Cheryl expected the time to pass awkwardly but was surprised to find that she enjoyed a growing friendship with Sam. If her smiles were too bright, or her humor a little forced, no one seemed to notice. When she found herself longing for something more, she ruthlessly pushed those feelings aside. And if she wasn’t sleeping well, she put it down to her aching foot.
The twins were treating her like royalty, she noted, as they carefully carried her lunch tray out onto the balcony for an impromptu picnic on the second day of beautiful weather. The snow was gone from the hillside where she had watched them sledding. Here and there, hardy spring flowers that had been hidden by the snow were putting in an appearance.
Cheryl was enjoying her time with the girls when the sound of footsteps caused her heart to flutter and skip a beat. Sam came up the stairs that led to the balcony from a walk at the side of the house.
“Am I too late for lunch?” he asked.
“Nope, you’re just in time.” Lindy presented him with a messy version of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “I made it myself,” she announced proudly.
Cheryl had already sampled hers. She watched Sam take a seat and tip his hat back.
“This is what I like,” he stated cheerfully.
“Peanut butter and jelly?” Cheryl inquired with a raised eyebrow.
“Nope. Having lunch with three pretty ladies.” He drew smiles from all the ladies with his blatant flattery and took a hearty bite of his sandwich. He had a little jelly left on the side of his mouth when he finished, and Cheryl found herself holding his chin steady to wipe it off with her napkin. His teasing grin faded, and his eyes darkened. She let her hand fall back to the table and looked away.
Across from them the twins glanced at each other and smiled slyly. “Can we go play?”
“Sure,” Sam answered absently, and they took off.
Easy, Sam, he cautioned himself. You can be friends, but nothing more. He tried to concentrate on something besides the way she made him wish she wasn’t the wrong woman for him.
“The girls really like you,” he said. “Not many people can learn to tell them apart as quickly as you have.”
“I adore them. They’re as bright as new pennies. You’ve done a fine job with them, Sam.”
“Thanks. You should have kids of your own. You’re great with them.” He dropped his gaze to his plate. That was a stupid thing to say. He must be as transparent as glass, but what would it hurt to put the idea out and see how she reacted? He held his breath as he waited for her reply.
“Maybe I will. Someday. Who knows?”
Sam’s hope rose. It wasn’t a flat no. If only they had more time.
She smiled at him brightly. “I’d just have to meet the right man first.”
“And what would the right man be like?”
“Oh, someone who loves ballet and hot pretzels with mustard and New York City even in the summer when it’s muggy and clogged with smog.”
“I thought maybe it would be a guy who brought you chocolate and roses?”
She looked away and didn’t answer. Sam rose to his feet. He had to stop kidding himself, she’d never be happy here.
“I’ve got a council member meeting at church tonight and Walter has his weekly checkers game with one of our neighbors. Do you think you can handle the terrible twosome by yourself for an evening?”
She smiled and nodded. “No problem, cowboy. Just leave me the phone number where you’ll be, the hospital’s number…” she began to count off on her fingers, “…the sheriff’s number, poison control, the fire department, ah, your insurance agent’s number, the number for your next of kin, the vet’s number…”
“The vet?”
“In case anything happens to Bonkers.”
“Aren’t we being a little paranoid?”
“Good idea. Leave me your therapist’s number.”
“I don’t have a therapist. But I’m beginning to think I may need one. Oh, I almost forgot. This letter came for you today.” He pulled a folded white envelope from his shirt pocket and handed it to her.
“That must be my last paycheck.” Cheryl took it and tucked it in her shirt pocket. She would look at it later. That way if she burst into tears at the tiny amount no one would see her.
Later that day, as she watched Sam let his daughters help with the housework, she realized that he loved being a f
ather. He was endlessly patient with the girls’ less-than-perfect efforts, and Cheryl found herself admiring his kindness and the gentle way he helped tiny hands perform eager tasks.
For ten years Cheryl had been consumed by her work. Now, everything she’d denied she needed was suddenly spread out before her, and she was disturbed to feel she’d been missing out on something equally as important as her dancing.
Her evening alone with the twins went smoothly. Later that night, she remembered her paycheck and pulled it out of her pocket. When she opened the envelope there wasn’t a check. There was only a single sheet of paper without a signature. On it in bold block print was written,
Go away. You aren’t wanted here. Go away.
The terse missive made Cheryl’s skin crawl. Who had sent it? Who wanted her gone? She picked up the envelope, but there was no return address. It seemed that she had made someone angry. Merci perhaps? Who else could it be?
The troubling letter kept her awake long after she lay in bed. Sleep eluded her as she listened for the sound of Sam coming home and wondered what she should do about the note. There really was nothing to do, she realized. She would be leaving soon. Only she didn’t like the idea that someone would think she had turned tail and run away after a sick prank like this.
It was after midnight when she finally heard Sam’s truck in the driveway, followed by his quiet footsteps across the hardwood floor in the living room. She turned over and settled his pillow under her face, but sleep was a long time in coming.
The following day, between the insistent twins and the lure of the warm sunshine, Cheryl decided to venture out and explore some of the ranch. Once outside, the twins headed for the large red barn and white painted corrals across the gravel yard. A windmill twirled gaily beside the barn. The breeze that spun it brought the loamy scent of spring to her, and Cheryl was surprised to discover how much she’d missed the enticing freshness and smells of a Kansas spring.
Sam stood saddling a tall, roan horse beside the barn. He wore a light blue denim shirt, jeans and leather chaps. His high-heeled boots sported blunt silver spurs. The fringe of his chaps fluttered softly as he moved. The man was a cowgirl’s dream come to life, she thought, as she watched him lift the heavy saddle with ease. He spoke softly to the big roan as he bent to reach under the horse’s belly for the girth. Too bad she wasn’t a cowgirl.
Sam lowered the stirrup after he’d finished tightening the cinch and patted the roan’s shoulder. The horse, meanwhile, had his head down allowing the twins to scratch enthusiastically behind his ears.
“Come on, Cheryl, come see our new baby calf,” Kayla insisted. The girls took off toward a second, smaller corral.
Cheryl smiled at Sam and willed her heart to stop its wild fluttering as she followed the pair to where a little Charolais was busy suckling lunch from his patient mother. His stubby tail was twirling nearly as fast as the windmill. Every now and then, he gave his mother’s udder an impatient butt with his snowy head.
“Wait a minute,” Sam called. He mounted and rode up beside them. “Grandpa Walter has gone into town for feed, so you girls will be on your own while I’m gone. It’s okay if you want to pet Henrietta’s new calf, she won’t mind, but don’t go into the other corral. I opened the barn door so Harvey can come out now that the weather’s getting warmer. You stay out of his corral. Is that understood?” His tone was stern.
“Yes, sir!” rang out from all three of them.
“Good.” He grinned at Cheryl’s mock salute.
“Who’s Harvey?” she asked.
“Possibly the salvation of this ranch.”
“I don’t understand.”
“He’s one of those pedigreed cattle I was talking about. Harvey is our three-time-grand-champion Charolais show bull and the backbone of our advanced breeding program. There are cows lined up as far away as Canada who are just waiting to have one of his calves.”
Cheryl wrinkled her nose. “He’s going to be busy, isn’t he?”
“Very busy, I hope.” Sam grinned at her, touched the brim of his hat, then whirled his horse and rode away.
She watched him ride out of the yard. It wasn’t fair. The man looked even better on horseback.
The twins leaned through the fence and began petting the calf’s wooly head when he paused in his eating to investigate these potential new playmates. He frisked away from the twins, and the girls slipped through the fence to follow him in an impromptu game of tag.
Cheryl glanced toward the barn. A small white cat, followed by a trio of black-and-white kittens intent on catching their mother’s twitching tail, emerged to sit in a patch of sunshine. Cheryl looked for a bull but didn’t see him.
It was foolish to worry about a cat that obviously lived in the barn, but she didn’t want the kittens playing in harm’s way.
“Here kitty, kitty,” she called, extending her hand. The next instant, the bull’s massive head appeared in the doorway. He dwarfed the kittens clustered beneath him. Cheryl held her breath, certain she was about to see them trampled.
She checked quickly for the twins. They were still in the adjacent pen. They stood looking into a large round stock tank. It extended under both sides of the corral fence so animals in both enclosures could drink from it. Cheryl didn’t think they could see the kittens.
She looked back at the gigantic white bull. He snorted once over the kittens, but the silly things didn’t have the sense to run. Then, he put his muzzle down and snorted again. One kitten merely arched its back and rubbed against the giant’s nose. With a gentle push Cheryl wouldn’t have believed if she hadn’t seen it, the bull moved the kittens out of his way, stepped out into the sunshine and lumbered across the corral.
He was a magnificent animal. Dense white ringlets covered his head and thick neck, and his snowy coat gleamed in the sunlight. Powerful muscles moved smoothly as he trotted around the perimeter of the corral.
“Cheryl, look what we can do,” Lindy called.
The twins had climbed to the top of the fence and begun to walk along it with their arms outstretched like tightrope walkers. It was a game Cheryl and her sister had played often as children. The object was to see who could walk the thick wooden rail the farthest without falling.
The bull took an interest in their activity and moved to stand beside the tank as the girls walked over the top of it. With the huge animal standing so close, suddenly, the children’s game didn’t look so safe. Cheryl moved down the fence toward them. She wanted to call out, but she was afraid to startle the girls.
Lindy reached the far side of the tank and jumped down with a laugh. Cheryl let out a sigh of relief, then everything happened at once.
Lindy’s jump startled the bull. He swung his head against the boards with a blow that shook the entire fence. Kayla lost her balance, uttering a short, bitten-off scream as she fell. Her head struck the steel rim of the tank as her body disappeared with a splash.
Cheryl screamed Kayla’s name and lunged to grip the fence in front of her. Lindy’s scream echoed her own.
Sam was headed down the lane when he heard the screams. He turned in the saddle in time to see Cheryl throw her crutch over the corral fence and vault over after it.
He couldn’t believe his eyes. She fell once, came up with her crutch and continued to charge across the muddy pen sending the cow and calf bolting out of her way. Sam searched for the twins, but he saw only one child standing beside the stock tank screaming.
He ruthlessly hauled his horse’s head around and spurred for the corrals.
Chapter Eight
Cheryl reached the stock tank and gripped the cold metal rim. There was no sign of Kayla. Quickly, she stepped into the icy, hip-deep water and began searching by feel under the murky surface.
“Kayla, where are you, baby? Please, God, help me find her!” Cheryl heard the panic in her own voice. After years of ignoring God why would He answer her? She had stopped praying, stopped believing, yet her heart cried out to Him now. Save
this child.
Unable to locate Kayla on the side where she had fallen, Cheryl took a deep breath and ducked under the fence that divided the tank. Her fingers touched a small hand. Quickly, she pulled the child to her and stood. Water streamed down her face as she gasped for air, but she cradled Kayla’s limp body against her chest.
Sam galloped into the yard and reined his horse to a sliding stop beside the corral. He kicked free of the stirrups, vaulted out of the saddle and over the fence in a single movement and hit the ground running.
Cheryl slogged through the water and handed Kayla into his reaching arms. He took the child and gently laid her on the ground.
“She was on the fence,” Cheryl panted. “She fell and hit her head.”
Stepping out of the water, she knelt beside him. “I couldn’t find her, Sam. It took so long.”
Kayla’s lips were blue, her skin translucent and pale as marble.
Cheryl felt for a pulse in the child’s neck. Please, God, let her be okay. To her relief, she found one, strong and steady beneath her fingers. The faint rise and fall of her little chest confirmed she was breathing. “She has a good pulse.”
Sam’s own heart began to beat again. “Thank You, Dear God, thank You,” he uttered weakly. “Kayla, wake up, kitten. Can you hear me?”
Kayla’s eyelids fluttered open, and she slowly focused on his face. “Daddy?” she whispered.
It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. He lifted her small body and cradled her close. “Yes, baby, Daddy’s here.” His voice broke, and he rocked her gently.
Wiping the tears from his face, he looked at Cheryl. “Thank you.” He stretched out his hand. She grasped it firmly.
“Daddy, is Kayla okay?”
Sam took one look at Lindy’s frightened face and pulled her close to her sister in his arms.
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