Rodeo Sweetheart (13 page)

S
am’s eyes fluttered open. She stared at the ceiling in her bedroom as the events of the previous night played in her head. Had it been a dream? She tugged her hand free of the sheets and felt her mouth. No, the kiss had been real. So had the argument, unfortunately.

She sighed as she rolled out of bed and turned off the alarm clock. For once she’d woken before the annoying blare, but the thoughts on repeat in her mind weren’t any easier to listen to. Intrigue and regret chased circles around her heart as she dressed for work. Nice as the kiss had been, it didn’t change her and Ethan’s circumstances. If anything, it made them worse.

Sam pounded down the stairs into the kitchen. Too bad she couldn’t leave her thought process behind as easily as her unmade bed. She snagged an apple from the fruit bowl at the counter. Clara stood by the kitchen sink, busy preparing breakfast for the guests. “Morning.”

“Good morning.” Clara dropped a dollop of biscuit dough on a cookie sheet. “I heard the party last night was a success.”

Sam bit into her apple and wiped at her chin as heat flooded her face. “You could say that.”

Clara stirred the dough before shaping another biscuit. “Good turnout?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Sam chomped another bite, hoping her full mouth would discourage the topic.

But Clara shot a knowing look over her shoulder as she dusted her hands on the apron tied around her waist. “I also heard there was quite a commotion by the barn, around say ten-thirty?”

Sam stopped midchew. The kiss. She forced herself to swallow. “You’re not—”

“Oh, goodness, no.” Clara winked before grabbing the egg carton from the fridge. “I’ve never been one to gossip, but I think that other Ames boy doesn’t live by the same policy.”

Daniel. Sam closed her eyes. If he saw her and Ethan, and was already spreading the word, it wouldn’t be long before her mother—

“Sam Jenson, I have a few questions for you.” Angie’s voice, firm and cold, sounded from the kitchen doorway.

She slowly turned. “I can explain.”

“Explain why you were seen making out with a paying guest in public?” Angie crossed her arms over her chest, her brows knitted over narrowed eyes. “When I said I felt badly that you weren’t able to date, I didn’t mean Ethan Ames.”

Indignation exploded in Sam’s stomach. “How is that any different from Mike fawning over you? Isn’t he a
paying guest,
too?”

Angie’s eyes widened and her arms dropped to her sides in surprise. The motion caught Sam’s eye and she gasped at what was obviously missing from her mother’s finger—her diamond wedding ring. “Mom, your ring—” Sam’s voice choked. No. She couldn’t be ready to move on that fast. Panic gripped Sam’s heart.

Angie’s expression softened, and sympathy filled her eyes. “We should finish this discussion outside.”

Ethan stared at Daniel across the cabin. “I can’t believe you told my dad.”

Daniel crossed his arms behind his head as he reclined against the bed pillows. “I call it like I see it, man.”

Anger burned in Ethan’s gut. “You don’t know what you saw.” Daniel also didn’t know what his telling Jeffrey had done. Or did he? Ethan’s father would probably be banging on the door any minute. Ethan swallowed, trying to control his temper, when all he wanted to do was leap across the worn bedspread and strangle his cousin. “You just did this because you’re jealous. My dad sent you to try to weasel into Sam’s life when I didn’t give him any info about the property. You can’t handle the fact that Sam’s not interested in you.”

Daniel’s eyes flashed and he sat up straight. “That’s not how it seemed when we were dancing.”

Ethan jerked forward a step, and Daniel held up both hands with a chuckle.

“What do you think you’re going to do, cousin? Less than two weeks on a ranch and you’re suddenly so tough?” Daniel stood and faced Ethan head-on. “Just because you can stay on a horse and throw some hay bales around doesn’t make you a cowboy. Or even a real man, for that matter.”

Ethan’s fists balled. “And you think womanizing for your own financial gain makes you a real man?”

“You want to hold up a mirror when you say that next time?”

Ethan’s mouth opened, then shut.

Daniel smirked. “Exactly. We’re cut from the same cloth, cousin. Whether you like it or not.”

No. Ethan refused to believe he could be as cold-hearted as Daniel or Jeffrey. He truly cared about Sam, on a level deeper than Daniel’s attraction to her physical appearance
alone—if he was even truly attracted. Knowing Daniel, it was only the lure of the chase that appealed. Sam definitely wasn’t Daniel’s typical target for romance. If Ethan had been able to hide his feelings for Sam from Daniel longer, his cousin might not have seen her as a challenge. He’d learned Daniel’s competitive nature over the years—an attribute in business, but a coffin nail in personal relationships. Ethan took a steadying breath. “Look, I don’t want to fight.”

“No, you don’t.” Daniel swaggered forward. “I can guarantee that.”

Ethan glared back. How could he ever have considered Daniel a friend? Had Ethan’s own morals ever been low enough that they used to have things in common?

Daniel grabbed his room key off the nightstand. “I’m out of here, man. Good luck with Sam.” He laughed coarsely as he headed for the door. “You’ll need it.” The door slammed behind him with a solid bang.

Ethan stalked into the bathroom and slammed that door, too, just because he could. He bent and rested his forearms against the cool porcelain sink, rubbing his temples with his fingers. This entire project had become impossible. At this point, how could he please anyone? Not Jeffrey, unless Ethan betrayed everything he’d finally found good in himself and destroyed the ranch so Angie would accept their insulting offer. That definitely wasn’t an option. But he couldn’t please Sam, either, especially if she found out why Ethan was really there and where he worked. No wonder she’d been so adamant against a relationship with him, despite the obvious mutual attraction. It was a miracle they were even friends—and by the time this project was over, Ethan would be lucky if she’d stoop low enough to spit on him while passing him on the street.

Unless he got out of it now.

Ethan slowly lifted his head. What would happen if he just cut his ties with the business and abandoned the company? He could confess everything to Sam, beg for her forgiveness, and help find a way to save her farm. He could be her loan, could arrange some form of payment for Noble Star so Sam could bring back the breeding business without having to ride in the rodeo. He could even find himself a place nearby, and live in a cheap apartment until Sam’s farm was back in the black and she felt able to pursue a relationship.

Ethan groaned as reality struck a cold punch. Who was he kidding? Sam would never forgive him for the deceit, even if technically he’d been omitting information about his career, and not lying. But it felt the same to his heart, and it would to hers, too. She’d never forgive him.

Ethan’s head throbbed. It was a nasty game of timing, and the clock kept striking louder and louder. He felt seconds from doomsday, one way or another. Please his father, and not be able to live with his own conscience? Or please Sam and be guilt free—but alone and broke? He’d still have his family in the first scenario, but how long until his father’s love and respect hinged on another unscrupulous business practice? If the target wasn’t Sam and her family, it’d just be some other family, somewhere down the line.

He’d never be free of it.

God, what do I do?
His headache pounded again in his temples and Ethan reached to open the mirrored medicine cabinet for an aspirin. His sleeve snagged the same piece of loose paneling from the other day and he ripped his arm away, too frustrated to care if his shirt tore. The paneling cracked and Ethan winced. Now the wood splintered from the wall and stuck out even farther than before. Great, just
what he needed—to confess to Sam that he’d torn up the cabin’s bathroom.

Ethan tried to press the protruding piece back in place, but it refused to stick. He craned his head and peered around the edge. His eyes widened and he swallowed. He’d been in the real estate industry long enough to recognize the splintered, chipped wood that appeared to spread behind the entire wall.

Termites.

It was chicken to pretend to be sick, but nevertheless, Sam sat on the couch in the living room in the dark, save for the sunlight streaming through the closed miniblinds and the glow of the TV flickering images across the carpet. She adjusted the throw blanket over her shoulders and snuggled into the worn fabric of the sofa. Maybe she wasn’t pretending after all. Watching the home videos of her father made her stomach churn and her forehead sweat worse than if she had a fever.

She’d dug the videos from the box in her room, something else Angie had put away with Wade’s trophies and awards—and now, her wedding ring. Something must have changed in her mother’s heart during the bonfire, and maybe it was good she was able to move on—but that didn’t mean Sam had to be happy that men like Mike were hanging around. Mike would never be Dad.

No one would ever be Dad.

The conversation with Angie on the back steps left Sam’s heart pierced with guilt. She shouldn’t have spouted off at her mother like that, no matter how indignant she’d felt. But the kiss with Ethan had happened so fast. It wasn’t as if she’d planned it. Besides, the odds of someone seeing them by the barn were low—though apparently not as low as she’d thought if Daniel
was busy spreading the word. At least her mom now understood the kiss was an accident, not something they’d planned.

Imagined, dreamed of, yes. But not planned. Still, the thought of running into Ethan or having another argument with her mother left Sam weak and tired. Watching home movies of her father wasn’t exactly going to help, but sometimes, it felt good to wallow.

Sam angled the remote at the TV and lowered the volume. Her father, handsome under a cowboy hat, smiled at the camera, which shook under Angie’s unpracticed grip. His drawl sounded thicker than Sam remembered as he lifted a child version of Sam onto a black speckled pony. “Boots go here.” He pointed to the stirrups and Sam watched herself nervously correct her position.

“Back straight.” Wade winked at the camera. “Now smile, darlin’. This is fun.”

Sam grinned as the younger version of herself waved and beamed with missing teeth. “Hi, Mama!”

“Be careful, honey.” Angie’s tense voice sounded from behind the camera. “Wade, watch her.”

“I’ve got her, honey.” Wade took the lead rope on the pony’s halter and began to walk away. His voice softened. “I’ll always have her.”

A moment later, the camera shut off with a tilted view of the ground and a beep. Sam clutched the remote with both hands, eyes glued to the white-and-black static scratching across the screen. Her heart cracked again for the hundredth time since her father’s death and she didn’t try to stop the tear that rolled from the corner of her eye.

What was she doing? She couldn’t enter the rodeo, couldn’t put herself in the same position as her father had brazenly placed himself. What if something went wrong and Angie had
to go through the same pain all over again? Sam swallowed, and the remote fell from her fingers onto the floor. She couldn’t risk it, not even for the money. She couldn’t put a price tag on her life. There’d been one on Wade Jenson’s, and it was labeled fame and glory. She refused to die for the same.

She had too much to live for.

Relief flooded Sam’s heart in waves, healing the cracked surface and washing away the crevices of fear. She closed her eyes as more tears dripped off her cheeks. She wouldn’t enter the rodeo. There had to be another way to find the money she needed for the breeding business, just like her friends had been trying to convince her. God would provide, wouldn’t He? Could she trust that, for once?

Ethan’s face filled Sam’s mind and her eyes opened abruptly. She sat up straight and untangled the blanket from her legs. Her thoughts raced with figures and numbers and she nodded slowly. Ethan—the proverbial spur in her side—might be the answer to her prayers after all.

E
than slipped away from his parents’ cabin, the screen door banging in his wake. He quickly scaled the stairs toward the main house, hoping to find Sam. He’d snuck in his parents’ suite and with a quick tug of a pry bar he’d borrowed from the barn, confirmed the termite damage was in their cabin, too—which meant the little critters likely resided in all of them. They’d need a professional to tell, but it was an obvious problem that wasn’t going away.

His heart sank as he mentally compiled the tally sheet for that level of repair. It’d be costly for Sam and her mother, to put it mildly. Talk about bad timing. Here she was risking her life to earn money at the rodeo and this setback would probably take a huge chunk of the winnings—if she even placed in the event. What if she didn’t? How would they get by? If the Jensons’ credit cards were already maxed, it was safe to assume any savings were also depleted. Maybe their insurance coverage would be enough—if they’d been able to make their payments in light of their current trouble.

He reached the main house and hesitated at the bottom
step, one hand grasping the warm staircase railing. Sam had to be inside—she hadn’t been at the barn or saddling up the horses with Cole for the morning ride. But was Ethan ready to see her? Their kiss still burned in his memory hotter than the sun now coating his back. He couldn’t look at Sam and pretend he didn’t feel what he felt. Not that it was exactly a secret, after his verbal confession the night before. Still, one rejection was enough—he couldn’t take seeing a second one in her eyes.

Ethan took a step forward, and the stair creaked under his weight. Sam had a right to know what was happening to her family’s property. This could change everything for the worse for Sam and Angie financially. At best, it would be a giant inconvenience. They’d have to shut the ranch down for weeks if not longer to do the repairs and construction. That’d be loss of income on top of the cost of repairs.

He backed off the step onto the ground, his boots hitting the earth with a thud. Right now, he was the only one who knew about the damage. It’d be a matter of time before it was evident, of course—but if he told Sam and Angie, Jeffrey would find out, as well, when word spread about the ranch temporarily shutting down. It’d be the perfect ammo for his dad to barge in, guns blazing, and convince Angie to sign on the dotted line. Knowing the extent of the damage, Angie would then consider Jeffrey’s insultingly low offer a good one, not realizing how little termite damage mattered to a developer with a bulldozer waiting to level the property for a strip mall.

A light in the front window of the house clicked off and Ethan eased away from the house, his heart pounding loudly in his chest. Maybe he should keep quiet about the discovery for now, until his family went back to New York—
hopefully
without
the contract in hand. Then he could call Sam and tell her privately so they could take care of the repairs. There’d be less chance of Jeffrey finding out and ruining things for Sam’s family that way. Maybe by then he’d have given up on the property and turned his business sights elsewhere.

Ethan turned and headed toward the barn to try to catch the morning riders before they left for the trail.

Sam clutched her handwritten paper with sweaty palms as she hurried down the porch steps. Hopefully Ethan would be back from the morning ride by now and she could pitch her plan. She hadn’t talked to him since their kiss at the barn the night before and he was probably wondering where she was and if she was avoiding him. Awkward as it would be to face Ethan, she had to do it—for the ranch. She pushed aside the other, scarier reason hovering in her heart. It didn’t matter what she wanted personally with Ethan. She would enlist his help for the sake of her family, for her father’s memory—that was it.

She trudged toward the barn, her boots stirring up the dry Texas dust from the grass. Okay, so maybe it was for more than just the ranch or for her dad’s honor. But she’d never been the fairy-tale type growing up. As a girl she was more interested in the horses pulling Cinderella’s carriage than the princess doll, but something about Ethan sparked the desire to be rescued. Every girl needed a knight at some point in their life—even if hers drove a silver sports car instead of a silver steed.

Sam couldn’t help but grin at the thought of Ethan on a horse in period clothing. Prince or not, he would help her. He obviously had the finances to do so, and if the confession of his feelings last night was true, then he’d want to. Besides, he’d mentioned not too long ago that he would be willing to
help her figure something out if she’d just avoid the rodeo. He wouldn’t have forgotten the offer—would he?

Her stomach twisted with equal parts nerves and hope, and the paper in her hand bunched under her tight grip. She’d worked out the figures and how much she’d be able to give Ethan back monthly until the debt was paid. It’d take a while, but if the breeding business boomed again as it should, then it would be worth it. Ethan might brush off the offer of repayment, but she couldn’t let him. Even if they were dating, she’d insist on returning the money.

Sam paused on her way to the barn. Dating? Yeah, right. But the idea draped over her heart like a cozy, familiar blanket and she took a moment to bask in the inner warmth. Her and Ethan—ridiculous on all accounts. Yet people made long-distance relationships work every day. Who was to say they couldn’t give it a try? With Ethan’s wealth, he could travel as often as he wanted.

You don’t even know what he does for his money.
Sam shook her head, the fantasy fading to the back of her mind even as the hope lingered. Attraction or not, love or not, it would never work. They were too different. So why was her heart still pounding at the mere idea? Maybe it was worth at least talking about with him.

Ethan’s muffled voice sounded from inside the stables and Sam picked up her pace, eager to see him.

“I can’t believe you would keep something that important from me.” Jeffrey Ames’s voice boomed from inside the shadows of the barn and Sam instinctively stepped away. She peered around the edge of the door frame. Jeffrey’s bulky figure and Ethan’s trimmer one was just made visible at the other end of the barn, in front of Wildfire’s stall. Ethan held a bridle in one hand as if he’d been in the process of untacking the gelding before talking to his father.

“I just found out this morning,” Ethan snapped in response, and Sam winced.

Jeffrey’s arms crossed over his middle and he seemed to grow even taller. “You could have found me. Daniel did. Don’t you know this changes everything?”

Ethan mumbled something Sam couldn’t catch and she leaned closer, ears straining.

Jeffrey’s head shook. “She’s gotten to you, hasn’t she?” The words came out more like a statement than a question. Sam eased back around the white frame. Was she the one he referred to? She had to be. Who else had Ethan met while in Appleback? But why did it matter to Ethan’s dad?

Jeffrey continued. “You’ve forgotten why we’re here, Ethan. Why
you
are here. Daniel has once again done your job, and done it well. So you can quit the love act with Sam. It’s accomplished nothing.” He snorted. “I should just give Daniel all the commission from the sale of this ranch, but your mother would never allow it.”

Sam recoiled from the door, dread clenching her throat. She sucked in her breath, and the shadows inside the barn darkened until even the sunlight around her seemed dim. Ethan had been pretending to care for her. The friendship, the chores around the farm, the kiss—all of it was to buy her family’s ranch.

Ethan started talking, but Jeffrey interrupted him. “You better get your head out of the clouds and start focusing on what’s important. Your business is at stake. I didn’t make you head of the real estate division of Ames Development for you to slack off.”

The earth tilted toward her and Sam braced her weight against the barn wall. Somewhere behind her, a horse nickered, but it sounded as if from a tunnel. That explained why
he’d been so secretive about his job. Ethan had used her. She should have known never to trust him. And after she’d confided in him about her father, and the rodeo—no wonder he tried to talk her out of riding! If she won the prize money, the farm wouldn’t need to be sold. Surely her mother didn’t know what Ethan and his dad were up to. Angie would never keep something like that from her. They were a team.

Regret rose in Sam’s heart. It wasn’t exactly teamlike of her to keep the secret of the rodeo from her mother. She shoved aside the guilt. Part of her wanted to run to her room and cry, the other part—the survivor part that’d kept her going these years since her dad’s death—wanted to storm into the barn and tell Ethan exactly what she thought of him and his manipulative family. Her fists clenched and the carefully prepared finance plan scraped into her palm. The pain jerked her back to reality.

“Dad, listen.” Ethan’s voice cut through the barn. “Let me explain.”

Sam shook her head and she fisted the paper into a ball. Ethan’s words weren’t directed at her, but it didn’t matter. She’d heard plenty. Sam hurled the paper wad at the barn wall as hard as she could and hurried back toward the house, tears blinding her eyes. She wasn’t sure what made her the most upset—feeling naive and immature for not seeing the deception coming, or knowing that the ranch might very well be sold out from under her.

She swiped at her tears before throwing open the screen door on the porch. Or maybe the reason for the sob in her throat was because any potential relationship with Ethan was now officially gone.