Song of the West (3 page)

Deciding that a brisk walk was just what she needed to get Jake Tanner out of her mind, she stopped her pacing and grabbed a warm jacket. Moments later she was out the door, gazing around her in delight at the beauty of the starlit Wyoming night. Her breath puffed out in thin white mists as she moved. The air, tinged with frost, carried the aroma of pine, and she drank it in greedily, enjoying the mixed scent of hay and horses and aged wood. She could hear the lonely sound of a coyote calling to the full silver moon. And suddenly she realized that she had fallen in love with Wyoming. The spell of the mountains and plains was on her, and she was inexplicably glad she had come.

***

“Goodness, you were out a long time,” her sister commented as Samantha plopped down in a wingbacked chair in front of the fire a few minutes later. “You must be frozen.”

“No.” Samantha stretched out her legs and sighed. “I love it out there. It's fantastic! I never realized how big the sky was before, and I don't think I'll ever get used to the space, the openness.”

She turned her attention to the powerfully built man sitting next to her sister on the sofa. “I wonder if you appreciate it, Dan, living here all of your life. Even your letters, Bree, didn't do justice to that world out there.” Running her fingers through her hair, she made a small sound of pleasure. “To someone used to traffic-choked streets and huge buildings, all this . . .” Her hands moved in an inadequate gesture.

“You haven't had much of a chance to see anything since you've been here,” Dan observed. “You've been with us a month and you haven't gone a quarter mile away from the house. And that's been mostly to fetch the mail in the mornings.”

“I'll have plenty of time to explore later. I'll be around through the summer.”

“Just the same, we're not having you tied to the house while you're here, Sam,” Dan announced, and sat back against the cushions. “Even the most devoted sister is entitled to a day off.”

“Don't be silly. You make it sound as though I were slaving from dawn to dusk. Half the time I'm not doing anything.”

“We know how hard you're working, Sam,” Sabrina said quietly, glancing up at Dan before returning her gaze to her twin. “And I know the lack of activity is harder on you than the work. I also know how you disrupted your life to come out here and take care of me.”

“Oh, Bree, for heaven's sake,” Samantha began, shifting uncomfortably. “I never would have found out how much I love Wyoming if I hadn't come.”

“Don't try to shrug if off, Sam.” Dan grinned at the embarrassed motion of her shoulders. “We're grateful, and you'll just have to get used to us telling you so. But tomorrow, we're going to show we're grateful instead of just talking about it. We're kicking you out for the day.”

“Huh?” Blankly, Sam blinked at the bland smile before shifting her gaze to Sabrina's serene one.

“That's right.” His grin widened as she drew her brows together. “Tomorrow's Sunday, and I'm staying home with my wife. And you . . .” He pointed a warning finger at his sister-in-law. “You're going to have your pick of the horses and take off.”

Samantha sprung up from her slouched position. “Do you mean it?” Her face was glowing with pleasure, and Dan's smile warmed with affection.

“Yes, little sister, I mean it. It should be more.”

“The dapple-gray gelding,” she began in a rush, ignoring the last part of his comment. “Can I take him?”

“Already inspected the stock, and it appears you know your horses.” Dan chuckled and shook his head. “Spook's a good mount. A little frisky, but from what Sabrina's told me, you can handle him.”

“Oh, I can, and I promise I'll be careful with him.” She sprang from her chair and crossed the room, flinging her arms around his neck. “Thanks, Dan. You are absolutely my favorite brother-in-law, bar none.”

“I think she likes the idea, Sabrina,” Dan commented as he met his wife's eyes over Samantha's head. “In fact, I'd say she's downright pleased about it.”

“And I thought I hid my emotions so effectively.” She gave his cheek a loud, smacking kiss.

“You be ready to start out about nine.” He patted Samantha's slim shoulder. “Jake'll be around, then.”

“Jake?” Samantha repeated. Her smile froze.

“Yeah, he'll be riding out with you. Actually,” Dan continued, “he suggested the idea this afternoon. He thought it would do you good to get out of the house for a while.” He sighed and scratched his dark head, managing to appear sheepish, for all his size. “I'm ashamed I didn't think of it first. I guess I've been a bit preoccupied and didn't notice you were looking a littled tired and hemmed in.”

“I'm not tired,” she denied automatically.

“Hemmed in?” Sabrina offered with a knowing smile.

“A little, maybe, but I'm hardly in the last stages of cabin fever. I'm sure it's very kind of Mr. Tanner to be so concerned about my welfare.” She managed to say his name in a normal voice. “But there's certainly no need for him to go with me. I know he has hundreds of more important things to do with his Sunday.”

“Well, now, he didn't seem to think so,” Dan said. “It was his suggestion, and he seemed keen on the idea, too.”

“I don't know why he would be,” she muttered. “Besides, I don't want to impose on him. We're practically strangers. I can just go by myself.”

“Nonsense.” Dan's refusal was good-natured but firm. “I couldn't possibly let you ride out by yourself just yet, no matter how good you are on a horse. You don't know the country, and it's easy to get lost. There's always the possibility of an accident. Besides,” he added, and his grin was expansive, “you're part of the family, and I grew up with Jake, so you're not strangers. If anyone knows his way around this part of Wyoming, he does.” He shrugged and rested his back against the cushions. “He owns half of it, anyway.” Samantha glanced at her sister for help. Sabrina, however, appeared to be engrossed in her needlepoint.

Frowning at the lack of support, Samantha stewed over her predicament. If she refused Jake's company, she would not only forfeit the opportunity to ride the Wyoming countryside, but she would spoil Sabrina's and Dan's plans for a day alone together. She shrugged in resignation and offered a smile.

“I'll be ready at nine.” She added to herself, If Jake Tanner can stand a day in my company, I guess I can stand a day in his.

Chapter Three

Sunday dawned with a sky as cold and clear as sapphire. The sun offered thin light and little warmth. To her annoyance, Samantha had overslept. Hurriedly, she showered and dressed in forest-green cords and a chunky beige pullover.

Her riding boots clattered on the parquet floor as she hurried from her room and down the hall to the kitchen. She frowned as she reached the doorway. Jake was sitting at the table, enjoying a cup of coffee with the air of one very much at home.

He was, she noted with illogical irritation, every bit as attractive as she remembered.

“Oh, you're here.” Her greeting was hardly welcoming, but he returned it with his slow smile.

“Morning, ma'am.”

“Don't start
ma'am
ing me again,” she said.

He remained silent as she clattered the cups in the cupboard and filled one with the steaming liquid from the pot on the stove.

“Sorry.” She popped a piece of bread in the toaster and turned to offer a peace-offering smile. “My! I overslept. I hope you haven't been waiting long.”

“I've got all day,” he answered, leaning back in his chair as if to emphasize his words.

She drew a slab of bacon and a carton of eggs from the refrigerator. “Have you eaten?” she asked in invitation.

“Yeah, thanks.” He rose, poured himself another cup of coffee and resumed his position at the table. “Dan's already seen to breakfast for himself and Sabrina. They're having it in their room.”

“Oh.” She replaced the items and pulled out the butter.

“Aren't you going to eat?”

“Toast and coffee. I'm not much on breakfast.”

“If you always eat like that,” he observed over the rim of his cup, “it's no wonder you never grew any bigger.”

“For goodness' sake.” She whirled around, brandishing the butter knife. “I'm hardly a midget. I'm five-four, that's tall enough for anybody.”

He held up his hands in mock surrender. “I never argue with an armed woman.”

“Ready?” He rose when she had finished both the toast and another cup of coffee.

When she mumbled her assent, he plucked her jacket from its hook, holding it out so that she had no choice but to allow him to help her into it. She stiffened as his hands touched her shoulders and turned her to face him. Her pulse responded immediately. As if he were aware of her reaction, he began to do up her leather buttons with slow care. She jerked back, but his hold on the front of her coat prevented her from a clean escape.

“You're a pretty little thing,” he drawled, completing his task with his eyes directly on hers. “Can't have you catching cold.” He reached out and plucked Sabrina's dark wide-brimmed hat from a peg and placed it neatly on her head. “This'll keep your head warm.”

“Thanks.” She pushed the hat firmly in place.

“Anytime, Sam.” His face was unperturbed as he pulled his own sheepskin jacket over his flannel shirt and jeans.

On the way to the stables, Samantha increased her pace to a trot to keep up with Jake's long, careless stride. Despite herself, she admired the confident, loose-limbed grace of his movement. He took his time, she noted, deciding he probably did nothing quickly, and more than likely still finished ahead of everyone else.

The dapple gray had been saddled and led outside by a smiling ranch hand.

“Howdy, ma'am. Dan said to have Spook ready for you.”

“Thanks.” She returned his friendly smile and patted the gelding's neck. “But I could have done it. I don't like to give you extra work.”

“No trouble, ma'am. Dan said you weren't to do a lick of work today. You just go and have yourself a good time, and I'll rub old Spook down when you get back.”

Samantha vaulted easily onto the horse's back, happy to feel a mount beneath her again. Riding was an old pleasure, to be enjoyed only when finances allowed.

“Now, you take good care of Miss Evans, Jake,” the cowboy admonished with a conspirator's wink Samantha failed to catch. “Dan sets great store by this little lady.”

Little
again, Samantha thought.

“Don't you worry about Miss Evans, Lon.” Jake mounted his stallion with a fluid motion. Again Samantha noticed that he wasted no time on superfluous movement. “I intend to keep a close eye on her.”

Samantha acknowledged Jake's statement with a wrinkled nose, then, following the direction his hand indicated, set off in a brisk canter.

As the neat cluster of ranch buildings was left behind, her irritation vanished. The rushing air was exciting, filling her lungs and whipping roses into her cheeks. She had almost forgotten the sense of liberation riding gave her. It was the same sensation that she had experienced many times when flying from top to bottom or springing high in a double twist.

They rode in silence for a quarter of an hour. Jake allowed her to fill her being with the thrill of movement and the beauty of the countryside. Wild peaks jutted arrogantly into the sky. The rolling plains below were yellow-green with winter. They rode by Herefords, white-faced and sleek, who noted their passing with a lazy turn of the head before resuming their grazing.

A shape darted across an open field, and Samantha slowed her horse to a walk and pointed. “What's that?”

“Antelope,” Jake answered, narrowing his eyes against the sun.

“Oh!” She halted her mount and watched the animal's graceful, bounding progress until it streaked over a hill and out of her view. “It must be marvelous to run like that, graceful and free.” She turned her unguarded face to the man beside her and found him regarding her intently. His eyes held an expression she did not understand. A strange tingling raced along her spine, like warm fingers on cold skin. The tingling increased, the sensation spreading to settle somewhere in her stomach. Suddenly, his expression changed. The shadows of his face shifted as his lips moved into a smile.

“Someday you will be caught, little antelope.”

She blinked at him, totally disoriented, trying to remember what they had been talking about. His grin increased. He pointed to a large, bare-limbed tree a quarter of a mile away.

“Race you.” There was challenge under the lazy dare.

Her eyes brightened with excitement. “Fine chance I'd have against a horse like that. What handicap do I get?”

Jake pushed his hat back as if to view her more completely. “From the look of you, I'd say you've got a good fifty-pound advantage. That should balance the odds some.”

“No head start?”

“No, ma'am.”

She pouted for a moment, then grinned. “All right, Jake Tanner, I'll give you a run for your money.”

“Whenever you say, Sam.” He pulled the brim of his hat low over his forehead.

“Now!”

She met the gelding's sides with her heels and spurted forward in a gallop. The quiet morning air vibrated with the thunder of hooves. Samantha, her hair flowing behind her, gave herself over to the thrill of the race. She reached the finish just ahead of her competitor and reined in, filling the morning with dusty, breathless laughter.

“Oh, that was wonderful, absolutely wonderful.”

“Any time you want to give up teaching, Sam, you can work for me. I can use a hand who rides like you.”

“I'll keep that in mind, even though I know you let me beat you.”

“Now what makes you think that?” He leaned his arm on the horn of his saddle and watched her thoughtfully.

“I'm not stupid.” Her grin was good-natured and friendly. “I couldn't beat that Arabian in a million years. You, maybe,” she added with a touch of arrogance, “but not that horse.”

“Pretty sharp, aren't you?” he returned, answering her grin.

“As a tack,” she agreed. “And,” she continued, brushing her hair from her shoulders, “I am not a weak female who needs to be placated. With my background, I know how to compete, I know how to lose, and—” she grinned and lifted her brows “—I know how to win.”

“Point taken.” He tilted his head as if to view her from a different angle. “From now on, Sam, we play head-to-head.” He smiled, and she was no longer sure they were talking about the same thing. “I know how to win, too,” he added slowly. They continued at a leisurely pace for a time, crossing a narrow branch of the Medicine Bow River. They paused there for the horses to quench their thirst in the icy water that forced its way over shining rocks with hisses and whispers. At Samantha's request, Jake began to identify the surrounding mountains.

Pointing to the long fingers of peaks at the south, the Laramie Range, he told her they extended from eastern Colorado. The middle section was the Medicine Bow Range, and the Sierra Madre loomed to the west. The vast ranges were separated by broad tongues of the Wyoming Basin. Silver-blue, they gleamed in the sunlight, lacings of snow trembling from their summits.

She had reined in without being aware of her action. “I can never look at them long enough. I suppose you're used to them.”

“No.” There was no laughter or mockery in his tone. “You never get used to them.”

She smiled a bit uncertainly, not at all sure she could deal with this side of him.

“Are there bears up there?” she asked.

He glanced up at the mountains, smiled, then looked back at her. “Black bear and grizzly,” he informed her. “Elk, coyotes, mountain lions . . .”

“Mountain lions?” she repeated, a little nervously.

“You're not likely to run into one down here,” he returned with an indulgent smile.

She ignored the mockery in his voice and looked around her, again awed by the miles of open space. “I wonder if this looked the same a century ago.”

“Some of it. Those don't change much.” He indicated the Rockies with an inclination of his head. “The Indians are gone,” he continued, as if thinking aloud. “There were Arapaho, Sioux, Cheyenne, Crow, Shoshone, all roaming free over the state before the first white man set foot here. Then trappers came, trading with Indians, dressing like them, living like them, and the beaver was nearly driven into extinction.” He turned back to her, as if suddenly remembering she was there. “You're the teacher.” His smile appeared. “You should be telling me.”

Samantha shook her head in mock despair. “My knowledge of Wyoming's history is limited to late-night Westerns.” They were walking their horses slowly, side by side. She had completely forgotten her aversion to the man beside her. “It's impossible to believe the killing and cruelty that must have gone on here. It's so serene, and so vast. It seems there would have been room enough for everyone.”

This time it was Jake who shook his head. “In 1841 more than a hundred and fifty thousand people crossed the South Pass going west, and a few years later, fifty thousand more came through on their way to California looking for gold. This was Indian land, had been Indian land for generations. Game disappeared, and when people get hungry, they fight. Treaties were signed, promises made by both sides, broken by both sides.” He shrugged.

“In the 1860s, they tried to open the Bozeman Pass from Fort Laramie to Montana, and open war broke out. The trail ran through the Sioux hunting ground. The fighting was of the worst kind, massacres, indiscriminate killing of women and children, butcheries by both white and Indian. More treaties were signed, more misunderstandings, more killing, until the whites outnumbered the Indians, drove them away or put them on reservations.”

“It doesn't seem fair,” Samantha whispered, feeling a wave of sadness wash over her.

“No, it doesn't.” He heard the wistful note in her voice and turned to regard her. “Life isn't always fair, though, is it, Samantha?”

“I suppose not.” She sighed. “You seem to know quite a bit about what happened here. You must have had a good history teacher.”

“I did.” He held her curious look with a teasing half-smile on his lips. “My great-grandmother lived to be ninety-eight. She was Sioux.”

Samantha lifted her brows in surprised interest. “Oh, I'd love to have met her. The things she must have seen, the changes in nearly a century of living.”

“She was quite a woman.” His smile faded a moment. “She taught me a lot. Among other things, she told me that the land goes on no matter who walks on it, that life moves on whether you fight against it or flow with it, that when you want something, you go after it until it's yours.”

Suddenly, she felt he was leading her out of her depth, reaching for something she was not sure she possessed. She turned from the directness of his eyes to search the land.

“I'd like to have seen all this before there were any fences, before there was any fighting.”

Jake pointed skyward. Glancing up, Samantha watched the graceful flight of an eagle. For a timeless moment, it soared overhead, the undisputed sovereign of the skies. They moved off again, in companionable silence. “I hope you're getting some fun out of this trip, some compensation for taking care of your sister,” Jake said at last.

“I don't need any compensation for taking care of Bree, she's my sister, my . . .”

“Responsibility?”

“Well . . . yes. I've always looked out for Bree, she's more delicate, more . . . dependent than I am.” She shrugged and felt uncomfortable without knowing why. “Dad always joked that I took my share of strength and half of Bree's while we were still in the womb. She needs me,” she added, feeling compelled to defend what she had always taken for granted.

“She has Dan,” Jake reminded her. “And she's a grown woman now—just as you are. Did it ever occur to you that you have your own life to lead now that Sabrina has a husband to care for her?”

“I'm not trying to take over for Dan,” she said quickly. “Perhaps you can figure out how he could see to her needs and tend to the house and the ranch all at the same time, but I can't.” She glared at him, half in anger, half in exasperation. “What do you expect me to do? Sit up in Philadelphia teaching kids to jump on a trampoline while my sister needs help?”