A Wedding Worth Waiting For (11 page)

What would you say now, Mom, if you were
here?

Her mother would have approved of Dylan: of that she was
certain. Like him, she'd been the kind of person everyone was comfortable with,
who made friends without even trying. Samantha had taken after her father, being
more reserved. They'd basked in the reflected light of her mother, happy because
she was happy, listening to her retell the latest tales she'd picked up while
shopping or visiting.

Without her mom there, her father had withered away, unable to
find another center to his life. Sam had pushed on, but how much had been just
going through the motions? Here she was, a grown woman still scared to face the
same old fears. She liked to think she had made some progress, that her mother
would be proud of how hard she'd worked. But her mom, more than most, had known
life wasn't about work or career accolades. It was about family and friends, and
those were the areas Sam couldn't seem to make headway in.

At first, she'd accepted her father's distance. They'd both
been grieving and he'd had the added stress of taking care of an adolescent
girl. She had done her best to be unobtrusive, staying at the library after
school or staying in her room, out of his hair. But he'd sent her away anyway,
and with each passing year the rift between them had grown deeper. No perfect
report card, no scholarship, had been enough to bring back the father she'd once
known, the one who put her pictures on the fridge and bragged about his “smart
cookie.”

She'd hoped this job might be the one thing that could help
them find common ground, but so far even that hadn't worked. He hadn't wanted
her to be a wildlife officer, and no matter how well she did in the academy he'd
refused to change his mind. Even finishing top in her class hadn't won him
over.

And maybe it was time to stop trying. She
was
making progress with the people of Paradise, maybe she needed to
focus on that. If her father came around that would be great, but she was tired
of swimming against the current, and if she was going to keep her head above
water something needed to change. She needed to change.

She wasn't going to give up, she didn't know how. But maybe she
could fight for herself for a change, instead of fighting for his approval.
She'd been living for her father, and maybe even for the ghost of her mother,
for so long it was hard to imagine anything else. But being in Paradise made her
want more. She'd come here hoping to force some connections in order to succeed
at her job, but now that wasn't enough. Yes, she wanted to be a good wildlife
officer, but now, instead of just wanting a means to an end, contacts in the
community, people to help her with her job, she wanted friendship, the kind that
Dani and Dylan had, the kind that Jillian and her friends had. The kind of
friends her mother had once had, so long ago.

Maybe if she took some time to focus on those things, she
wouldn't need her father's approval.

Of course, there was one other thing she wanted, something she
almost didn't dare to think of. But she could dream, and as she finally felt her
eyes drift closed it was Dylan she was dreaming of.

Chapter Eleven

D
ylan dumped the last feed bucket of the morning into the stainless-steel bowl Sam had just washed out. “Chow time, Harry. Come and get it.”

Harry the gopher tortoise blinked once before starting his slow, scratching crawl to his breakfast of greens and chopped vegetables. Before Harry they'd fed a baby alligator, a panther, three skunks, a pelican and an armadillo. His other Saturday volunteer had handled the raccoons, bobcats and an owl.

“He's the last one, right?” Sam coiled the hose as she spoke, looking as gorgeous as ever in a pair of faded jeans and a football jersey.

“Yeah, we're done.” Which meant she'd be leaving, and he didn't want to say goodbye. Not yet. They'd made tentative plans for dinner at a local restaurant, but that was hours away. He didn't want to wait, and he didn't want to put on a show. He wanted something real. “So, got any big plans for the rest of the day?”

She shrugged. “Not really. I may have to break down and hit the grocery store. I'm at that point where I'm so sick of takeout and frozen dinners that I might be willing to risk my own cooking.”

“I guess that means you aren't secretly a gourmet cook.”

She laughed. “Hardly. I can burn water with the worst of them. Another trait I inherited from my father, I'm afraid. But sometimes I just crave a real, home-cooked meal and so I convince myself this time will be different.”

An idea struck him. “What if I could provide you with a home-cooked meal that will leave you begging for more?”

“Are you offering to cook?”

“No. I mean, I could make us something, but what I have in mind is way better.”

“I told you, I'm not in the mood for takeout or a restaurant.”

“Not what I'm suggesting.”

She stopped, and he could tell he had her interest. “Okay, I'll bite. What do you have in mind?”

“Dinner at my family's ranch. They always do a big early supper on Saturdays, with an open invitation for family and friends. It's a beautiful day for a drive, and you can't beat the food. Everything's from scratch.”

She wiped her hands on her jeans. “Thanks, but I'll pass. I'm not exactly dressed for a big family dinner.”

“You look fantastic. Besides, it's a working ranch, not a country club. Everyone comes as they are. You'll fit right in, I promise.”

She leaned against the building, the sun catching the strands of gold that ran through her dark hair. Shoulders slumping, she looked tired and overworked. No wonder—given the long, physical hours she was putting in at her job, plus volunteering daily at the rehab center. Add in the strain of the charade they were keeping up and he wasn't quite sure how she was still standing. She needed a break from everything, and he wanted to give that to her.

Shading her eyes, she looked up at him. “I don't know. It seems a lot of trouble and time without much payoff. I mean, yes, it would be good to have them on my side, but it's your family. Couldn't you just call and put in a good word for me? Or do you think they need to see us together to buy it?”

He bit his tongue, wanting to tell her to just forget about the stupid agreement, but that wouldn't accomplish anything. “Sam, this isn't about trying to convince them of anything. They don't need to think we're dating to be on your side. They'll respect you by virtue of your badge, and if they ever need to report anything they'll call. You don't have to win them over.”

“Then why invite me?”

“Because I think it would be fun.”

She just stared, so he tried again. “I'd like to spend the day with you. And I'd like to show you where I grew up. I think you'll like it out there.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked her in the eye. “As your friend, I'm asking you to have dinner with me and my family. That's all.”

Sam's eyes went wide. Good, maybe that meant she was finally getting it. He wasn't hanging out with her just because of some stupid agreement. He wanted to spend time with her—actually, he wanted a lot more than that—but some downtime, without the pressure of trying to impress anyone or act a part, would be a good place to start.

“Just dinner?”

“Just dinner.” He'd keep his hands in his pockets the whole darned day if he had to. He wasn't going to push her, not when they were making some progress.

“What will you tell your parents about me?”

“I've already told them about you. We talk on the phone pretty often.”

She tensed, crossing her arms against her body. “And what did you say? Did you tell them about our agreement?”

“I did. They don't care about that, although my mom did say it was a shame that you were under such pressure. And that people would come around in their own time.”

“So they weren't shocked? Or offended that I'd roped you into something dishonest?”

He laughed, startling a nearby squirrel, who chattered angrily before returning to his meal of acorns. “Honey, no one thinks you've besmirched my honor, I assure you. If anything, they think I'm taking advantage of you.”

“But how? What are you getting out of it?”

“The company of a beautiful woman, of course.” She rolled her eyes. “I'm pretty sure they think this was all my idea, a way to trap you into spending time with me.”

“And you're sure they won't mind me just showing up?”

“Trust me, they'll love you.” Because Sam, whether she knew it or not, was way too easy to love.

* * *

Sam sat nervously in the passenger seat of Dylan's pickup as they headed out of town. Straight ahead was the arch of the bridge connecting Paradise Isle to the mainland. Out the window on either side stretched the Intracoastal Waterway, a rich ecosystem that served as a breeding ground for fish and birds, as well as a favorite recreational area for the people of Palmetto County. Today there were nearly a dozen boats dotting the calm waters, mostly small fishing vessels, but she spotted one of the Fish and Wildlife patrol, as well. Sam had ended up working the forests and other land areas, but some officers were assigned to the waterways, making sure people followed the law regarding the size and number of fish they could catch. Numerous species had been overfished in these waters but were now making a comeback, thanks to tighter regulations and the hard work of the men and women who enforced them.

Once on the other side of the bridge, the scenery changed from the bright blue of the waterway to the green of the freshwater marshes that dotted this part of the coast. Blue herons, egrets and spoonbills called this area home, and she always tried to keep an eye out for them. Some people loved the mountains or the desert, but when it came to beauty Sam preferred the ever changing landscape of the Florida coast.

Where else could you go from the beach to marsh to grasslands in the span of just a few minutes? And she knew that in a few more miles it would change again, becoming drier, with clumps of oak and stands of pine forest, the perfect environment for white-tailed deer and wild turkey. She patrolled this area often, and the beauty and variety never failed to impress her. Something about the timelessness of it soothed her soul, smoothing down the sharp edges left from day-to-day life.

Leaning her head on the window, she found herself lulled by the motion of the car and serenity of the scenery into a half sleep, dozing until she felt their speed slow. Opening her eyes, she saw that they'd just turned off the highway onto a two-lane road snaking through the woods. About a mile later the paved road turned to gravel and the trees opened up, revealing open pastures dotted with cattle. “Is this your land?”

“My family's, yes. The house is up around the next bend.”

A minute later they turned east and drove under an arching sign that read Paradise Ranch.

“They named it after the island?”

“Yes and no. My grandfather did live on the island for a few years before buying the ranch, but it's more that he considered this part of Florida to be his version of paradise, heaven on earth. It makes for some interesting postal mishaps, but I can't argue with his premise.”

Certainly not. The place was gorgeous, in that rugged old-Florida way. The house itself was a traditional, two-story structure, with a wraparound veranda that was screened to protect against Florida's legendary mosquitoes. Several outbuildings were scattered across the surrounding grounds, as well as a large vegetable garden and what looked like a fire pit.

Dylan drove slowly past the house and parked in the shade of a steel barn next to two other trucks and a fat-tired all-terrain vehicle. He'd barely shut off the engine when a pair of Australian shepherds came running out from the barn. Dylan laughed as they jumped into the bed of the truck, barking and scratching at the rear window. “Jett, Zip, knock it off. You'll scare the pretty lady.”

“No, they won't.” She climbed out of the cab and walked around to the back of the truck. “You guys are quite the welcoming committee, aren't you?” The dogs nearly fell over themselves trying to sniff and lick her, and from the cab she heard Toby whine in jealousy.

“She still loves you, too, you old fool.” Dylan helped the older, small dog down and then stood over him ready to intervene as the two farm shepherds jumped down and investigated the newcomer.

“Who are you calling an old fool?” The gravelly voice came from the shadows inside the barn, where the afternoon sun couldn't quite penetrate. A moment later, a lean, older man stepped out and embraced Dylan.

“Not you, Dad. You never age. I was talking to this old guy.” He pointed to Toby, who was now happily rolling in the dirt with the other dogs.

“And where did he come from?”

Dylan sighed. “It's a long story. Let's say I'm a sucker and leave it at that.”

The older man laughed and slapped him on the back. “You always were. But I'm glad to see you. It's been too long.” He turned to Sam, and offered a weathered hand. “Now then, you must be that wildlife officer Dylan was telling us about. I have to say, you're just as pretty as he said you were.”

Sam felt her cheeks heat. Dylan had told his father she was pretty? Flustered, she took his hand and nearly forgot to say something in return. “Thanks...it's nice to meet you, Mr. Turner.”

“You can call me Ken. And the pleasure is all mine.” He raked Dylan over with his gaze. “Does your mama know you're here?”

“Not yet, we just pulled in a minute ago.”

“Well, you go tell her hello, and then when you get a minute maybe you could take a look at the books with me.” He winked at Sam. “Might as well get some use out of all those fancy degrees.”

“Come one, Sam, let's go introduce you to the rest of the family.” Dylan placed a hand on her back, guiding her toward the house. “Dad, I'll find you once we make the rounds.”

Sam kept pace with Dylan's long strides. “Your father seems nice.”

“He's a good guy. Tough but fair, and so smart it's scary.”

“So you two are close, even though you didn't stay on the ranch like your siblings?” She knew all too well what it felt like to go against a parent's wishes, but she didn't sense that kind of rift between Dylan and his father.

“Honestly, I sometimes think they're glad I didn't stay. Miranda and Seth do a great job, but they can fight like cats and dogs. Add me to the mix and things sometimes got a bit crazy. This way, I can pop in for a visit, then leave before we all get on each other's nerves.”

“That makes sense.” Sibling rivalry was something she'd read about, but as an only child never experienced for herself.

They went up the wide, wooden steps to a screen door that opened onto the shaded patio area. Her first impression was one of comfort. The low eaves kept the hot Florida sun at bay, and paddle fans overhead provided a steady breeze. On this side of the house there were two rocking chairs as well as a cushioned bench swing. Passing them, Dylan led her around the corner to the back of the house, where an oversize picnic table and full outdoor kitchen area dominated the space.

Dylan slowed in front of a set of open French doors, motioning Sam to be quiet. Treading silently, he slipped into the house, where a tall, dark-haired woman was working at the counter with her back to the door. With a grin on his face, Dylan swooped her into a hug, startling a scream out of her.

“Dylan!” She swatted at him, laughing and trying to appear stern at the same time. “One of these days, you are going to scare me to death doing that. Now put me down.”

“Yes, ma'am.” He motioned Sam to come in, and turned back to his mother. “Sam, this is my mom, Adele Turner. Mom, this is Sam, the one I told you about. She's been craving a home-cooked meal—”

“So instead of taking the time to make her one yourself you dragged her all the way out here.” She smiled at Sam, the fine lines around her eyes crinkling with mirth. “I swear, I did teach him to cook. I taught all of them, fat lot of good it did me.”

“We just know there's no sense in trying to compete with the master.”

“Flattery won't get you dinner, but helping might. You can make the salad while I finish this cake.”

“Sorry, but I already promised Dad I'd take a look at the books with him.”

She sighed. “Fine. But don't even try to get out of helping with the dishes later.”

“I can make the salad,” Sam offered. “I'm barging in on your family meal—the least I can do is chop a few vegetables.”

Adele smiled at Sam, then jabbed Dylan in the belly with a wooden spoon. “You see, that's what appreciation looks like. Now go, so Sam and I can talk about you behind your back.”

* * *

Dylan didn't like the sound of that, but he also knew better than to argue with his mother. His dad might look fiercer, but in comparison he was a pushover.

He found his father in the study, sitting at the same desk Dylan's grandfather had used once upon a time. Photos of the family lined the walls, everything from holiday photos to candids taken at the county fair. Dylan's favorite, though, was one of his parents taken after they'd spent the day repairing hurricane damage to the barn. Both were dirty and tired, but the love between them shone through the mud and sweat. They were true partners, able to face anything as long as they had each other.