The Color of Forever: Book Two: Forever Cowboys Series (8 page)

BOOK: The Color of Forever: Book Two: Forever Cowboys Series
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“She’s gone out with some nice men but I guess nobody measures up to Patrick,” she went on. “He was a special guy and Maeve adored him. He was her first love and it’s looking like he’ll be her last and only love.”

Ben frowned slightly. “Let’s hope not,” he said. “She sounds like a wonderful person who deserves more than spending her life alone, without love.”

Samantha had to agree with him. Maeve really was a wonderful person who had so much love to give and who deserved to be loved in return.

She stood up and went to refill their coffee cups, making a determined effort to get the conversation on a lighter note. All this gloom and doom was not conducive to seduction or even flirting. And after all, that was the master plan, wasn’t it?

Setting Ben’s cup back down in front of him, she intentionally brushed against his shoulder and let a tendril of her silky hair fall onto his face.

“So, what do you think of the coffee?” she asked him as she sat back down, smiling. “Do I have to eat your hat or is it the best you’ve ever had?”

Ben chuckled, joining in her brighter mood instantly.

“You’re spared from making a meal of my hat,” he assured her. “This is definitely the best coffee I’ve ever tasted. Where do you get it?”

“There’s a tiny shop tucked away on a side street close to my subway stop that sells imported coffee beans. I’ve probably sampled them all but this is my favorite. If I stay long I’ll have to call and order a fresh supply to be sent here.”

Ben smiled widely, bringing those adorable dimples into play again. “Yeah, we sure don’t want you going cold turkey without this fantastic coffee. Maybe you ought to go ahead and order more because I can tell I’m gonna be real partial to this fancy coffee of yours and will be over here drinking it with you every chance I get.”

“The coffee is even better here than it was at home, Ben. I believe it’s the water.” Samantha told him. “It’s so good it tastes better than pricey bottled water, straight out of the tap.”

“Yep. We do have some fine water,” he agreed. “So I guess your city coffee and my mountain spring water make a great combination.”

“Guess so,” Samantha agreed, thinking that the two of them would make a great combination in other ways, as well.

Samantha thought that Ben stopping by often for coffee sounded like a splendid plan and made a mental note to call the next day and put in her order for more beans.

After finishing the second cup of coffee with Samantha, Ben drove home. His thoughts were all of her and what she had gone through. It was bad that her sister’s husband was killed and even worse because of the impact his death had on a young Samantha. Coming so soon after he and her sister married, she didn’t have time to get over feeling a little jealous and resenting her brother-in-law a bit for intruding on their small but close family.

Ben was sure that, given time, Sam would have come to love Patrick as a brother and been 100% glad of his addition to their family. Instead, by his sudden death while she was still harboring feelings that, while normal, made her feel ashamed … she never got the chance to get past those feelings. In fact, Patrick’s untimely death undoubtedly magnified her sense of shame many times over.

Poor kid! He wished there was something he could do or say to make her see that she shouldn’t go on beating herself up over what she had felt at the time of her sister’s marriage and then her brother-in-law’s subsequent death.

In some way, Ben guessed that Samantha actually blamed herself at least to some extent for Patrick’s death. She had resented his presence and then in the blink of an eye, that presence was removed. Being that she was still a teenager at the time and lacked the maturity and wisdom that was acquired with age, allowing things to be put into perspective; she must have felt badly all the way around and in his opinion still felt that way.

He wasn’t an armchair psychiatrist but it seemed clear that Samantha had been carrying a heavy load of guilt and shame all these years. It was bound to have affected her in some ways. He wondered if it had anything to do with why she had never married.

If so, as badly as he felt for her, he had to be grateful for whatever had kept her single and available … for him.

Samantha woke up feeling refreshed and relaxed a few mornings later. She had always had trouble with insomnia but that wasn’t a problem here. She’d slept like a baby every night since she got here. Must be something in the air, she decided. If only she could bottle it and take it back to the city with her when she went home!

Ben was coming by later in the day to take her horseback riding. They had continued with lessons, mostly getting Samantha familiar and comfortable around the horses. She had ridden around the paddock and pasture several times now and was beginning to lose her fear of riding. The first two rides had been her favorite simply because Ben sat her up in back of him in the saddle the first time and then in front of him the next evening.

She had thrilled to the closeness of their bodies and being pressed against him. He was so strong, so sure and confident in everything he did. His confidence and ease around the horses did much to help conquer her own fear and uneasiness about riding. Ben was a wonderful teacher, taking it slowly and not pushing her or pressuring her to go any faster than was comfortable for her.

Even in the midst of her absorption with savoring the nearness of all those male pheromones and Ben’s firmly muscled body, she had relaxed enough to enjoy the horse’s rhythmic gait as they rode slowly along. She was starting to see why Marielle had taken to horseback riding like a duck to water.

Ben had promised to take her on a real ride this evening and show her some of the places nearby that were inaccessible by car or truck.

Samantha was looking forward to it and sensed that somehow, without any conscious effort on her part, she was growing to appreciate nature in all its glory. Maybe she had never considered herself the outdoorsy type simply because she hadn’t had any experience to speak of rubbing elbows with Mother Nature up close and personal, the way she was up here.

She had to admit that the sunrises and sunsets here in the mountains were absolutely spectacular. One of the things she had planned on doing during her forced isolation up here was to sleep until noon every day. Instead, she had been getting up early just to sit out on the front porch and enjoy her coffee while watching the sun come up over the mountains. It was still pretty chilly, but a well loved chenille bed jacket thrown over her pajamas kept her nice and cozy.

Sunrise was a treat, but Samantha liked the sunsets even more. Such a display of vivid colors … orange, gold, deep red … with the mountains as a backdrop and any low lying clouds lit by a radiance that was nothing short of breathtaking.

Samantha had to enjoy a laugh at her own expense. Here she was, waxing poetic about nature when just a few short weeks ago she would have stated uncategorically that it didn’t interest her in the slightest.

So she was a nature lover after all and just never knew it until now.

Would there be any more self discoveries while she was here, she wondered? She had believed that her personality, her likes and dislikes were fully formed and basically set in stone by now. But apparently that wasn’t the case after all.

This sojourn in the mountains might be an experience in self revelation for her in other ways besides discovering that she appreciated the natural world around her more than she previously thought.

Another perk was that her writing was flowing more freely than it ever had. Many authors lived in big cities. She knew that and didn’t see how, on any logical level, leaving New York could have improved her ability to sit down and write something others might like to read. But, logical or not, she was finding it much easier to get the words on paper and express herself in a way that even she—her own worst critic—approved of.

One thing might be a lack of distractions. Back in the city she was constantly interrupted when she sat down to write, by friends or boyfriends who wanted her to go somewhere or do something besides writing.

True, her will power should have been strong enough to resist these constant temptations and time wasters. But all too often her firm resolve to buckle down and work on a book fell by the wayside and she wound up accepting invitations instead of sticking to her plan to stay home and write.

She could see why the road to hell was paved with good intentions.

Standing firm and not allowing yourself to be sidetracked wasn’t something she had been especially good at. Until now, anyway. Although she wanted to visit a lot with Mari, her friend was understanding about the times that Samantha had allocated for writing and didn’t interrupt her. Ditto for Ben. If she told him she planned to spend the morning writing, for instance, he wouldn’t put in an appearance until at least lunch time. His duties as Game Warden kept him busy, but as he had explained, his schedule was flexible.

Why hadn’t her friends in the city been as understanding? Samantha’s eyebrows knitted in thought as she pondered this thorny question.

Were her friends and boyfriends thoughtless and inconsiderate? Was it that they didn’t take her writing seriously? She thought that sounded like the right explanation. Nobody took her desire to write seriously. Except her sister Maeve.

Maeve had always believed in Samantha and had encouraged her to write for years. Maeve had read every short story her younger sister had written during Samantha’s school years, praising her talents lavishly. So had Marielle, who knew Samantha better than anyone else in the world besides Maeve.

Could it be that everyone else in her circle didn’t take her aspirations to become an author seriously because
she
didn’t?

After all, nobody had held a gun to her head and made her abandon a writing project and go out to dinner or dancing or a play. She had been led astray all too easily, so why should anyone have taken her dreams seriously, when she herself didn’t?

But something had changed since she came here. It was a subtle shift, buried deep within layers of her consciousness. The change was slight and only partially formed, but she could sense that in some small, indefinable way she wanted to be better than she had been up until now. She didn’t want to totally reinvent herself, but she did want to make the most of whatever talent she might have and at least try to write.

She wanted to be taken seriously and respected for her talents, such as they may be, instead of just being Sam the good time girl … the party animal who could close all the clubs down and dance all night. Not that there was anything wrong with that, she hastily assured herself. Nothing wrong with having fun. She was still young and enjoyed the bright lights and party crowd and if she did say so herself, Samantha was usually the life of any party.

But, she had begun to experience a vague longing for something more. Something different.

Something better, maybe?

Samantha had believed herself to be happy with her life for the most part. Yes, she had been burned so many times by faithless, fickle boyfriends who adhered to the love ‘em and leave ‘em philosophy that her belief in true love was basically shattered. It might work out for other people, she conceded. People like Maeve or Marielle and her Trey. But she had no hopes anymore of experiencing that kind of lasting love for herself.

Guys liked her well enough but she didn’t inspire any thoughts of settling down and taking that long walk toward the altar. She wasn’t sure why this was so but experience had made a believer of her and convinced her that, for whatever reason, men who were good marriage material weren’t interested in a committed relationship with her.

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