The Rancher and the Redhead (15 page)

“You're good for him, I'll bet. He's a lucky man.”

“And you're still the sweet-talkin'-est bull rider I ever saw.” Her smile was warm. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“A little of this and that. You know, business, personal appearance, make the hometown crowd happy.”

Travis pulled his mecate reins through his gloved hand, and Roni noticed his movements were stiff. She remembered what Krystal had said about his rodeo injuries and wondered just how serious they were. Battered or not, though, Travis King was still a fine-looking specimen of a man, and Roni was sure that he had a passel of “buckle bunnies” waiting on the sidelines for him in every rodeo town.

“Well, Flat Fork loves to hail the conquering hero,” she said. “Ought to be fun for you.”

He chuckled, but there was an ironic twist to his lips. “Some hero. Look, I put a business proposition to Sam a while back. Tell him it's still open if he changes his mind.”

Roni bit her lip and nodded. “I will, but...”

“Yeah, I know. He's a stubborn cuss.” Travis indicated Diablo. “You need any help with his tack?”

“I can handle it, thanks. And Sam will be here soon.”

“I'll get moving, then. You take care of yourself.” He pulled his hat brim again.

“You, too, Travis.”

She watched him remount, noting again a certain hesitation in his movements that did not bode well for his continued career as a top bull rider. Something told her that is was time for Travis King to hang up his spurs. Turning to unsaddle Diablo, Roni shook her head. What was it about stubborn men, anyway? Sometimes it seemed they never learned.

The rest of Roni's party caught up with her just as she finished wiping Diablo down. They left the horse tethered with a full feed bag and then adjourned to the Jaycee barbecue stand for an early supper.

Later, before the rodeo, Roni and Carolyn pushed Jessie around the midway in her stroller while Jinks and Sam strolled behind, occasionally trying their hands at the carnival games in an attempt to see who could win the biggest teddy bear for Jessie. When the men decided to throw baseballs at milk bottles and Jessie was happily going around and around on a tiny tots airplane ride, Carolyn gave her daughter another news report.

“Jackson called again this week.”

“Did you give him my message?” Roni asked, waving at Jessie as she made another loop.

“Yes, but he didn't sound too happy.”

“Do you know what's nice about all this, Mom?” Roni grinned. “I couldn't care less about Mr. Dial's problems.”

“Anyone with eyes can see that married life agrees with you.”

“It's Sam who agrees with me. He's perfect. We're perfect.”

Carolyn's answering smile flickered. “That's as it should be, honey. But you'd best remember Sam's just a man like any other. Marriage is hard enough work as it is. Don't go building up expectations of perfection. You're bound to be disappointed.”

“And you're bound to be a worry wart. I guess that comes with being a mother. I'm finding that out. But don't worry, everything with Sam and me is fine, just fine.”

Reassured, Carolyn hugged her daughter. “Of course. Look, there's Krystal. Haven't those boys of hers grown?”

Krystal and Bud and their three towheaded sons joined the group, and after a few more rides, they all made their way into the arena and found seats on the board bleachers just as the sun disappeared behind the horizon and the first evening star appeared in the darkening sky.

“Having fun?” Sam murmured in Roni's ear.

“Yep.” She settled Jessie in her lap and innocently placed her hand on Sam's knee.

Covering her fingers, he rubbed them suggestively up and down his denim-covered thigh. “But not as much fun as we'll have later, right?”

She cast him a provocative look under her lashes. “We'll have to see how the night progresses.”

“Promises, promises.”

“Only for you, cowboy.”

They stood as the announcer introduced the mounted color guard and the playing of the national anthem. Afterward, they cheered and gasped as the rapid-fire events unfolded—calf roping and steer wrestling, barrel racing and bronco busting. Midway through, the announcer's voice boomed over the speakers, demanding that everyone give a Flat Fork howdy to one of their own, two-time champion bull rider Travis King.

Roni noticed instantly how Sam stiffened and his eyes narrowed as Travis stepped out from near the chutes to wave his hat at the crowd and take a bow. Roni wondered for a moment if Travis intended to compete in the upcoming bull riding events, then was relieved when he merely headed for the media box at the top of the bleachers. But she didn't like the hard look in Sam's eye as he watched his competitor for Buzz Henry's contract mount the stairs.

“Travis is moving kind of slow these days, isn't he?” she asked.

“One too many rank bulls, I guess.”

“He was nice enough to give me a hand with Diablo earlier.” Bouncing Jessie, who was becoming more fractious by the minute, Roni turned to warn off Krystal's youngest. “No, honey, she's had enough cotton candy. It'll make her sick.”

“Here, let me.” Sam lifted the tired and sticky baby and settled her against his broad shoulder. The other members of the group were engrossed in the bull riding.

Relieved of Jessie's weight, Roni sighed. Leaning on her elbows onto the seat behind her, she fixed her husband with a questioning look and spoke in a low tone. “Why don't you consider his offer, Sam? He said to tell you it's still open.”

His jaw grew taut. “You know why.”

“Yes, but when are you going to let it go?”

“We've been over this ground, Curly.”

“Okay, okay. But to cut off your nose to spite your face is pretty damned childish, don't you think? Especially considering circumstances at the Lazy Diamond.”

“You let me worry about that. It's not your concern, all right?”

“No, it's not all right!” She sat up straight, frowning. “We're partners, aren't we?”

He rubbed Jessie's back, chuckling. “After the last few days, I'd say more than that.”

Flushing, Roni responded with an angry hiss. “I don't mean just in bed! I'm a part of this family, too. You've got to let me in if this is going to work.”

“Honey, as far as I'm concerned, it's working just fine.”

“But—”

Bending his head, he silenced her with a swift kiss, a shocking thing for a private man like Sam Preston to do in such a public place.

“Now, now, you two.” Krystal's teasing voice broke them apart. “There are children present. Set an example.”

“Yeah, Sam,” Bud joked. “Show me that move again. Like this?”

Bud bussed Krystal soundly, breaking up the group with laughter and receiving a playful slap from his giggling wife for his efforts.

After that, the talk turned general again, so Roni had no option but to let Sam's remarks pass. They niggled at her, however, filling her with a nebulous uneasiness. As close as she and Sam had become, she knew that he held something of himself back at all times, as if he didn't trust her to be completely on his side, and the knowledge hurt. And although she did trust Sam, and knew she could always depend on him, in a chilling sort of way his withholding of himself was more in the mold of Jackson Dial than she cared to consider.

Jessie fussed against Sam's shoulder, drawing Roni's attention. “It's way past her bedtime. I'd better take her home.”

After bidding everyone good-night, Sam walked his ladies across the pasture parking lot to Roni's Jeep. The plaintive melody of the carousel carried over the muted roar of the people still enjoying the midway.

“I'll bring Diablo's trailer when I come,” Sam said. “Don't worry if I'm late. I'm going to try to get another word in with Buzz after things finish up here tonight.”

Roni buckled Jessie into her car seat. The little girl murmured drowsily and fell instantly asleep. “Do you think he might be ready to make a decision?”

“I hope he already has—in favor of the Lazy Diamond. But I'm not about to let Travis King get a jump on me if he hasn't.”

“Oh, Sam.” With a disappointed sigh she slid into the driver's seat.

“Look, I'm not in the mood for another lecture, okay?”

There was a tension and a sharpness in Sam's voice that surprised and wounded her. But they'd all had a long day, and she knew that now wasn't the time for her to push a resolution of the uncertainties that still remained in their relationship, much less his unresolved feelings toward Travis King.

“Whatever you want, Sam,” she murmured, starting the engine.

He leaned in through the window, his features softening. “I want
you,
Curly, but duty calls.” He dropped a quick peck on her lips. “Keep your fingers crossed, and maybe when I get home tonight we'll really have something to celebrate.”

* * *

If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all....

With an angry flick of his wrist, Sam turned off the truck radio, killing the country singer's mournful crooning. He filled up the empty space with a string of curses that didn't let up until he parked the truck and horse trailer beside the barn back at the Lazy Diamond. Climbing out, he cast a quick look toward the ranch house. A single light shone, but he could hardly bear to look at it. God, what was he going to tell Roni?

Slamming the truck door, Sam gave the rear tire a savage kick of pure frustration. Buzz Henry's hope-destroying words still rang in his ears.

Sorry, Sam, but I got to go with King's outfit this year. Maybe next season...

By next season it could be too late. Sam unchained the rear of the horse trailer and walked Diablo free. His hands lingered on the animal, soothing and praising without words, and the stallion wickered softly, butting his forehead against Sam's shoulder. Sam felt like a traitor.

“Sorry, ole buddy. Old Man Henderson's been after me to buy you for years. Looks like I don't have much choice now.”

With a slap on the rump, Sam turned the horse into his corral and latched the gate, a simple enough chore, but the normalcy of his actions was totally at odds with the blasted, barren terrain inside his soul. Adversity was supposed to make a man stronger, wasn't it? Well, Sam was just tired. Tired of struggling, tired of fighting, but what the hell else was he supposed to do? The Lazy Diamond was his life.

But it wasn't just him anymore. No, Roni and Jessie were his responsibilities, and Roni sure as hell hadn't signed on just to find out the ship was sinking. A cold, clenching fear settled in his gut when he thought of her reaction. Well, his back was truly against the wall, and he'd have to retrench if he hoped to salvage anything out of this mess. The problem was, at the moment he didn't have an inkling what to do next.

But that was nothing new, either. For years, he'd been hiding his fears and his worries, drawing from some unknown source of strength within himself to keep going. His mouth twisted. Sam Preston, strong and silent and stalwart. What a damned joke. But there was nothing for him to do now but play out the hand. Drawing a steadying breath, Sam squared his shoulders and went to the house.

He found Roni at the kitchen table engrossed in some kind of letter. She wore one of those damnable silky kimono robe things, and, from the way his heart lurched, probably nothing under it. Her dark hair was loose, falling down her back the way he liked, and her bare feet curled over the rungs of the kitchen chair. At his entrance, she looked up with an abstracted smile.

“Hi. I waited—” Her expression snapped into focus, and she sat up, alarmed. “What is it? What's wrong?”

Sam grimaced. So much for keeping up a stone face to spare her the bad news. She'd read him like a book. Jaw clenched, he hooked his hat on a peg and turned to her with the bald truth.

“I didn't get the contract. Buzz told me he's giving it to Travis King.”

She blinked, but no words of commiseration or sympathy fell from her lips. Instead, she glanced down at the paper in her hands and said slowly, “That settles it, then. I'm going to Hollywood.”

“J
ust like that?”

Sam looked as though she'd punched him in the gut. With a start, Roni realized what she'd said.

“No, Sam, of course not.” She jumped to her feet, waving the letter. “Let me explain.”

“What's to explain?” The bitterness in his voice chilled her to the bone. “The belt around here gets tightened another notch, and you turn tail and run. Just like Shelly.”

She flushed angrily, but kept her gaze steady. “That was uncalled for.”

“Yeah, well, if the boot fits...”

“Shut up!” She controlled herself with an effort, then spoke between gritted teeth, slowly, as if to a stubborn and none-too-bright child. “I've had a job offer. A very lucrative offer. One that will make it possible to keep the Lazy Diamond running. But I'll have to go to California. So now you just leap back over those conclusions you've been jumping to, mister!”

“What job?” he growled suspiciously. “For whom? Doing what?”

“Preliminary art design for a new movie. It's a fabulous opportunity for me professionally. The backers were especially insistent that I come aboard, which is very flattering, and the fee my agent has arranged—” Referring to the letter, she named a figure that still amazed her, a sum that could mean all the difference to the Lazy Diamond. “So you see, it's a godsend. A proverbial gift horse.”

“What's this horse's name?”

She swallowed, for this was the difficult part. “Uh, it's Jackson, Sam.”

“Jackson Dial? As in your former
significant other?
And I'm supposed to go for this idea?” He threw his hands up. “You're crazy. And so is he. Forget it. No way. End of discussion.”

“You're being totally unreasonable.”

“If you think I'll let my
wife
run back to her old lover—”

“Jackson doesn't mean a thing to me anymore, and you know it!” she shouted, infuriated. She shook the letter at him. “Look, this is a way out for us, that's all.”

Sam snatched the paper and ripped it in half, letting the pieces fall to the kitchen tiles. “By God, I can take care of my own without Jackson Dial's charity.”

“It is not charity,” she replied indignantly. “I'm good at what I do, and I earn my fee and then some. And for your information, Jackson isn't exactly thrilled at the situation, either, but
Apache Tears
is winning all kinds of artistic awards and his financiers are insisting I do the work again.”

“How very convenient,” he said with a sneer.

“He's begging me, Sam, and he's so desperate, he's willing to come up to scratch with the money for the first time.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “After all the years I wasted on him, having the shoe on the other foot is very sweet.”

“I'll bet. And now that he finally sees what a gem you are, he'll make good in other areas, I suppose? Too bad you're a married woman.”

Crossing her arms, she glared at him and her voice was deadly quiet. “You say something that asinine again, and I'm going to throw something at you, I swear.”

“Be my guest.” He waved a hand expansively. “Just don't think I'm swallowing any of this garbage about careers and helping out an old flame meaning nothing. There's only one reason you'd even consider this, and that's because you want to. I guess Flat Fork can't compete with L.A.'s bright lights.”

“Oh, you stubborn...
cowboy.
Here's the perfect opportunity to get the Lazy Diamond solvent again. What's wrong with that?”

“I told you, I can take care of my own.”

“Oh, is that what you call this?” Anger sharpened her voice with sarcasm. “Too damn stubborn to throw in with Travis when you could, so now no contract! And too prideful to sell off some land or reduce the stock, because that might show the world you've failed. Well, Sam, you've got a busted truck, no credit and a wife and daughter to support. How's your pride going to feel when the bank forecloses on the Lazy Diamond?”

“That's enough.”

“It hurts to hear the truth, doesn't it?”

“I said that's enough, Curly.”

Her lower lip trembled. “Well, it hurts me, too, Sam. It hurts when you won't treat me as an equal partner. I can help. I
want
to help. Don't you know the Lazy Diamond is important to me, too? My earnings would take the pressure off, allow us to regroup.”

“Not this way. And anyway, I can't believe you'd consider leaving Jessie like that.”

“I could take her with me....”

“Hell, no!”

“I agree it would be unwise to uproot her again. And I'll miss her like everything, but it'll only be for a few weeks. Can't you see, Sam? It's a chance I need to take. Let me do this for
us.
”

His jaw was hard as iron. “I won't have it.”

She looked at him a long moment, blinking back tears. “Do you think you really have a choice?”

“Don't push me, Curly.”

“Sam, please—”

He yanked his hat from the peg and stomped to the door. “I mean it, woman. I'll figure something out, don't you worry, and it won't mean taking advantage of your all-mighty beneficence or selling out to the likes of Jackson Dial, either. You cross me on this, and you'll regret it.”

The door slammed behind him. Roni gulped and pressed trembling fingers to her mouth to contain the sobs that threatened to break something free inside her chest. Stunned by the violence of Sam's rejection of her and her offer, she stood immobile while hot tears streaked down her face.

What was the matter with him? Couldn't he see she was just trying to help? Or did his rejection lie in something deeper, something she'd chosen to ignore in her recent euphoric state?

Doubts assailed her. She'd pushed for the marriage, pushed until he'd had to take her into his bed or deny his very manhood, pushed for him to let her into his heart and
really
into his life. She realized now it was all arrogance on her part, her cock certainty that Sam would come to love her, that he needed her as much as she needed him.

But it was abundantly clear now that there were territories he would never allow her to enter, places inside of him that he held sacrosanct and inviolate. And in the spot where Roni hid all of her secret fears and insecurities, she knew it was because he didn't love her. Desired her, yes. Respected and admired her, perhaps. But willing to drop all of his defenses and let her see him as he truly was, out of naked honesty and love, no.

And the most devastating realization was that there was nothing she could do to make it happen.

A part of her soul shriveled. What was wrong with her that she was unable to evoke the kind of devotion she yearned for from the men she cared about? Was it a genetic tendency? Something in her makeup that made her choose the wrong man again and again? A deficiency in her own feminine nature that attracted the terminally commitment phobic?

Anguished, Roni stumbled to their bedroom and threw herself down on the coverlet.
We're friends,
she told herself as she wept into Sam's pillow. But why hadn't she foreseen that it wouldn't be enough? And that thought kept haunting her....

She came awake at the creak of the bed frame and the feel of his hands on her. “Oh, Sam, I didn't—”

His mouth covered hers, staking a powerful claim as he silenced her. After that, he never let her have breath enough to speak, nor did he say anything himself. Kissing her relentlessly, he stole her thoughts with his caresses, then pulled her beneath him and rode her to a completion so devastating that she cried out again and again as she clung to him.

He held her close as she sank into the exhausted haze of utter satisfaction, but her last conscious thought was a question. Was their cataclysmic joining an act of desperation on his part or hers?

* * *

It was a damned neat trick walking on eggshells in your Western boots, but Sam was fast becoming adept at it. He managed another half smile for something Carolyn was saying and wondered how much longer he could stand the pleasantries of this Sunday lunch with his in-laws.

Rosie's Café was filled with the after-church crowd, families in their Sunday best spilling out of the booths and tables around the minuscule dance floor. He was sure there'd been quite a party until the wee hours following the rodeo, a lot of two-stepping and cowboy romancing and maybe even a fist fight or two, but in the bright light spilling from the front windows the pine-paneled interior looked downright respectable, not counting the neon signs over the long, brass-railed bar advertising various brands of beer.

But Rosie's home-style cuisine was reason enough to draw a crowd at any time. The only sour note was the subtle tension at the corners of his wife's lovely mouth as she coaxed Jessie into another bite of rice and gravy.

“Watch she doesn't choke,” Carolyn warned.

“Oh, Mom, she loves it. Look.” Roni offered another spoonful of well-mashed beef tips and savory rice and Jessie lapped it up like a pro, beating her chubby fists against the tray of her high chair in approval.

Jinks leaned back from his saucer of lemon meringue pie and looked around for their waitress. “Think we could get some more coffee over here? You want another cup, Sam?”

“No, I'm fine.”
Just wound tighter than a two-dollar watch.

He didn't want to appear inhospitable, but he hoped Jinks and Carolyn wouldn't linger since they had the drive back to Austin ahead of them. Sam didn't know how much longer he could be sociable, not with Roni avoiding his eyes and barely sending two words his way since they'd dressed for church and headed to town.

Dammit, hadn't they worked out everything last night? Surely she'd put aside that bone-headed notion about working for Jackson Dial. And from the way she'd responded to his loving, she'd certainly forgiven him for flying off the handle at her. She was
his,
and he had proved it to her over and over, binding her to him in the best way he knew. Then why was she still so sulled up?

Women.
Sam blew out a silent breath and looked across the dance floor to the booth where he and Roni had talked away so many Friday nights.

Things had been a whole lot simpler then when they were just friends. Not that he'd ever regret their becoming lovers, but it sure as hell complicated matters, at least in a woman's mind, giving her ideas and expectations despite anything a man did or didn't say. Maybe that was what was wrong with Roni this morning—her expectations had run head-on into the reality of their life together last night.

Well, a man had to hold on to certain standards or he wasn't much of a man. She'd touched a raw nerve with her talk about losing the Lazy Diamond, but she was wrong to underestimate his determination. There had to be another way to salvage his self-respect, and by God, he was going to find it.

He chanced a swift glance at Roni's averted profile. In her crisp cotton dress with its navy dots and a wide white collar, she was the image of the happy young matron at ease with her family. Only he knew that it was an act. Well, she'd get over her anger soon enough when she saw he wasn't budging on this issue.

Yeah, Roni was smart. She'd adjust. All he had to do was give it a little time.

He needs more time,
Roni thought.

Time to cool off. Time to lower those masculine defenses, so that he could think clearly about the situation. Only, there wasn't a lot of that precious commodity that Roni could give him. Her agent's letter had made it clear Jackson had to have a decision pronto.

If only Sam would be reasonable. Well, she'd give him the rest of the day to stew, she decided, then approach him again tomorrow. Maybe by then his male ego would have deflated enough for him to see the logical benefits of this opportunity. If not...

Roni took a baby wipe from the diaper bag and mopped Jessie's gravy-stained mouth and fingers, playing a peek-a-boo game to keep her from fussing. Lord, she loved this baby! Why couldn't Sam understand that sometimes sacrifices were necessary for the good of a family?

Family.
The word stopped her, made her shiver slightly. Was that what they were? Or had it all been a pretty pipe dream? Fear ballooned in her chest, a frightened idea that she'd totally misconstrued everything. Had finding herself in love with Sam blinded her? Maybe she hadn't realized the connection and intimacy and true partnership she'd believed that Sam was withholding out of his own fear was something that he simply wasn't capable of giving—now or ever—because his emotions had never been truly engaged.

Perhaps Sam still saw this all as a business proposition and, at the moment, one of the junior partners was bucking the will of the corporate boss. It was unclear to Roni whether the powerful way Sam had loved her during the night was an apology or merely an attempt to control her. She shivered again. She didn't really want to know the answer to that.

“Veronica, are you all right?” Carolyn asked quietly.

“Huh?” Conscious that Sam's gaze was upon her, Roni knew he was waiting to see if she'd try to enlist Carolyn's support.

But that wasn't Roni's way. She wouldn't burden her mother with her problems, nor share confidences about the situation until they'd reached some resolution. And that could take some time. Roni forced a smile.

“Sure, Mom, I'm fine. Maybe a little tired. It's been a long weekend.”

“For all of us. Jinks, honey, forget about that coffee. We need to get back on the road.”

After Jinks and Sam wrangled good-naturedly over paying the tab, they all went outside to bid their adieus in the gravel parking lot.

“Wave bye-bye to Grandma, Jessie,” Roni instructed.

The little girl dutifully waved as Jinks and Carolyn drove off, then demanded Sam's attention with a rapid “Da, da, da, da!”

Sam's expression had been rather stern throughout lunch, but now it thawed under Jessie's sunshiny smile.