The Rancher and the Redhead (17 page)

Powerful corporate moguls mingled with glamorous starlets. Familiar celebrity faces mixed with unassuming media executives with more influence than the president. Roni figured that there wasn't a diamond or a sequin left on Rodeo Drive.

Ro-day-o.
What kind of word was that? What was wrong with plain, old-fashioned
rodeo
with down-home Texas folks and lots of good times? And champagne and strawberries out of a paper cup sure beat this fancy crystal—if the company were right. Still, she had to hand it to the host. When Jackson put on a show, he really knew how to do it.

And she was bored stiff. And homesick. And missing Jessie like mad. And as for Sam...

Jackson was wheedling. “So, if you'll just agree to work out this little problem I have—”

“No.” Roni kept her expression pleasant, but there was steel in her voice that matched the chunky modern jewelry she wore with her plain black sheath. “You've delayed me long enough. I said I'd shmooze with your bigwigs tonight, and I have, so that's it. Be sure to forward my fee to my agent. It's been nice doing business with you. Excuse me.”

Handing a stunned Jackson Dial her glass, she threaded her way through the throngs of the rich and beautiful. She wanted to speak to a couple of people on Jackson's staff who'd been especially helpful. Because, despite the weeks of silence from Flat Fork, despite the hectic schedule to fulfill Jackson's commission, there had been ample opportunity for reflection, and Roni had made her decision. Her heart belonged to Jessie and Sam, and that was where she had to be. She was going home.

Even if Sam never came to love her as she desired, Roni knew now that she had to fight for him, to show him by her actions that she was worthy of his trust and ultimate devotion. Considering Sam's pride, it wouldn't be easy, but she'd find a way to make a life with him. If she were smart and lucky, maybe even a way to break through his shell to the loving man she knew lay underneath.

It was a daunting challenge, fraught with dangers to her heart, and even now the thought of working out their last big disagreement filled her with trepidation and doubt. But they'd made a pact, an agreement to make a home for Jessie, and Roni would keep her part of the bargain to the best of her ability while hoping for the best. What did Corinthians say?
Love beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things.
Loving Sam Preston the way she did, she could give that ideal nothing less that her best. Then, when she came to the end of her life, she would know that it had been worth every effort.

Surrounded elbow to elbow with the gorgeous people in attendance, Roni was speaking to Annie Mitchell, Jackson's dumpy long-suffering secretary, when she realized the older women was no longer listening to her.

“Whoa,” Annie murmured, her gaze tracking something behind Roni's head. “Who's the Marlboro Man?”

Roni cast a disinterested glance over her shoulder, then caught her breath. Sun-streaked blond hair, broad shoulders under a leather Western jacket, bluebonnet eyes—Sam! At the same moment her heart leapt in joyful recognition, her eyes narrowed.

For whatever reason he'd materialized at this glitzy function, he appeared to be enjoying himself immensely. Women surrounded him. The brunette in the cut-down-to-there gown clinging to his left arm was practically in heart palpitations, and the California blonde on his right curled her lacquered red nails around his wrist and threw her head back in a trill of laughter calculated to raise any male's libido. Other would-be starlets were stacked three-deep around him, all vying for his attention.

It was Sam's grin that pushed Roni over the edge. Jealousy ignited a flash of claw-curling, female possessiveness. How dare he induce such a feeding frenzy? Just who did he think he was?

Without making a conscious decision, Roni was moving through the crowd with deadly purpose. Squeezing past a bevy of wannabe cowgirls, she plucked the blonde loose from Sam's sleeve and drove off the brunette with a look like icy marble.

“Back off, ladies. This one's spoken for.”

“Curly.” Sam's voice was a rumbly Texas drawl, and the crowd of females practically moaned in unison. “I've been looking for you.”

“Yeah, I'll bet.” With a glare as sharp as a laser beam, Roni dispersed the horde, then dragged Sam by the arm out of the pit of temptation toward a quieter corner where a bank of two-story windows framed a view of the lights twinkling on the Hollywood Hills.

Infuriatingly, Sam was chuckling under his breath. “Whew, now I see what Travis meant about buckle bunnies.”

“Don't tell me you weren't enjoying that,” Roni snapped. “How'd you get here, anyway?”

Sam jammed his hands into his jeans pockets, his cheek creased in a half smile. “Taxi.”

“Don't play games with me,” she hissed furiously. “You know what I mean.”

“I'm just a simple cowpuncher, ma'am. It's hard for me to think straight when you look so damned beautiful you take my breath.”

Roni opened her mouth, then closed it. What was she doing berating Sam like a fishwife when all she really wanted to do was fling herself into his arms? Yet uncertainty stopped her, for she dared not guess why he was here lest she be disappointed. Then a sudden frisson of alarm hit her.

“Is it Jessie? Oh, God, Sam! What's happened? I—”

“No, honey.” He took a step closer, slanting his palm over the tumbled fall of her riotous curls in a soothing gesture. “Jessie's fine. Krystal's looking after her.”

Roni's lip trembled in equal measures of relief and apprehension. “Then why—?”

“You were right. About Travis and me, that is.”

She shook her head. “I don't understand.”

“We made our peace.”

“Oh, Sam.” Wonderment softened her voice. “I'm glad.”

“Not only that, but we've decided to throw in together, and I think it's going to plug the hole until the Lazy Diamond's back on its feet.”

A sinking sensation lodged in Roni's belly. So he didn't need her money, and all her efforts were for nothing. He'd said all along that he didn't need her help, and he'd been right. Even though it hurt, she was glad for him that the ranch was safe. “That—that's good.”

Sam rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, but King and Preston Stock Company is going to need some capital. And seeing how you're a Preston, and I understand you've got some wherewithal to invest, I was thinking...”

Roni could hardly breathe. “What, Sam?”

“That you might want to go in partners. That is, if you can stand being associated with a jackass.”

She pressed her fingertips to her quivering mouth, hoping against hope that this olive branch symbolized what she thought it did. “I might manage it, if the return on the investment is high enough.”

“Well, there's no guarantees, but the fringe benefits are terrific.” Sam slid his hand under her hair and let his callused fingers caress her nape. “I shouldn't have put limits on a free-spirited filly like you, but I was scared.”

“You? Of what?”

“Of seeing how you sparkle in this world,” he said gravely, indicating the glittery throng with a jerk of his chin. “And of losing you to it. But I think I can get used to sharing you, if you'll just spend a little time with me in mine now and again.”

“It's all I've ever wanted.”

“Then come home, Roni. Jessie needs you. And I miss you like hell.”

Eyes luminous with hope, she looked up into his face. “Why, Sam?”

His laugh was nearly a groan. “You're going to make me say it, aren't you?”

“Only if you can.”

He took a deep breath and framed her face between his hands. “I love you, Veronica Jean. And I'm a damn fool for being too stiff-necked and scared to say so before, but it took a good kick in the head to make me realize nothing—not the ranch, not my pride—is worth losing you. I spent the whole plane trip praying it wasn't too late for us.”

“You never really lost me, Sam. I was already on my way home, because I love you, too, more than anything.”

There was a suspicious glitter in Sam's eyes, and his voice turned husky with emotion. “Aw, hell, Curly, then you'd better come here.”

Their kiss was a coming together, a reunion of two hearts rejoicing in new understanding and truth and commitment. Melting, clinging to her man, Roni never wanted it to end. Then again, if things kept progressing, they were going to be putting on a mighty interesting show for Jackson Dial's guests.

Breathless, she pulled back a fraction. “Could we adjourn this to a more private location? I've got a hotel room, complete with room service and a Do Not Disturb sign, and one or two things I'd like to discuss with you.”

“I thought you'd never ask, ma'am.”

With Roni locked to his side, Sam headed them for the door. She was supremely conscious of the fact that she was the envy of every woman in the room. In fact, she could hear a couple of them gnashing their teeth. It made her want to laugh out loud.

Sam led her outside toward a waiting taxi. “Why the grin?”

“For a man who wasn't sure of himself in this milieu, you certainly have taken the place by storm.”

He shrugged. “It's not so bad, I guess.”

“Well, I see that I'll have to keep you busy at the ranch for your own safety.”

Sam's answering smile was so full of love and promise, it stole Roni's breath. “Curly, I can't wait.”

“M
ommy, Mommy! Look what I got!”

Sam Preston followed his redheaded daughter as she bounded up the porch steps waving her prize. Nearly three, Jessie was a magpie whose russet curls challenged her mother's patience, for no matter what kind of ribbon or ponytail she used, the little burgeoning tomboy obliterated Roni's efforts within minutes. Carolyn said it was poetic justice, in her opinion, because Roni had been just the same.

Jessie tugged at the handle on the screen door, and Sam paused because she was in her I-can-do-it-myself stage and he knew better than to interfere. It gave him a moment to glance around, noting that the old place had never looked better with its fresh paint and the new addition off the side. A riotous mass of marigolds and geraniums filled the flower beds, and a sign that proclaimed King And Preston Stock Company swung from a post in front of the office they'd installed in the barn. Sam could see Angel Morales, feet propped on his manager's desk, talking on the phone.

Sam's chest swelled with pride and satisfaction. Yes, they'd come a long way in the past two years. Business was good, the ranch was thriving and even old Diablo had sired a string of blooded offspring that was the envy of the county.

But the real miracle to Sam was the way he'd grown inside, from a quiet, needy man afraid to express his longing for tender emotions into, he hoped, a loving person able to communicate intimately with the lady who was his heart, his lover and still his best friend. There was one thing Sam knew for sure: loving Roni had changed his life in every essential way.

Jessie swung the door open, triumph written on her face. “Lookit, Mommy!”

“She's probably in the back,” Sam offered. In tiny blue jeans and miniature cowboy boots, Jessie galloped down the hall to the bedroom. Sam peeped around the door frame, and struggled not to laugh. Jessie was bouncing on the bed ninety to nothing, and Roni, apparently fresh out of the bath, stood with her back to him, her curls pinned in a sexy topknot, struggling one-handed into a terry-cloth robe.

“All I wanted was a shower,” she moaned. “Was that too much to ask?”

“Having trouble, Curly?”

Roni whirled, infinite gratitude written on her face, and thrust a blanket-wrapped bundle at him. “Oh, thank heavens. Here, Sam, take your son.”

Sam accepted the infant, smiling down into the chubby face and tickling his chin with a forefinger. At two months, he was growing like a weed and destined someday to be his father's size. “Has Tommy been giving you a hard time, honey?”

“You'd never know it to look at the little angel now that
Thomas
was giving me the very devil five minutes ago, would you?”

Sam grinned and stroked the fine down sprouting at his son's nape. “You know something? I swear we've got us another redhead.”

“I think you could be right. Scary, huh?” Roni swept Jessie up off the bed and whirled her in a circle. “And what did I tell you about jumping on my bed, young lady? How's Mommy's big girl?”

“Look!” Jessie insisted, thrusting the book she held at her mother's nose. “Daddy says it's mine.”

“Omigosh! It came.” Wondering, Roni plopped down in the rocking chair with Jessie on her lap, thumbing through the colorful pages. “It's beautiful.”

“My name,” Jessie insisted, pointing to the cover. “Daddy said so.”

“And he's absolutely right, darling.” Roni smothered her daughter's brow with exuberant kisses, then read the title. “
Jessie's Critters.
Written and illustrated by your mommy.”

“Congratulations, Curly,” Sam said, squatting by the rocker to admire her creation. Settling Tommy against his shoulder, he leaned over and kissed her. “It's great.”

“Mmm.” Pouting slightly, she gave him a sultry look. “It sure is. Could you do that again?”

“Better not,” he teased. “Might lead to something.”

“I'm counting on it, cowboy.”

Sam laughed, his heart full of the wonder of this happy moment. “Know something, Curly?”

“What, Sam?”

“I'm the luckiest cowpuncher on earth.”

And he kissed her again to prove it.

* * * * *

ISBN: 978-1-4592-8680-1

The Rancher and the Redhead

Copyright © 1995 by Suzannah Davis

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