The Rancher's First Love (11 page)

“Well, there's our girl.” Gus looked a little too pleased for Remington's peace of mind.

Samantha must have noticed because she halted and looked back toward the door as if she was thinking of bailing. “I have to be at work but I wanted to check on you first. It looks as if you're in good hands, though.”

“I'll take you over him any day of the week.” Gus motioned her toward the other chair.

Remington had never been sorrier than he was at that moment. “Gus...”

“Rem, I'm just glad to see Sam. She even brought me some magazines to read the other day. The kind with ‘Elvis was an alien' stories. I love those.”

“I'm sure you do.” Remington would give anything to be abducted by aliens at that exact moment.

“I've been wondering,” Gus started. “Why don't the two of you just make up and get married.”

A quick look at Sam proved she was beyond speechless, her mouth actually hanging open. She obviously didn't know his granddad as well as she thought. They said the TIAs and the stroke had taken away his filter. Remington didn't agree. Gus had always been this way, now he just guarded it a little less carefully.

“Gus, I don't think we should be having this conversation,” Remington warned, but he knew Gus wouldn't listen. His granddad should wear a sign warning people that he thought his age gave him the right to say whatever he wanted.

“I'm not sure why we should avoid the elephant in the room,” Gus quipped with a grin that waggled his mustache. “I'd sure like to have some great-grandchildren before I pass on to my eternal reward.”

“I'm not sure it's going to be that rewarding, Gus.”

Samantha laughed and got up from the chair. “Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave the two of you to sort this all out. Gus, take care and make sure you drive them all a little bit crazy.”

He winked at her. “You got it, Sam. And you try to have a better day.”

Remington watched her leave, then turned his attention back on his grandfather.

“You pull a stunt like that again and I'll leave you here to find your own way home.”

With a gnarled hand Gus waved off the threat. “Son, you don't have what it takes to catch that little gal on your own.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Parker told me you don't have game.” Gus eased out of the bed and sat in the chair Samantha had left empty. “I'm not sure what that means exactly but I think it has something to do with the fact that she's here and you're here, but you haven't done much more than aggravate her. Although she did seem a mite happier to see you this morning.”

“We went riding last night. End of story. And I don't think I'm going to take dating advice from a nine-year-old and an eighty-year-old.”

“I'm seventy-nine. And you need to take my advice. That little gal is something special.”

“I know that.”

“Then ask her out.”

He leaned toward his grandfather. “Gus, we have a history that doesn't bear repeating. She's a little gun-shy and I'm not going to rush into something.”

Gus tugged on his mustache and underneath it a grin lurked. “Well, I guess you're smarter than I thought.”

“Isn't that why I'm here?”

Gus chuckled. “Well, you've always been my favorite. Guess that's not a secret.”

“You're my favorite, too. And you'd best take care of yourself because I'm not ready to run that ranch alone.”

“I won't have a choice. That sister of mine told me she's tossed out all the frying grease and my snack cakes. She said I'd best get used to baked food and low-fat everything.”

“Good for her.”

Gus didn't agree, but his argument was cut off by the nurse entering the room. She was a little older than Remington, but Gus didn't seem to mind. He flirted, winked and had her turning three shades of red as she helped him gather up his belongings and explained the doctor's orders.

After Gus had been officially released by the doctor, they headed back to Martin's Crossing. As they drove through town, Gus pointed to Main Street.

“Can we stop at Duke's for coffee? And I wouldn't mind buying a few things at the store.”

The grocery store was directly across from Duke's No Bar and Grill. But Remington was a little suspicious on that front. “What do you want from the store?”

“I'm a grown man with an addiction to cream-filled chocolate cakes.”

Remington laughed at his confession. “Well, I'm not going against Aunt Lee. You take that up with her. But I will take you to Duke's for coffee.”

The diner had quite a lunch crowd that day, forcing Remington and Gus to take a seat with Boone Wilder, Duke Martin and a few others.

“Rem, I'd heard you were back in town,” Boone said as he poured sugar in his coffee. Remington had heard from locals that after a stint in the army and time spent in Afghanistan, Boone and a couple of friends had started a bodyguard-and-security business.

“Yeah, I'm helping Gus at the ranch.”

“You going to be riding this weekend?”

Remington knew he meant the local rodeo. It was a bimonthly event in Martin's Crossing from May through October. This year he'd heard they planned on culminating with a fair and a bigger-than-usual championship event.

“I think so. I've got a nice gelding that shows promise in calf roping.”

Boone nodded and took a sip of coffee that had to be syrup by now, he'd put so much sugar in it.

Ned, the waitress who kept the place going, appeared with a pot of coffee. “Gus, it's good to see you back home. Coffee?”

“Coffee and a piece of chocolate pie.” Gus winked at her as he ordered.

“Gus!” Remington only halfheartedly protested. If a man got to be Gus's age by eating snack cakes and fried food, what would an occasional piece of chocolate pie hurt him?

“I'm having my pie.”

“I know you are.” Remington smiled at Ned. “And I'll take one, too.”

Ned filled both their cups with coffee. As she walked away, Remington returned his attention to the men at the table. Brody Martin wouldn't look at him. Duke glared. He had a bad feeling about that. The last thing he wanted was to tangle with the Martins. But if he had to, he would. Because this time he wasn't letting them run him off. He had as much right to be here as they did.

And he wasn't going to walk away from Samantha.

Chapter Eleven

B
y the time Friday rolled around, Samantha was ready for a day off. She needed groceries, she needed to eat lunch with someone other than herself and she needed fresh air. The day was hers to do with as she pleased. Until evening. She'd promised Lilly they would work their horses in the evening, after the sun went down and it cooled off a bit.

She pulled her truck into an empty parking space in front of the grocery store. Last year it had been bought by a family from Dallas who wanted small-town life. It was now known as Gaston's Market. She was glad the store had remained in business. It was such a part of Martin's Crossing, that wood-sided building with century-old architecture, big windows in the front. The inside was small, just a few aisles and it still had the original hardwood floors. The store also had a meat counter with fresh meat each day.

Before she made it inside, Oregon stepped out the front door of Oregon's All Things. The little store, along with Lefty's, were just to the left of the grocery store.

“Sam, I haven't seen you in ages.” Oregon let the door of her shop close behind her. Her dark hair was pulled back and she wore an apron over a paisley skirt and peasant blouse. Her hands were splattered with paint.

“It has been a while.” Sam drove past Oregon and Duke's house every day. She saw Lilly almost daily. But Oregon was usually busy with the shop or kid stuff.

“We should have lunch. Are you off today?” Oregon said, pausing as a big truck, too loud to hear over, went down the road.

“Yes, I'd love to have lunch.”

It was time for her to become better acquainted with these new sisters of hers. She'd been home a couple of months, and in that time she'd been busy. Too busy to connect with family.

Oregon's eyes widened. “Really? You'll have lunch with me?”

“Did you suggest it because you thought I'd say no?”

Oregon laughed. “No, of course not. I just didn't expect a yes.”

“On my way to town I was thinking it would be nice to hang out with someone.”

“Someone other than my daughter?” Oregon teased.

“Never. I love that girl.”

“She feels the same way. It's been said that the two of you are a lot alike. I was starting to doubt that. You've been so quiet since you've come home.”

There were underlying questions within that statement, which she dodged. “I need to get groceries, then I'll be ready for lunch.”

“If you have anything to keep cold, you can put it in the fridge in back of my shop. Did you know that Kayla is going to be in town?”

“The missing sister is going to make her presence known again? Did she say where she's been?”

“No, just that if she'd wanted to be found, she would have let everyone know.”

Samantha shook her head. Kayla, their half sister, was two years her junior and twice as wild. She had a chip on her shoulder and too much money at her disposal. They didn't know each other that well but Samantha and her brothers worried anyway. Like them, Kayla Stanford had been abandoned by their mother. Her father, a lawyer and aspiring politician, had little to do with his daughter, other than to keep her bank account full. Kayla, as wild as she seemed, did care for the mother who had left them all behind.

“Okay, get your shopping taken care of and when you're ready, we'll go to lunch. I have it on good authority that my husband has homemade French bread for lunch.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Once her shopping was finished, Samantha hurried back to Oregon's, going in through the back door. After storing her groceries in the fridge, Samantha found her sister-in-law in the front of the store with customers who said they'd stopped in Martin's Crossing while on their way to San Antonio. Samantha browsed while they talked. She stopped at a rack of pretty dresses in spring colors.

By the time the customers finished paying and walked out the door, Samantha had her arms full of her own purchases. She walked up to the register and dropped the clothing on the counter.

“I've been shopping,” Samantha said. “If you'd put these behind the counter, I'll pay when we get back from lunch.”

Oregon hung the dresses, skirts and tops on a bar hanging from the wall. “Sure thing. Let's go to lunch.”

They walked across the street and up the steps to Duke's.

“Inside or out?” Samantha asked when they reached the long porch with tables and chairs for outside dining. Ceiling fans mounted on the overhang turned slowly, creating a breeze.

“With the weather this beautiful, definitely out,” Oregon said. “Pick a table and I'll tell Duke we're here.”

“No offense, but tell him he can't join us.”

Oregon gave her a curious look. “Will do.”

When Oregon returned, Samantha had found a table at the far end of the deck. Ned followed Oregon out the door. The waitress carried a tray with water glasses, the coffeepot and flatware.

“Do you gals want coffee?” Ned raised the pot in the air after setting water glasses in front of them. “As warm as it is, I can't imagine drinking the stuff. But who am I to judge?”

“No coffee. I'll take water and I'd like a chef salad and a slice of Duke's French bread,” Sam said, glancing at Oregon.

“The same for me.” Oregon said.

“Okeydokey, salads and French bread it is.” Ned wrote it down and hurried off, faster than any woman her size should move. She was a dynamo. Not only did she work full-time for Duke, but she ran the ranch her parents had left her. She'd been married once, a long time ago. He'd left her and she'd never remarried.

Of course, like most stories there were several different versions when it came to the tale of Nedine and her ex-husband.

After Ned walked away, Oregon sat there for a few minutes, pretending interest in the condensation that dripped down her glass.

“Go ahead, ask.” Samantha tapped a fork on the table to get Oregon's attention.

“Ask what?” Oregon glanced up, making quick eye contact before a hint of a smile touched her lips.

“You have questions you want to ask me?”

“Oh. Yes. Questions.” Oregon leaned forward. “Duke was up late the other night. He saw Remington's truck leaving your place.”

Ned returned with salads and a basket of warm French bread.

“Here you go, ladies. Anything else?”

“No thanks, Ned. This looks wonderful.” Sam grabbed a piece of the bread. She slathered it with butter and took a bite, closing her eyes to savor the taste. “My brother is a culinary genius.”

“He is,” Oregon agreed. “Duke is a culinary genius, and an overprotective, overimaginative brother. He made wild assumptions about Remington's truck at your place.”

“He can unruffle those Martin feathers because Remington and I are just friends.”

“That's usually the best place to start.”

“It isn't a start of anything.” Or at least that was what she kept telling herself. She didn't know anymore. “We went riding. There was a full moon.”

“I see.”

She chased away the thoughts and met Oregon's cautious gaze. “Honestly, I don't know what it is between us, Oregon. I just know that I don't want to get hurt again. I can't lose another piece of myself.”

“A relationship doesn't require you to give up anything.”

“Doesn't it?” she asked. “I think it might. I'm very good at losing people.”

Oregon's hand reached for hers, giving it a light squeeze. “Oh, honey, I'm so sorry. Your brothers are big, overprotective idiots. They meant to do the right thing.”

“I know they did.” Suddenly, she felt like she was going to cry. She closed her eyes and breathed deep. “This is why I avoid girl lunches. All of this sharing.”

Soft laughter answered that remark. “That's part of the fun, Sam. We share. We complain together and cry together and laugh together. We get other perspectives. My perspective, if you want it...” Oregon paused.

Samantha nodded. “I think I do.”

“Give Remington a chance. Give your brothers a chance. Give yourself a chance.”

“That's taking a lot of chances.” Samantha didn't mind taking risks. She'd been hang gliding. She'd tried skydiving and scuba diving. She'd gone mountain climbing in Colorado. But taking chances with her heart? Since Remington, she'd kept dating light and easy, nothing serious, nothing that involved getting hurt.

“Speaking of chances. This might be yours.” Oregon inclined her head toward the street. “There's Remington.”

Samantha didn't turn around immediately. She was proud of herself for that little bit of control. A few minutes later Remington came up the ramp, pushing Parker in front of him. The boy waved happily and Remington nodded once.

“Sam, we're going to the park,” Parker announced.

“To the park?” she looked from the boy to Remington.

“We have a basketball and we're going to shoot hoops,” Remington answered, casual, as if it wasn't a big deal. She noticed then that he was wearing shorts and tennis shoes. She also noticed that he had really nice legs.

She cleared her throat. “That sounds great.”

“Will you come with us?” Parker grabbed the wheels of the chair and headed her way without Remington. The man looked a little flummoxed. Samantha liked that look on him. It made him more human.

Why not join them for basketball?

“I'd love to. I have to take my groceries home but by the time I get back the two of you should be finished with your lunch.”

“Awesome,” Parker raised a hand for a fist bump and she obliged as she looked over his head at Remington.

“Day one,” Remington said.

Sam narrowed her eyes, unsure. Then it dawned on her. His twenty-one-day challenge. He thought this was step one in making him a habit.

“It's a game of basketball, Rem.”

“Yes, just a game of basketball,” he agreed. “See you in a little while.”

After he and Parker went inside Duke's, Oregon cleared her throat. “Day one?”

“Oh, it's nothing, just a challenge. I hadn't planned on taking it, but I might,” she answered her sister-in-law but her mind drifted to what it would take to make Remington a habit she couldn't let go of.

She worried it might take less than twenty-one days. Which meant she needed to guard her heart a little more carefully.

* * *

Day one. Remington watched as Samantha made her way down the sidewalk past the Martin's Crossing Community Church toward the town park. It wasn't much of a park. Just a large lawn and a few flowers. There was a swing set, a teeter-totter and a merry-go-round. But there was also a small basketball court. On one end was a basketball net at standard height. The other end had a lowered net for children.

Parker was at what would have been about the free-throw line, taking aim at that basket. He missed, but not by much. The ball hit the backboard and bounced back. He turned and went after it. Out of the corner of his eye, Remington watched as Sam approached, cautiously, as if she might change her mind at the last second.

He wasn't going to let her change her mind.

“Hey, Parker, look who joined us. I say we play a game. Me against the two of you.” Remington shot her a knowing smile.

She narrowed her eyes at him but returned the gesture in a way that appeared more like a challenge. “That sounds like a good plan to me. Parker, what do you think?”

“We'll beat you,” Parker boasted. He had the ball and he passed it to Samantha. “Girls first.”

She caught the ball, spun and took off. Remington went after her, faking to the right and then circling to try to take the ball. She passed to Parker and the kid did a worthy job of dribbling from the side of his chair. The ball hit the wheel and rolled. Samantha grabbed it and gave it a gentle pass to the boy. Parker went in for another shot. This time he made the basket.

Remington cheered and Sam gave the kid a high five, mussing his hair the way he hated. “That's two-zip,” Parker announced with a big grin. “You're going down, loser.”

Remington laughed. “Not so fast. I've got moves you haven't seen.”

Samantha went after the ball, stealing it from him when her nearness made him lose focus for a moment. She smelled good. He wanted to lean in and breathe deep of the outdoors and the fresh scent she wore.

She held the ball as he moved in close to steal it.

She tossed the ball to Parker and gave Remington a light push to get him out of her space but her hands lingered on his shoulders. When their eyes met, he wondered if she felt it the way he did, that connection, as if everything in the past had brought them to this place, together. But no, she didn't. She was fighting too hard to not feel it. But as her hands moved away he saw a flash in her blue eyes, something that indicated she did feel something for him, and denying it wouldn't make it go away.

“Hey, that's a foul.” Parker wheeled around next to them, nine years old and totally unaware.

“Yes, a foul. On your team.” Remington grinned at the woman just a head shorter than his six feet. She backed away from him, taking a sharp breath and putting distance between them.

“Totally foul,” she agreed.

Parker tossed Remington the ball. “Free throw line.”

Remington doubted they were playing basketball by the real rules, but he took the ball and made the shot. Sam grabbed the ball and tossed it to Parker.

“Will you come back to church Sunday?” Remington asked Sam as she moved in place to block him.

She looked surprised by the question. “I hadn't planned on it. I work Sunday nights and...” She shrugged.

“You're not ready?”

“No, I'm not ready. Not for church, or for this.” She stepped away from Parker. “It's not easy, Rem. I definitely can't walk into church being the person you want me to be.”

He took a quick glance at Parker. The kid had taken himself off to throw practice shots. “And what is it I expect of you?”