Rodeo Sweetheart (10 page)

Ethan frowned. “Most people would just say thank you.” He stepped aside to make room for another cowboy exiting the building and crossed his arms over his chest. Was she so prideful she couldn’t accept a little help? A second look at her face proved it wasn’t so much pride as it was embarrassment. His defensive guard lowered.

Sam drew in a tight breath. “You’re right. Thank you.”

“I’m not begging for compliments, Sam.” Ethan fought the urge to pull her into his arms and hug away the wounded expression on her face. “Maybe the declined card was a mistake. It happens, you know?”

She turned away, out of his reach. “It wasn’t a mistake. Trust me.”

“Is your family going to be okay? I know you’re riding to win money for the breeding business again, but I’m talking about basics. Food. Bills. Mortgage.”

Sam kept walking, snagging one of the discarded metal dollies from beside the building and wheeling it toward the stacked bags of feed. “After your family pays us, we’ll be fine.”

Ethan froze on the concrete dock, her words hammering his heart like a construction worker on overtime. Sam was counting on their guest payment to cover their upcoming bills and keep the ranch going, all while Ethan’s family was intending to buy the property out from under them. Angie Jenson might realize why they were there—or partly, anyway—but Sam didn’t have a clue. He’d never even told her his real occupation.

Ethan’s palms sweated and he clenched his fists. Sam might think he was some arrogant city slicker or a naive tourist, but he was worse, much worse.

“D
eclined?” Kate’s eyes widened until her eyebrows practically disappeared into her red hair. She shook her head in sympathy as she readjusted her cross-legged position on the couch. “Sam, I had no idea things were that bad.”

“I checked into it when we got home earlier today.” Sam closed her eyes, temporarily blocking out the yellow, cheery atmosphere of Kate’s cozy renovated farmhouse. If the room was to match Sam’s current mood, it’d have to be painted charcoal-gray—with angry red slashes on the walls. “Apparently our business card was maxed out and we’re two payments late on top of that. How could my mom not tell me?”

“Maybe she doesn’t know.” Kate’s lips twisted as if even she knew the theory was too far-fetched to be truth.

“My mom has always handled our finances, even when Dad was alive. There’s no way she’d forget to make payments. Obviously we can’t afford them, and she kept it from me.”

“Are you going to confront her about it?”

Sam leaned her head against the soft brown couch, exhaustion pinning her body against the leather. “No. I don’t want
her to be even more stressed than she already is. Plus she’ll just try to bring up selling the ranch again.”

“She probably didn’t mean to keep it from you, but just didn’t catch you before you went to the Co-op.”

“Well, I don’t know how she thinks we’re going to pay the next month’s feed supply at this point. Harry didn’t seem very open to the idea of billing us.” Sam pressed her fingers against her temples. “We’re ruining our good name and reputation.”

“I seriously doubt that. Everyone in Appleback loved your dad, and your family. Harry just has to watch out for his own company. He knows you’d never stiff him on purpose.” Kate tossed a blue striped pillow at Sam. “Cheer up. Tell me about Ethan and Daniel.” She grinned.

“What about them?” Sam hugged the little pillow to her chest. “Other than I made a fool of myself in front of Ethan—again. I have to find a way to pay him back for the feed supply. No way am I taking charity from him or anyone else.”

“I don’t blame you. Paying him back is the right thing to do, even if they can obviously afford that and more.”

“No kidding.” Sam sighed. “I just don’t know why I keep goofing up in front of him. It’s supposed to be the other way around. He’d never spent time on a farm, yet he’s turning into a regular ranch hand. Go figure.” She couldn’t even be proud of his improvements because, somehow, buried under all the designer labels and hair gel, Ethan possessed a natural talent for all things ranching. If he ever wanted to start his own farm one day, then he’d have no trouble—with a little help, of course. Every ranch owner needed their own Cole.

“Ethan’s a fast learner, huh? What about Daniel?” Kate’s eyes lowered and she picked at a loose string on the arm of the couch. “I really am sorry I blurted your secret out like that
at the fair. I thought if Ethan knew about the rodeo plans, then Daniel did.”

Sam shrugged. “As long as my mom doesn’t find out until after the competition, it doesn’t matter.”

“So you’re really going to do it?” Kate kept her eyes averted, and Sam ducked down to catch her gaze.

“You think I shouldn’t?” A mixture swirled in Sam’s stomach, one part apprehension, two parts bitterness. Was her best friend against her goals now, too? She couldn’t do this alone. Cole might be on her side, but even that was mostly because he was as tired of the dude ranch as Sam was and wanted a way out.

Kate finally looked up to meet her eyes. “I think you should do what you feel is right. But I would rather Jenson Farms go under than you get hurt or…” Her voice trailed off but Sam didn’t have to wonder where Kate’s train of thought headed. Sam’s own thoughts chugged toward the exact same place every time she mounted Lucy.

“I know my dad died riding a bull. And the irony of it happening at the same annual rodeo I’m entering isn’t lost on me. But I have to do this. For him. For the ranch.” Sam bit her lower lip. “For myself.”

“Then do it.” Kate leaned over and squeezed Sam’s arm. “I believe in you.”

Sudden emotion pricked Sam’s eyes and she swallowed the hard lump rising in her throat. “I’m glad someone does.”

They sat in companionable silence, then Kate jumped to her feet. “We can’t be mushy without brownies. You want one? I made them this afternoon.”

“Sure.” Sam joined Kate in the red-accented kitchen and got a plate out of the cabinet. She knew the details of the house as well as Kate did by now, after all the time they’d spent here
since Kate’s purchase almost two years ago. As happy as Sam was for her friend, she couldn’t help the finger of envy that poked her side every now and then. Of course she was glad Kate had her own place, but Sam wanted freedom, too. Not away from Jenson Farms, necessarily, but away from the stress of chores, money, obligation.

In essence, her life.

Kate scooped a giant brownie onto Sam’s plate. “Big enough?”

“For now.” Sam bit into the chocolate bar. “Perfect.”

“Speaking of perfect.” Kate’s eyebrows wiggled as she chomped into her own brownie. “What do you think of Daniel?”

A wedge of brownie lodged in Sam’s throat and she bent over double, coughing. Kate pounded her on the back. “I guess that’s my answer.”

“No,” Sam croaked. She took the bottle of water Kate snagged from the fridge door and gulped a mouthful. “Went down the wrong pipe.”

“So you don’t have a problem with Daniel?” The hope in Kate’s eyes made the snack churn in Sam’s stomach. “He seems interested in me. I know it’s a little far-fetched—he could have any woman he wanted—but I think he’s sincere.”

Sam brushed at a crumb on her mouth to stall for time. What could she say? That Daniel seemed like a complete sleazeball? That he came across more focused on money and impressions than anything else? That there was an obvious wedge between him and Ethan that Sam couldn’t yet explain? She had no proof to offer other than her instincts. But if Sam warned Kate off Daniel now, she’d look jealous after having just confessed she’d made a fool of herself in front of Ethan. Sam refused to lose the only support she had left.

She raised her brownie to her lips and said the only honest
thing she could. “Daniel Ames would be a fool not to like you, Kate.” Then she bit into her chocolate dessert before she could add any more truth to her statement.

Ethan couldn’t look in the mirror. Every time he did, the image staring back disgusted him. No wonder his father always tried to teach him to keep his personal life and professional life separate. When mixed, they proved combustible.

And someone was about to get burned.

He splashed water on his face, blurring the reflection, and turned away from the bathroom sink. It might be too late already, if his heart had anything to say about it. The first time Sam turned that wildflower-blue gaze on him, he should have known this would happen. How could he have ever thought it’d be okay to keep the truth from her?

His father must be a better teacher than Ethan thought.

Ethan snatched the hand towel from its metal hook. The material snagged a loose piece of paneling on the wall, and he quickly tugged it free. That was the second time that week. He should mention it to Sam to have it fixed before he or the next guests occupying this particular cabin scratched themselves on it.

He quickly wiped his face dry with the torn towel. It wasn’t too late. He could go to Sam right now, confess his real profession and why he was on the ranch, tell her he wanted nothing to do with his parents’ schemes, and hope she’d forgive him.

But the confession still wouldn’t be entirely true. Ethan didn’t want to manipulate Sam’s family, but how could he please both Sam and his father at the same time? Ethan might be ready to step out from the family business of his own accord, but he was no where near ready to be pushed away—emotionally or financially.

Maybe his father would just claim Daniel as his son instead, and Ethan would finally be replaced in every aspect of his parents’ lives. Why not make it official when that’s where Jeffrey Ames’s loyalties seemed to rest, anyway?

Bitterness coated Ethan’s tongue and he reached for his toothbrush, even though he’d already brushed his teeth once that evening. He’d scrub them all night if that meant avoiding lying sleeplessly in bed, contemplating how he’d ever get out of the pit he’d dug for himself. Sure, he could blame his dad for some of the shovelfuls of dirt, maybe Daniel for a few others, but Ethan was a grown man. Despite feeling caged in all his life, he still ultimately made his own choices.

And right now, he had to decide if finally gaining his father’s love and respect was worth losing Sam’s heart forever.

He could push aside his feelings for Sam, and commit to getting the cheapest price possible on the Jensons’ ranch—just as Jeffrey Ames hoped. Only he would go about it honestly, not by means of manipulation. That choice would bring money, the chance for eventual independence from the real estate business, and better yet, it would show his father that Ethan was successful and worthy of respect. And maybe Sam could start over somewhere and be happy.

Or he could be honest with Sam. Tell her the truth and accept the consequences. But that choice would bring only division between her and her mother for the kept secrets, anger at Ethan for being deceitful, and would permanently destroy any chance Ethan had of convincing her he could be worthy of her love.

Ethan left the bathroom and sank on his bed in the cabin. It was early still in the evening, but fatigue clung to the edges of his frayed emotions, coaxing him toward sleep. Daniel’s bed remained empty, typical for a Friday night. He was prob
ably at the lodge again. Thankfully, they hadn’t spoken much since the fair the night before. Ethan wasn’t sure what he would tell his cousin if he broached the subject of the carnival. Encourage Daniel toward Kate in hopes of convincing him to back off the pursuit of Sam? Or just step back and see what would happen naturally?

Ethan flopped back against the bed pillows and closed his eyes, not even bothering to take off his shoes. He was tired of feeling as if his entire life was controlled by his father. Tired of being stuck between choices too hard to make. But most of all, he was tired of his conscience complicating his life.

It’d be so much easier if his moral radar would quit getting in the way. Why couldn’t he just be heartless like his dad and Daniel? It was more than simply being attracted to Sam that made him think twice before following Jeffrey’s orders. It was the entire way his family ran the business. Underhanded schemes, manipulation, shortcuts. When Ethan first joined the company years ago, he was too young and naive to grasp what was happening behind the scenes, until he and Daniel took over the real estate side of the business. By then, it was easier to keep up the heartless rich guy charade that Daniel naturally mastered than demand answers or ethics from his parents.

But a man could only live off the superficial for so long.

Ethan’s eyes opened and slowly adjusted to the dim light of the cabin. Evening shadows fell through the partially open miniblinds, draping his dresser and bedside table in darkness. Night was approaching, and in a few short hours, Sam would be in the paddock practicing on Lucy. He would go watch, be supportive, and try to find a way to keep her safe. It would only be a matter of time before Daniel told Jeffrey about Sam’s plans to win the needed money for that stallion. Daniel
was probably just waiting for the opportune time that would make him look the best. Ethan never once thought he’d be fighting with his cousin for the same girl.

Then again, he never thought he’d be falling for a cowgirl, either.

E
than arrived at the paddock just in time to see Sam slam hard onto the dirt-packed earth. Lucy trotted away, but Sam remained motionless on the ground. “Sam!” Ethan’s heart thundered louder than a horse’s galloping hooves as he ran toward the pen, a prayer leaving his lips for the first time in he didn’t know how long. He scaled the fence, nearly colliding with Cole, who already knelt by Sam. Ethan dropped to the dirt beside him, out of breath. “Is she all right?”
Please, God. She’s the one bit of good I still have in my life.

“I don’t know.” Barely contained panic masked Cole’s face as he gently touched Sam’s cheek. “You okay, kid?”

The full moon made her stark features seem even paler against the deep brown of the dirt. Ethan fought the urge to grab Sam and shake her. She had to be okay. Why wasn’t she moving? His breath hitched.

“Kid?” Cole’s voice wavered.

Sam slowly opened her eyes, then blinked repeatedly. “What happened?”

“You fell off Lucy again.” Cole rocked back on his booted
heels, forearms pressed against his jean-clad knees. He lowered his head and inhaled deeply. “You scared us for a second there.”

Relief flooded Ethan’s senses as Sam struggled to sit up. He gripped her arm to help. Sam winced and reclined back in the dirt. “Maybe I’ll just stay here a minute.”

The worry returned to Cole’s face and he hovered over her once more. “You need a doctor.”

“No!” The harsh word shot from Sam’s mouth like a bullet from a rifle. “I’m just sore. Nothing’s broken.”

“Are you sure?” Cole studied the length of Sam’s body. “Move your legs.”

She complied, somewhat reluctantly, Ethan could see by the frustrated expression on her face.

“Now your arms.”

Sam wiggled her arms at both sides.

“Neck.”

She rotated it easily around her shoulders.

“Pinky toes.”

“What?” Sam sat up, brow pinched. “How could that possibly matt—”

Cole grinned and Ethan let loose the smile he’d been holding once he caught on to Cole’s game.

Sam’s eyes narrowed at them both. “Very funny.” She rubbed her elbows with both hands, smearing dirt up her bare forearms.

Cole shrugged. “Just lightening the mood. But you’re sitting now, aren’t you?” He stood and offered his hand to pull Sam to her feet.

Ethan stood with them, the residue of fear still weakening his legs. That had been close—too close. Sam was crazy to want to do this. There had to be a different way for her to earn some substantial cash. Either she was clueless as to what that
other option was—or another secret lurked that she hadn’t told him yet.

“I’m going to put Lucy up for the night.” Cole gripped Sam’s shoulder. “Holler if you need anything, you hear?” He turned to Ethan without waiting for an answer. “Watch her for me.” He then jogged toward the other end of the paddock after Lucy.

“I don’t need a nanny.” Sam rested her weight against the fence and slid down to a sitting position against the middle rail. She leaned over and braced her head in her hands.

“Good thing, because I’m a horrible babysitter.” Ethan inched down beside her, reaching for her shoulder but withdrawing his hand before he could make contact. She deserved better than concocted sympathy. But somehow he knew his feelings were no longer fake. Not if the full-blown panic he’d felt moments ago was any indication. He hesitated, and then rested his hand lightly on the dirty, rolled-up sleeve of her shirt. “Why are you doing this, Sam?”

At his touch, Sam looked up, but her eyes didn’t seem quite focused. She stared somewhere over his shoulder, as if privately viewing an invisible shadow far away. Ethan turned but the only thing behind them was open pasture, fields of sage green turned silver in the moonlight.

“My dad died riding a bull.”

The words fell from Sam’s lips like a buried confession and the weight of their meaning pressed into Ethan’s chest. He drew a constricted breath. “When?”

“Two years ago.” Sam arched her spine, pressing both hands into the small of her back. She winced, undoubtedly sore from her fall. “At the Appleback rodeo.”

“The same one you’re entering.” The brunt of her situation hit Ethan then, clenching his heart like a brutal fist. No wonder
she’d bristled at his comment of being trampled the other night. How insensitive could he be?

Ethan’s earlier decision to persevere with the pursuit of the sale, regardless of the consequences to Sam, disintegrated before his eyes. Sam couldn’t ride in the rodeo—not because of the potential of winning the prize money and preventing the Ameses from buying her farm—but because in that moment, Ethan knew he couldn’t handle losing her. It was too dangerous. Seeing Sam landing in the dirt like that, inches from Lucy’s horns and hooves, was more than he could handle.

Sam continued on as if she hadn’t just verbally and emotionally drop-kicked Ethan in the stomach. “Dad was a big star when I was younger.” She smiled, still staring into the distance as if she could still clearly view her father across the pasture. “He used to toss his cowboy hat in the air after each winning ride. It was his trademark. Then he’d point to my mom and me in the stands and wink. He always called me his Rodeo Sweetheart, back when I barrel-raced. That’s Appleback’s unofficial title for a female competitor who wins their category.”

Sam’s grin faded and the night breeze tossed a strand of her light hair across her cheeks. Ethan tucked it behind her ear.

“Dad quit the circuit for us.” Her lips pressed together and tears filled her eyes. “Because it was dangerous.”

“Then what happened?” Ethan’s fingers trailed down her arm to gently squeeze her hand. Sam clung to his grip, clearly lost in memory. Somehow, painful as it was, Ethan had the feeling Sam needed to share this as much for her own benefit as for his.

“He was invited back for a hometown tribute, here in Appleback where his fame began. The crowd wanted him to ride one more time, show off for them. He did it, even though my mom told him he shouldn’t.” Sam shuddered. “He was tram
pled. Spent the last few weeks of his life in a hospital bed surrounded by a bunch of machines, all of them beeping, teasing us with the hope that he’d pull through.”

“I’m so sorry.” Ethan’s words sounded hollow to his own ears, completely useless, but what else could he say? He sat in silence, mourning with her for a man he didn’t even know but could safely assume must have been special to have turned out a daughter like Sam. What would it have been like to have such a close relationship with his dad? He couldn’t even picture it. In regards to emotion or affection, his father was as good as dead, too. Only pride and power flowed through Jeffrey Ames’s veins. Not love.

An empty spot inside Ethan opened then, a fresh wound he’d worked for years to scab over. It ripped apart, bleeding regret into the dry places of his heart. If his own father passed away, would Ethan even miss him? He swallowed hard. He couldn’t pursue that thought now, not when Sam was about to make the same mistake her father did. “Don’t do it, Sam. Don’t ride.”

Sam’s blue gaze searched his, studying, seeking, full of restrained emotion. Her lips parted to answer, but Ethan pressed on, seizing the last opportunity he might ever get to change her mind. He could hear the desperation in his voice but couldn’t restrain it. “Let me help you instead. We can work something out. It wouldn’t be charity, I promise. Whatever it takes.”

She tilted her head, eyes narrowing in thought. Ethan held his breath. She was considering it. Was there a chance she’d finally listen to reason?

Across the paddock, the chute gate banged open. Ethan jumped. Several yards away, Cole led Lucy from the makeshift stall into the shadows of the field near the barn. Ethan turned back to Sam but the moment was lost, that thoughtful gaze now replaced by a determined sheen.

Sam stood and squared her shoulders. “I have to do this.” She crossed the paddock, the rigid line of her back further punctuating her statement, her dirt-covered clothes testimony of her resolve. Then she half turned with a scowl. “With or without your support.”

Sam strode away from Ethan, fists clenched, wishing her boots were long enough to kick herself. She couldn’t believe she’d almost let him get to her that way. She’d been
that
close to agreeing not to ride in the rodeo—and for what? Because he’d looked at her so pleadingly? Because his eyes held a hint of romanticism she’d only read about in books? She’d never been the type of girl to fall for such a ploy, and the fact that she nearly had scared her more than bull riding.

She yanked open the door to the house and remembered just in time not to clomp up the stairs. She pulled off her boots and tip-toed up the steps to her room, holding her breath as she passed Angie’s door. At least Sam had jerked back to her senses with Cole slamming the gate behind Lucy like he did. Otherwise, who knew what she’d have agreed to?
Yes, Ethan, I’ll drop out of the rodeo for you. Sure, Ethan, I’ll run away with you.
Sam scoffed. Right. Like he’d even offer.

Would you want him to?

Her traitorous thoughts mocked her as Sam locked herself in her room and reached for her pajamas in the top dresser. She didn’t know what she wanted anymore. The idea of someone arriving to save the day used to sound like a cop-out, a cheesy notion meant only for helpless females in romance novels and low-budget movies. But now, the notion seemed to carry more relief than annoyance. It’d be nice to have the burden of money fall on more capable shoulders for once. Her own were sunburned, bruised and beyond weary.

A verse she’d memorized as a child in Sunday school came to mind as Sam threw back the covers on her bed.
Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

Rest. What a concept. Some days it felt like Sam wouldn’t recognize rest if it jumped up and grabbed her around the neck. She slipped between the cool sheets and buried her head in her pillow, the verse still rolling around in her mind. She wished her family hadn’t been forced to stop attending services regularly in order to run the ranch, or maybe she’d have found some comfort for their current circumstances in the fellowship there.

She rolled over onto her back, turning her head away from the glowing alarm clock numbers.
All ye that labour and are heavy laden.
At least she fit the description required for help. With the exception of her mother and maybe Cole, Sam didn’t think anyone in the city of Appleback could fulfill the prerequisite better. God could take away her burdens, but she had the sneaking feeling He wanted to help her through them instead.

In between snippets of “heels down” and “chin up,” her father had often talked about God. Mini life lessons mixed in with the riding instruction. “God’s not a genie, Sam. When you ask Him for something, it better not be selfish.”

A nostalgic smile turned Sam’s lips. The advice hadn’t stopped her for praying every night for a gold buckle in barrel racing, but it sure helped her appreciate it more when she finally earned it. She was the only girl in the competition who told everyone God had helped her win.

A tear slipped from the corner of Sam’s eye and trailed into her ear. When her father died, she’d lost that childlike passion for her faith along with the passion for life. She still believed in God, of course, and knew better than to push Him away,
too. His comforting arms helped her survive the aftermath of her father’s passing, but sometime after that, she’d grown distant, developed the age-old attitude of “God helps those who helps themselves.” She set out to help herself, all right, and what had that gotten her? A ranch in the red and a lonely existence.

A weight settled on Sam’s chest, pressing her burden even heavier onto her shoulders. She flopped on her side and wiped at her wet cheeks. She really was only a crumbling shell of what she’d once been. Her dad wouldn’t have wanted her to stop living just because he did—so why had she?

Maybe this rodeo would be more cathartic than she’d first thought. Not only could she win the money to save the ranch, but she could honor her father’s memory. Maybe then the pain would lessen just a little, and she could finally move on with her life.

Despite Ethan’s attempts at persuading her otherwise, Sam had to ride. It was more important than ever. If she didn’t, not only would her chances of buying Noble Star disappear, but she feared, so would her very spirit.

Sam closed her eyes, begging sleep to come. To erase the physical memory of landing in the dirt just hours before. To erase the recording of Ethan’s coaxing, pleading voice now looping in her head on repeat. But most of all, to erase the imprint of fire his gentle touch on her arm seemed to brand into her skin.

Ethan Ames, handsome or not, was nothing but trouble for a woman with a goal such as hers. Sam had no time to wait around and be rescued, and unless God intervened, she would have to once again save the day herself.

And if one day some prince offered to sweep Sam off her feet, he sure as shootin’ better be more of a cowboy than Ethan Ames.