Samantha’s Cowboy (12 page)

Thank God his uncle had called. Tired of playing tag, Wade cut to the chase. “Where are you?”

“Mexico.”

“We need to talk.”

“I’m arriving in Tulsa on Monday. I’ll see you at the office.”

“You’d better be there or I’m handling this my way,” Wade threatened.

His uncle cleared his throat. “Not a word to anyone until we speak.”
He disconnected.

“What’s wrong?” Samantha stood in the doorway, wrapped in the bedsheet. Hair mussed. Mouth swollen. Heavy-lidded eyes begged him to make love to her again.

“Nothing.” Another lie. He’d examine his guilty
feelings later, not now. “My uncle’s returning from an overseas business trip on Monday.” He traced the curve of her jaw with one finger. “Now, where were we?”

She batted her eyelashes. “Want me to show you?”

He grinned. “Lead the way.”

A
KNOCK ON THE TRAILER DOOR
awoke Sam from a dead sleep. She bolted upright and searched for Wade—his side of the bed was empty. And cold.

“Good morning, buddy.”

“Hi, Dad. Where’s Miss Sam?”

Samantha’s heart warmed at the sound of Luke’s voice.

“She’s sleeping,” Wade said.

“Can I eat breakfast here?”

“Sure. Is Millicent joining us?”

“She made grits but I didn’t like them, so she told me to go eat with you guys in the trailer.”

Cupboard doors opened and closed. “How about cereal?”

“What kind?”

“Frosted Flakes.”

“Okay.”

Sam leaned against the headboard and continued eavesdropping on the two males.

“How’d you sleep last night?” Wade asked.

“Okay, I guess. Millicent doesn’t sleep.”

“What do you mean?”

“I woke up to go to the bathroom and she was sitting in her rocking chair in the dark.”

“Lots of old people snooze in chairs.”

“She wasn’t snoozing, Dad. She was talking out loud.”

“To who?”

“A ghost.”

Oh, dear.
Sam forgot about Millicent’s midnight chats with her deceased husband. Time to come out of hiding before Wade got worked up over nothing. She dressed quickly—a shower would have to wait—and padded barefoot into the kitchen area. “Good morning, gentlemen.” She took a bowl from the cupboard and joined them at the table.

“Hi, Miss Sam. Did you know Millicent talks to ghosts?”

Her gaze collided with Wade’s and her breath caught at the warmth in his eyes. “She’s not talking to just any ghost,” she answered Luke. “Millicent converses with her husband.”

“Didn’t you say he died in the war?” Wade’s attention shifted to the front of her blouse and Sam’s breathing escalated.

“He did.” Fearing she’d launch herself into Wade’s arms if she didn’t get a hold of her emotions, she trained her eyes on Luke. “When an old person lives by themselves for a long time they become lonely. Millicent understands her husband is dead but she’s comforted by believing his spirit lives with her in the cabin.”

“I was right, Dad. Millicent talks to ghosts.” Luke shoveled a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “What are we gonna do today?”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Wade scolded. “We’re heading back to the condo. You have homework to finish and I have business calls to make.”

The last traces of euphoria from their night of lovemaking evaporated at Wade’s statement. Sam wasn’t ready to say goodbye to the Dawson males. “How would you both like to see one of the horses coming to live at the ranch?”

“Cool! Can we, Dad?”

“The horse you’ve been working with at the SPCA?” Wade asked.

“His name’s Blue.” She smiled at Luke. “I’m eager to see how he reacts to children.”

“Let’s go see Blue, Dad.”

Sam offered her sweetest smile, drawing Wade’s gaze to her mouth. His eyes softened and she knew he was recalling their lovemaking.
Please, Wade. Give us a little more time together.

“Why not,” he said.

Samantha’s spirits soared. “Let me grab a quick shower and then we’ll leave.” She disappeared into the bathroom before Wade could change his mind.

T
HE
SPCA
STABLES IMPRESSED
Wade and surprised him at the same time. He had no idea there were so many horses in need of rescuing. Samantha introduced him to Nancy Parker, the facility manager, and after giving the group a quick tour, she left them watching the horses in the paddocks.

“Ready to feed Blue a carrot?” Samantha asked Luke.

“Sure.” Luke followed her to the horse.

Wade stayed out of the way, pleased by his son’s show of enthusiasm for an activity that didn’t involve schoolwork.

“She’s doing great, isn’t she?” Nancy Parker stopped at Wade’s side.

“Samantha you mean?”

The stable manager nodded. “She’s worked with the horses for months and has come a long way.”

Wade wasn’t following the conversation. “Samantha’s been around horses all her life, hasn’t she?”

“After the injury she suffered in high school, she’s had nothing to do with horses. Until a few months ago. I was surprised and pleased to hear she intended to open a sanctuary ranch.” Nancy motioned to a truck and horse trailer entering through the facility’s main gate. “That’s our new boarder. Gotta go.”

Wade studied Samantha with a critical eye, searching for signs of fear or trepidation as she and Luke petted Blue. He saw only confidence and self-assurance. And what injury had the SPCA manager been referring to? He hadn’t noticed any scars or evidence of old wounds when he’d made love to Samantha. The incident with the horse must have been a minor mishap or she’d have told him.

Just because the two of you made love doesn’t mean you’re privy to all her secrets.
But he wanted to be.

Wade’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He checked the number and grimaced. “Hello, Carmen.”

“I realize this is short notice,” Wade’s ex-wife said, “but I need you to keep Luke tonight. He doesn’t have summer-school classes tomorrow because of a teacher seminar.”

“Why can’t you watch him?” No way was Wade missing the meeting with his uncle.

“A fabulous opportunity came along. Remember my friend Sherri?”

No.

“Her husband’s cousin married the daughter of Senator Lewis. Anyway, Sherri invited me to attend a luncheon for the senator’s wife and everybody that’s anybody in Tulsa will be there. I simply can’t miss it.”

Wade allowed his gaze to wander to Samantha and Luke. His son acted more at ease with Samantha than he did with his own mother. If he told Carmen no, she’d simply hire a sitter and go to the luncheon anyway. “Fine. I’ll keep Luke with me and see that he gets to school Tuesday morning.”

“Thanks for being such a dear. Give Luke my love. Bye.”

That was him all right—
a dear.
Wade wondered how long he’d be able to protect his son from figuring out he wasn’t his mother’s top priority. He headed toward the duo, hoping to convince Samantha to allow Luke to spend the day with her tomorrow.

“C’mon, Luke. We’re heading out to buy feed for the horses.” Sam signaled to the construction foreman that she was leaving. The crew had arrived earlier in the morning to finish installing the doors on the horse stalls inside the new steel barn.

Sam ruffled Luke’s hair as they headed toward her truck. She’d suffered a mini heart attack yesterday when Wade had asked if his son could spend today with her while he worked at Dawson Investments. Sam’s ears had rung and she’d barely heard Wade’s explanation about his wife having a prior commitment and Monday being a summer-school holiday. Backed into a corner, Sam had agreed.

How could she have said no without giving a reason why? Sam refused to mention her cognitive shortfalls—not when her and Wade’s relationship had moved from professional to friends to friends with bedroom privileges. Besides, she was all about facing her fears now. She
could
be responsible for a child.

“Hop in the backseat and buckle up, kiddo.”

“Where are we going?”

“To Barney’s.” The old man never took advantage of Sam’s forgetfulness and she rewarded his loyalty by purchasing goods at his store, even though his prices were much higher than the bigger chains.

“Who’s Barney?” Luke asked.

Did all high-IQ kids ask so many questions? “Barney runs a business that sells feed and supplies to ranches and farms in this area. His grandfather opened the store years ago.”

“Why are you buying feed when you don’t have any horses?”

“Remember the nice lady you met at the SPCA yesterday? She needs me to take Blue so she can use his stall for another horse they’re rescuing.”

“Blue’s coming today?”

“Yep.”

“Cool.”

Sam answered Luke’s questions until she pulled into the parking lot of the feed store. When they entered the building a gruff “Who’s there?” greeted them.

Luke edged closer to Sam. “He sounds grumpy.”

“Grumpier ’n a one-eyed cat.” Barney stepped into the open, face twisted in a grimace.

“Barney, shame on you.” Sam patted Luke’s shoulder. “This is Mr. Barney, Luke. Barney, this is Wade Dawson’s son. He’s my sidekick for the day.”

“Don’t look like no sidekick I ever seen.”

Eyes narrowed, Sam studied the boy’s button-down short-sleeved shirt and khaki shorts—a bit wrinkled and dirty after having been worn two days in a row. “You’re right, Barney. Luke needs cowboy duds if he’s going to work with horses.”

Eyes bright with excitement, Luke asked, “I get to dress like a real cowboy?”

“I reckon that’s what she’s tellin’ ya, kid.” Barney motioned for the boy to follow him. “C’mon. I’ll show ya the cowboy gear.”

When they stopped at a table piled high with jeans, Sam removed the list of items she’d written. “I’ll be needing these supplies.”

“Sure thing.” Barney shuffled into the storeroom.

Sam eyeballed Luke’s frame, then dug through the children’s jeans, found a pair his size and held them up to his waist. “Those should work.” Next, she moved to the dusty circular rack of children’s western-style shirts. She selected a long-sleeved blue cotton shirt with miniature brown horses galloping across the front. “Now for a pair of boots.”

“Over there.” Luke raced across the store where boxes of boots lined the wall. “They’re all too big.”

“Junior boots are at the end.” After perusing sizes, she chose a pair of black Ropers. “Take a seat on the stool.”

Luke tugged off his sneakers. Sam helped him with the boots—too big. The next—too small. The third…“Good enough.”

“Can I wear all this stuff right now?”

“Sure. There’s a dressing room over there.” She pointed to the wooden door a few feet away. Five minutes later the boy wore a huge grin.

“You look like a cowpoke, Luke,” Sam said.

He stomped his boot. “You think Blue will know I’m not a real cowboy?”

“Not if you’re wearing a hat.” She held out her hand and Luke slipped his fingers through hers.

The hat selection consisted of straw hats—best for hot summer months. “What color do you prefer?”

Luke tried on black, red and brown. “Black,” he said.

“Black it is.” She tilted the hat a bit forward on his head. “Perfect.” Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a red bandanna. Any cowpoke worth his salt carried a bandanna—whether to clean his six-shooter with, write a farewell letter to his lover on, or shine his boots with.

“Tommy done loaded the feed into the back of yer truck,” Barney announced, when he emerged from the store room.

“Who’s Tommy?” Luke asked.

“Tommy’s my dumb-headed nephew who ain’t got the brains of a jellyfish.”

“Jellyfish don’t have brains,” Luke said. “And they’re not really a fish. They don’t have a head, heart, eyes, ears or even bones.”

“Ya some walkin’, talkin’ encyclopedia, kid?” Barney grumbled.

“Luke’s a smart young man,” Sam boasted, tearing off the price tags from Luke’s new clothes and setting them on the counter. “Put it all on my tab and—”

“Yer personal money manager will pay the bill.” Barney patted his pocket. “Got his card here somewhere.”

“Thanks, Barney.” Sam and Luke left. Not until she parked the truck at the ranch did she breathe a huge sigh of relief that nothing had happened to Luke during their outing. So far, so good.

Before she and Luke had finished unloading the supplies from the truck bed the SPCA trailer arrived with Blue and a second horse.

“Nancy didn’t mention anything about taking Whis
per today.” Sam accepted the mare’s reins from Ken, a stable hand at the SPCA.

“Nancy said they rescued a second horse from a ranch north of Tulsa and hoped you’d agree to keep the mare.” Ken returned to the trailer and unloaded Blue. “Nancy said to tell you that Red’s getting dropped off next week.”

Sam unlatched the paddock gate and she and Ken walked the horse inside.

“Why do you call her Whisper?” Luke asked Ken.

“The mare had a throat infection when she arrived at the SPCA and she neighed so softly you could hardly hear. Now that she’s recovered, she makes more noise than a barn full of donkeys.”

Sam rubbed the mare’s nose, patted Blue’s neck, then left the paddock and locked the gate latch behind her.

Luke strutted over to the fence and stood on the lower rung. The kid hadn’t stopped preening since the workmen in the barn made a big deal over the boy’s new duds.

Sam signed the paperwork, then thanked Ken before he drove off.

“Can I pet Whisper?” Luke asked.

“I’m not sure—” His disappointed face tugged at Sam’s heart. He’d been such a trooper all day—not a word of complaint, even agreeing to eat a granola bar for lunch because she hadn’t had time to cook anything. “Be right back.” Lead rope in hand, she entered the corral and approached Whisper. “It’s okay, girl. I won’t hurt you.” The mare lowered her head and snuffled. Sam rubbed her neck before clipping the rope to the halter. She rewarded Whisper’s cooperation with a
sugar cube from her pocket. “Let’s make another friend, shall we?” She led the mare to Luke, who’d climbed to the top rung of the corral.

“Hold your palm out flat and let her sniff.”

Luke followed Sam’s instructions, giggling when Whisper’s nose tickled his skin. “Now gently pat the side of her neck.” Sam placed Luke’s hand on the mare’s hide.

“Hi, Whisper. Miss Sam’s gonna take real good care of you. I promise.”

Whisper backed up, a signal she’d had enough affection. Sam released the lead rope. “Good girl.” The mare trotted off to the feed bin. “C’mon, Luke. We’ve got work to do in the barn.”

Once inside the new structure Sam gave the boy several chores to keep him busy while she prepared a stall for Whisper. She whistled as she went to work, her confidence growing by the minute. She had no doubt her sanctuary ranch would flourish and she’d prove to herself and others that Samantha Cartwright was capable of managing her own life.

What could possibly go wrong?

“Y
OU LIED TO ME
,” W
ADE SAID
as he waltzed into his uncle’s office.

“Shut the door. I don’t want anyone overhearing this conversation.”

Wade obliged, then sat in the chair facing the mahogany desk, which looked like a prop used in a play—standard pencil holder, yellow legal pad, telephone, Rolodex and computer monitor. Nothing personal such as family photos, soda cans or sticky notes cluttered the surface.

“Samantha Cartwright’s trust fund has been invested in a real estate deal that—” his uncle rubbed his brow “—to put it bluntly failed.”

Wade attempted to voice a protest, but his uncle sliced a hand through the air, cutting him off. “Unforeseen circumstances led to several investors backing out at the eleventh hour. We hadn’t anticipated any opposition and unfortunately we’d already invested Samantha’s entire savings in the project.”

“Since when does Dawson Investments deal in real estate?” And why hadn’t Wade been informed of the company’s new venture? Samantha’s account was
his
to manage, not his uncle’s.

“You know very well that we don’t invest our clients’ money in real estate. But an extraordinary opportunity arose that I couldn’t pass up.”

“What you’ve done is unethical. And illegal.”

“Don’t act so righteous, Wade. If things would have worked out the way they should have the entire company, including your client, would have reaped the rewards.”

“But it failed and Dawson Investments’ reputation has been compromised.” Wade slammed his fist on his uncle’s desk, startling the old man. “How do you plan to recoup Samantha’s losses?”

“There is no plan. Her money was used to purchase the island.”

“What island?”

“In the United Arab Emirates. You may have heard of the famous Palm Islands—eighth wonder of the world?”

“Go on.”

“Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum is de
termined to keep Dubai’s reputation as one of the best tourist destinations, so he proposed the idea of creating several man-made islands that would support luxury hotels, residential villas and shoreline apartments off the coast of the emirate of Dubai.” His uncle left his chair to stare out the office’s floor-to-ceiling windows. “One of the sheikh’s plans is to build three hundred islands in the shape of the world map. Our firm joined with other investors and purchased one of the few remaining islands for sale.”

“What went wrong?” Wade forced himself to concentrate, determined to control his emotions so he didn’t miss crucial information that might be used to help recover Samantha’s money.

“Our partners got nervous when the U.S. economy faltered and they walked away from the deal.”

“They didn’t lose a dime, did they?” Wade said.

His uncle returned to his desk. “I’ve got my top executives searching for new investors, but no one’s taking risks right now.”

Wade didn’t miss the emphasis on the word
top.
If working shady deals was a prerequisite to acquiring an executive position at his uncle’s firm, then Wade had a lot of mulling over to do once the dust settled from this mess. “Did you use any other clients’ funds to invest in this project?”

“No.”

“Why Samantha Cartwright’s money?” There were other clients’ portfolios that rivaled hers.

“Because I never expected she’d demand her money on her thirty-second birthday.”

“Why not?”

“For obvious reasons. Dominick’s hovered over her since the accident and—”

“What accident are you referring to?” Everyone but Wade knew about the
accident.

“You were in college at the time when Samantha was kicked in the head by a horse. I believe it happened shortly after we’d visited the ranch the summer she turned sixteen. She almost died.” He shrugged as if the near-death experience had been nothing. “She was left with memory problems and difficulty concentrating. College was out of the question for her, so Dominick gave her a job in his company to make her feel useful.”

Wade’s mind grappled with the new information. Images flew through his head…All the notes Samantha wrote to herself. Her willingness to allow him to take over her finances without much of a fight. Her not remembering the tree-climbing incident when he’d visited the Lazy River.

“Dominick pays her a generous salary and she lives at home. Hell, there was never a need for her to withdraw any money from her trust fund.”

“Well, you were wrong. She needs her money to turn a ranch she purchased into a horse sanctuary.”

His uncle’s eyes widened. “The girl’s got grit, I’ll give her that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rumor has it that Samantha’s terrified of horses and hasn’t ridden one since the accident.”

Samantha had proved otherwise when they’d visited the horses at the SPCA yesterday. “She’s overcome those fears.” Wade admired her for it.

“Aren’t you the least interested in knowing where
Samantha’s obtaining the money to bankroll her new ranch?” When his uncle remained silent, Wade poked himself in the chest. “Me. I cashed in my 401(k) and used my savings to cover the expenses incurred thus far.”

“If you receive the promotion you’re in line for you’ll recoup your money in bonuses.”

“That’s not the point,” Wade argued. “What about next month’s client financial statements? How do you plan to hide Samantha’s losses?” Wade cringed when he imagined Dominick’s reaction.

“We’ll have to be creative for a while.”

Wade was appalled his uncle would even consider mailing out falsified documents.

“This sanctuary ranch won’t last,” his uncle said. “Samantha’s difficulty in focusing will cause her to lose interest quickly.”

Lose interest? Wade’s chest tightened when he envisioned how devastated she’d be if the ranch didn’t succeed. He hated to see her dreams crushed because of his uncle’s greed. Wade intended to make sure that didn’t happen, starting with telling Samantha the truth. “I can’t in good conscience keep this information from her.” He’d waited far too long as it was and hoped—no, prayed—Samantha wouldn’t send him packing—not after he’d gone and fallen in love with her.

His uncle chuckled. “Sounds as if you have a crush on the woman.”

“My feelings for Samantha have nothing to do with telling her the truth. She’s a client first and foremost and deserves a hell of a lot more honesty from her financial adviser than he’s shown so far.”