Samantha’s Cowboy (13 page)

“Steer clear of her, Wade. Samantha’s more trouble than she’s worth. She’s damaged goods. Even her fiancé could see that and he broke off their engagement.”

The word
engagement
clanged inside Wade’s head. Why hadn’t Samantha mentioned she’d once been engaged? He felt foolish for having discussed his own failed marriage while she’d kept her past relationship a secret.

“Evidently the man left his child in Samantha’s care and something happened to the kid.”

His uncle’s words didn’t scare Wade. He knew deep down that Luke would be safe with Sam. He trusted her to take good care of his son. “My feelings for Samantha are none of your damned business. What matters is that Dominick Cartwright trusted Dawson Investments to safeguard his daughter’s financial security and we—
you
—let him down.”

“When I took you in years ago, Wade, I knew you were smart. You demonstrated that early on after you caught up in school and figured out how to deal with your dyslexia. But I see I’ve been remiss in teaching you something important about the business world.”

“And what would that be?”

“Loyalty. There are times you don’t question the motives or decisions of your superiors. You simply trust that they have the company’s best interests at heart.”

“Our loyalties should lie with our customers whose money allows us to prosper. Without them there would be no Dawson Investments.”

“That’s your mother in you talking, Wade. She was a pushover when it came to helping others. She believed she could change the world one lost soul at a time.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Your father, of course.”

“You’ve known all along who my father is?” If so, why hadn’t his uncle come forward with the information when Wade had been a teenager and had asked about his birth father?

“Zeke was a handyman for the wealthy. If he had a last name he didn’t share it with anyone. He painted our garage one summer and suckered your mother into sleeping with him.”

“What does my father have to do with loyalty?”

“Zeke showed no allegiance toward your mother, leaving her to raise you alone until she died. Then that chore landed in my lap.”

Chore?
Nothing like being blunt.

“I had hoped you’d come to appreciate the opportunities and privileges you’ve received from the Dawson name.”

“I’m grateful for what you’ve done for me.” Wade darn near choked on the words.

“Then show me your gratitude by keeping your mouth shut.”

Wade’s blood boiled. “You’re asking me to break the law.”

There was an unnatural gleam in his uncle’s eyes that Wade had never seen before. “If all goes as planned and we land another partner to invest in our island, Samantha stands to earn millions in profit and you’ll receive all the credit.” He grinned. “And a promotion to executive vice president.”

A promotion in exchange for his silence. Wade felt
ill. All these years he’d believed he’d needed the title behind his name before he could leave his uncle’s company to open his own investment firm. Now he had the opportunity to gain the title—but at what cost, his integrity? Or worse, his relationship with Samantha?

Wade’s cell phone rang and he answered before checking the number. “Wade Dawson.”

“Wade, you have to come out to the ranch right away.” Samantha’s panicked voice startled him.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Luke.”

Heart pounding, he asked, “What happened?”

“He’s missing.”

“What do you mean, Luke’s missing?”

“He was supposed to be helping me in the barn and I got distracted…I can’t remember what I was doing, Wade.” Her voice rose with each word. “When I checked on him, he was gone.”

“I’m on my way.” He snapped the phone shut and headed for the door.

“What happened?” his uncle asked.

“It’s Luke. Samantha can’t find him.” Wade paused in the doorway—half of him needing to ask, the other half fearing the answer. “What happened to the child Samantha watched over?”

“I believe the little girl was bit by a snake.”

“She survived, right?”

“Only because Dominick’s pilot happened to be at the ranch that day and flew the girl by chopper to the emergency room in Tulsa.”

Wade refused to allow his son to suffer a similar
fate. He took the stairs instead of the elevator and rushed from the building, his attention no longer focused on his uncle’s shady business dealings, but on locating his son.

Dear God—it was happening all over again.

Shielding her eyes against the late-afternoon sun, Sam squinted into the distance. Nothing. Nothing but miles of red Oklahoma dirt.

“The boy ain’t dumb. He’ll make out okay ’til ya find him.” Millicent’s words fell far short of reassuring Sam. She and the old woman had scoured the ranch yard from top to bottom, then every nook and cranny in both barns and the trailer. They’d even checked beneath the tarp of Millicent’s vintage car.

“Luuuke!” Sam shouted, the wind carrying his name off. She studied the dilapidated farmhouse. Had he gone inside to explore? Earlier in the morning while she and Luke had eaten breakfast she’d reviewed a list of ranch rules—do’s and don’ts related to Luke’s well-being and safety. The old farmhouse had been on the
don’t
list.

Yesterday when Wade had asked her to watch Luke, Sam should have refused. But she’d wanted to prove to him and herself that she was capable of chaperoning his son. She’d failed miserably—again.

Please, God, let me find Luke before Wade arrives.

Her stomach churned, but Sam refused to succumb to the nausea. “I’m going inside the house.” Millicent didn’t protest, convincing Sam the old woman worried more than she let on.

Sam tiptoed around the collapsed porch steps and entered the house through the front door. She paused in the entry hall, listening for signs of movement. Nothing but wind whistled through the cracks and broken windows. “Luke, are you in here?” She edged toward the stairs, the warped wood floor squeaking beneath her feet.

Cold sweat—the kind spawned by uncontrollable fear—bubbled across her forehead. What if Luke had gone upstairs and had fallen and knocked himself unconscious? She tested the bottom step and her heart jumped inside her chest at the loud crack. Clutching the wobbly banister she climbed the stairs, counting each step—thirteen—until she reached the landing.

“Luke?”
Please answer.
She tiptoed toward the bedroom on her right. A single bed with an iron headboard and a yellow stained mattress occupied the room. The windows had been broken, fragments of glass sparkling in the sunlight that streamed across the floor. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling and animal droppings—probably mice—littered the floor. Sam crossed the room and peered inside a small closet. “Luke?”

No answer. Sam retreated from the room and headed down the hall. She glanced inside the bathroom on the way, wishing Luke had fallen asleep in the claw-foot tub, but the room was empty. When she twisted the knob on the second bedroom door, the hardware broke
off in her hand. Using her shoulder she shoved the door open.

A putrid smell permeated the room—dead raccoon in the corner. This bedroom had no closet, leaving her one final place to check on the second floor—an attic storage compartment at the end of the hall. There was no sign of the boy in the small enclosure. Heart heavy she returned downstairs. When a thorough sweep of the first floor turned up no sign of Luke, Sam’s throat swelled and her eyes burned.

Tears won’t help.

“Sam!” Wade’s shout startled her. She stumbled from the kitchen and met him at the front door.

The blasted tears she’d refused to shed spilled from her eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but to her horror the lump in her throat blocked the words.

Wade opened his arms and Sam flew into his embrace. She clung to him, her fingers digging into his back. “I’m sorry,” she choked.

“Have you searched the entire ranch?” he asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“Yes.”

He broke their embrace but kept his hands on her shoulders, and Sam was grateful for the warmth of his touch. “Did you check the barns?”

“Twice.”

“Was there a construction crew here today?”

“Yes.”

“Could one of the men have—”

“The workers left shortly after Luke and I returned from running errands. Luke was with me at the time.”

“Let’s get out of here before the roof caves in on our
heads.” He slid his arm around her waist and half carried her down the rickety porch steps. When they rounded the corner of the house they bumped into Millicent.

Wade glanced between the two women. “Can you recall anything Luke said that might give a clue where—”

“That’s the problem, Wade,” Sam blurted. The anxiety bottled up inside her erupted. “I can’t remember!” Lord help her, she was falling apart.

His eyes darkened with sympathy and for one horrifying moment she wondered if someone had told Wade about her memory troubles. “I made a list of things Luke wasn’t allowed to do and we went over it this morning.”

“Show me the list.” Wade held out his hand.

Sam retrieved the crumpled yellow paper from her jean pocket.

“What’s the witch’s tower?” he asked.

An image of Luke, sunburned and dehydrated, flashed through Sam’s mind. If the boy had taken off in search of the oil rig, he could have gotten lost, bitten by a snake or attacked by a coyote. “The witch’s tower is an old wildcat well.”

“Wildcat well?”

“They’re small oil wells. The problem is they usually aren’t capped properly because the speculators are flat broke by the time they abandon the site.”

“What happens if the well’s not capped?”

“If they fill the borehole in with dirt instead of cement, oil can leak out and pollute the water table.” Samantha’s head spun and she closed her eyes, fearing she might topple. “Or small animals and kids can fall in the borehole.”

A gurgling noise erupted from Millicent’s throat. “I told Luke ’bout the tower when we was fishin’ at the pond the other day.” Millicent wrung her knobby hands.

“Where’s the rig?” Wade asked.

Sam pointed beyond the barns. “Over that rise in the distance.”

“What about the pond? Maybe he went fishing?”

Sam had forgotten the pond. “I didn’t check there.”

“Let’s split up. I’ll drive to the pond. You head to the rig,” Wade said.

“I’ll find Luke. I promise,” Sam pledged. The fastest way to reach the rig was by horse. She took off at a dead run for the barn. Wade returned to his car and sped away. Sam hadn’t ridden a horse since her accident. The prospect terrified her as she stumbled to a halt in front of Blue’s stall. She’d made tremendous progress with the gelding, but could she trust him to keep her safe long enough to find Luke?

Careful not to make any sudden moves that might startle Blue, she opened the stall door and stepped inside. After stroking the gelding’s neck, the horse swung his head toward her and stared with his big brown eyes.

You have to help me, Blue.

The animal bobbed his head as if he’d heard Sam’s silent plea.

“Take me to Luke,” she whispered.

Before she lost her courage, she saddled Blue. As an afterthought she grabbed a coil of rope from a hook on the stall door and walked the horse out of the barn. When she attempted to mount, her grip slipped on the saddle horn. She wiped her sweaty palm on her thigh.
A wave of nausea churned Sam’s stomach as she adjusted her boot in the stirrup.

She succeeded on the second try, swinging her leg over Blue’s rump and settling in the saddle. The horse sidestepped, and bile rose in Sam’s throat. When she relaxed her grip on the reins, Blue quieted. “Okay, boy. Take me to Luke.”

W
ADE SLAMMED THE BRAKES
on as the car topped the hill near the pond. He held his breath and scanned the water’s surface. Nothing. His lungs relaxed and he exhaled. He shifted into Park, left the car and walked the perimeter of the pond, searching for footprints, a dropped fishing pole—any evidence his son had been there.
Nothing.
Certain his son hadn’t drowned, Wade headed back to the ranch yard and found Millicent staring into space.

He pulled up next to the old woman and unrolled the window. “Where’s the road that leads to the rig?”

“There ain’t no road. Ya gotta walk or ride a horse.”

He shut off the engine and got out of the car. Riding a horse was out of the question—he’d have to walk. He glanced down at his loafers and cringed. He’d make better time with boots, but it couldn’t be helped. “Which way?”

She pointed beyond the barns. “You’ll see the nodding donkey once ya clear the hill.”

He took off, sprinting the first hundred yards. When his lungs burst into flames he slowed to a trot. As Millicent promised, when he topped the rise he spotted the derrick and Samantha off in the distance.

Where was Luke?

Ignoring the panic building inside him, he squinted into the glare and picked up his pace. The hot sun beat down on his head and sweat poured off his face. As he jogged across the uneven ground his glasses slipped, forcing him to hold them in place. A sharp pain stabbed his side and he sucked in a breath, pushing himself harder.

When he arrived at the well, Samantha was flat on her belly one arm inside a three-foot-wide opening in the ground. “Luke!” he shouted, dropping to his knees.

“Dad?”

Wade nearly wept with relief. “I’m right here, son. Don’t move. We’ll get you out of there.” He stared at Samantha, eyes pleading. “What do we do?” A rescue from an abandoned oil well was out of Wade’s area of expertise.

“Get me the rope from the back of Blue’s saddle.”

Wade stumbled to the horse and fetched the rope, then Samantha made a large loop at the end. “Luke. I’m going to lower a rope into the hole.”

“I can’t see anything. It’s too dark down here.”

Closing his eyes, Wade sent up a silent prayer to the heavens.

“You’ll have to feel for the rope with your hand. When you find it, put the loop over your head and shoulders, then make sure it’s tight around your chest and under your arms,” Samantha said.

“Okay.”

“How far down is he?” Wade whispered.

“Not too far. Maybe ten feet.”

“What’s keeping him from falling further down?” Wade made himself ask.

“I’m guessing he landed on a piece of casing that
broke away from the side of the borehole.” Samantha lowered the rope into the hole and Wade wrapped the end around his forearm several times.

“Dad?”

“I’m right here, buddy.”

“I think my arm’s broken. It really hurts.”

Wade’s heart lodged in his throat. If his son escaped today’s catastrophe with a broken arm, Wade would be grateful. “Be brave, Luke. It’s going to hurt when we pull you up.”

“I got the rope.”

“Tell us when you have both arms through the loop and it’s tight around your chest.”

“I’m ready.”

“Use your feet to walk up the hole as we pull you,” Samantha instructed.

A thousand worries raced through Wade’s mind—Would the rope hold? Would Luke slip out of the loop and fall to his death? Would his son suffer more injuries from being dragged to safety?

Hand over hand, Wade and Samantha reeled Luke up the shaft. Wade heard whimpers and shouted, “Hang on, son, you’re almost out!”

When the top of Luke’s head popped into view, Wade tightened his grip while Samantha grasped the waistband of Luke’s jeans and hauled him from the hole.

Tears burned Wade’s eyes as he hugged his son. “You scared the bejeezus out of us, Luke.”

“Ouch, Dad. My arm.”

Wade loosened his hold. Luke was a sight to see—covered from head to toe in dirt. His clothes were torn. Scratches marred his face and hands. He looked as if
he’d brawled with a pack of wild dogs. “Where are your glasses?”

“They fell off when I slipped into the hole.” He sniffed. “I’m in big trouble, aren’t I?” Then he looked at Samantha, his tears leaving muddy trails down his cheeks. “I broke your rule, Miss Sam. I’m sorry.”

Samantha opened her arms and Luke launched himself at her. “It’s okay, honey. I know you didn’t mean for this to happen,” she whispered. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“We’ll discuss your punishment later, Luke. Right now you need to see a doctor.” He motioned to the horse. “You can ride back to the barn with Samantha.” Wade stood next to the horse, ready to help Samantha and his son mount.

Samantha balked. “I’ll walk. Luke should see a doctor as soon as possible.”

“I won’t risk Luke getting bucked off because I can’t ride a horse.”

Samantha nodded, then untied the reins from the derrick and mounted. Wade lifted Luke and situated him in front of Samantha.

“My hat, Dad. Where’s my hat?”

Wade glanced around and spotted the straw Stetson caught beneath a rusted oil drum. He snatched the hat and placed it on his son’s head. “Be careful,” he said, then began walking, hoping they wouldn’t notice the limp in his stride—his blistered feet hurt like hell.

Samantha clicked her tongue and rode off, Wade following at a distance. He watched until the horse and its riders disappeared over the hill. Left alone he pinched his eyes to stem the flow of tears.

He’d almost lost his son today.

The experience left him gutted. And served as a wake-up call. There was more to life than climbing a damned corporate ladder. He was finished with Dawson Investments. He could only pray Samantha wouldn’t be finished with him when he told her his uncle had squandered her trust fund.

A
S SOON AS THE BARN CAME
into view Sam’s body shuddered uncontrollably. When she’d arrived at the oil well and saw the straw cowboy hat lying on the ground, she’d known in her gut that Luke had fallen into the well. On hands and knees she’d searched for the borehole opening and that’s when she’d heard Luke’s whimper.

God had been watching over Luke, because it was nothing short of a miracle that a piece of casing had prevented him from tumbling several thousand feet to his death.

This accident would have been prevented if she hadn’t allowed Wade to persuade her to tackle the ranch improvement projects one at a time instead of all at once as she’d preferred. The first day she took ownership of the ranch she should have hired a construction crew to seal the well and properly cap and bury the wellhead.

Don’t blame Wade. You didn’t remember to put the oil well on your to-do list.

The paddock blurred before her eyes. Today’s catastrophe had destroyed the tiny bead of hope that had been growing inside her since she and Wade had made love. A hope nurtured by her and Wade’s deepening rela
tionship and her affection for Luke. A hope that with Wade by her side Sam could have it all—a loving marriage, motherhood and a successful sanctuary ranch.