Erin's Way (8 page)

Sam shook his head. “No, Erin. It wouldn’t work. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, okay?”

She froze, feeling like she’d been slapped down yet again. “Yeah. I’ll be there, Sheriff. Good night.” She shut the door in his face. Tabby and Jenny were watching her. Her stomach knotted. “I think I’ve had as much family as I can handle for one night.”

Tabby stood. “You need some time. Remember, Erin… We’re here if you want to talk.”

As Jenny and Tabby halted at the door, Erin knew she couldn’t let them leave without saying something, but it was so hard to open up to anyone. She reached out awkwardly and hugged first Jenny, then Tabby. “Thanks. I know you’re trying to help.”

* * * *

When Sam entered the barn the next morning, the last thing he expected was that Erin would be there. He figured he would get one day out of her and that would be it. But as he looked around, the radio was playing in the background, and the horses were already munching hay while Erin leaned against a stall doorway with a hose in hand filling water buckets. He paused in mid-stride. She was here. He took his cap off and scratched his head.

“Good morning. I didn’t see your vehicle anywhere. Did you get a ride?”

“I walked.” She turned off the water, rolled the hose, and entered the feed room to carefully measure grain. He was impressed that she remembered exactly what each horse ate. “If you’ll tell me which ones we’ll ride this morning, I’ll knock them off and tack them up.”

He told her, and they worked together as the news played in the background. While he picked up eggs from the hens, she brushed the two mares. Sam listened to her talk nonsense to them. From a spot where he knew he would be unobserved, he studied her for a moment. She looked relaxed, the tension gone from her face and a bloom to her cheeks. Erin had always been gorgeous. Fourteen or twenty-six, it didn’t matter. She still had a powerful, elemental impact on him, and it still made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want to be attracted to her—but he was.

He’d already been an adult when she was just a kid. While he still had all his hair, he was getting a few gray strands around the temples. She needed someone closer to her age. Whoa, man. What was he thinking? As screwed up as she was, Erin didn’t need a complication of any age in her life. And he had the feeling that as fragile as she seemed right now, a man—any man—would be more than she could handle.

When she stood practically on tip-toe trying to adequately tighten the cinch, Sam walked over and reached around her to easily pull it up another two holes. She stilled instantly, trapped as she was between his arms and the horse. She turned, bringing their bodies into almost perfect alignment.

Sam was only inches away from eyes that had suddenly gone dark and vulnerable. As he searched her face, her lips parted and her gloved hands trembled against the front of his coveralls. The desire to kiss her poured through every part of him. Her mouth looked soft and sweet. Instantly, his imagination thrust an image of her melting against him, her mouth opening beneath his. Sam leaned toward her. The mare shifted behind them and bumped Erin against him. He caught her, then instantly backed up to put distance between them. The moment was lost.

Her chin jutted. “Sorry. I’ll go get her bridle.” She ducked around him hastily. Sam watched her go, his gaze glued to her bottom, shapely even in the old coveralls he’d loaned her. He sighed. What the hell had he been thinking asking her to work for him? She was ten tons of trouble in a teeny tiny package. He’d been around plenty of women who would have been more than willing to jump if he’d just given them a nod, but Erin was different. When it came to her, he had no self-control.

A few minutes later, when he started to boost her into the saddle, she glared at him and vaulted onto her mare without help. Sam put his foot in the stirrup and swung up on his own horse. She wanted distance. Perfect. He’d play it casual.

“Let’s go. You’ll need to drive the truck out in the morning with feed and hay, but I like to ride the whole property as much as possible to check the areas not accessible by truck. The round bales will suit the cows closer in just fine.”

He outlined how much food to put out as well as how many head were in each pasture. The cows ready to calve had been moved into a smaller pasture with easier access from the house.

“For the most part, they can take care of things themselves, Erin, but keep an eye out for a cow having trouble. If you spot one off by herself, check her posture. She might have her back arched or her tail raised. Once you see the water bag appear, give her about an hour, then check to see if she needs help. You know what a normal presentation looks like?”

Erin nodded. “Head first tucked between the front feet.”

Sam smiled. “Yep. You see anything other than that, you call me. If you can’t get me, call Carter or your daddy. I try to keep calls to Bill Mitchell—the vet, you remember him—to a minimum. He’s busy enough as it is. It’s a lot to remember. You want me to write it down?”

Erin stiffened, instantly on the defensive. “No. I can remember it.” And she proceeded to recite everything he’d told her back to him, including the feed amounts and livestock numbers.

He laughed. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“I have an excellent memory for numbers,” she mumbled, not looking at him.

As far as he could tell, she seemed to have a good memory for almost everything. He turned his mare. “Let’s get breakfast. We’ll use the truck to feed after we eat. You wanna eat at the truck stop or go to Mercer’s?”

“I could cook,” she offered. “Don’t you go to church?”

“Well yeah, but not every Sunday.” Sam looked at her. He didn’t know too many people who’d offer to cook over going out to eat. “If you really don’t mind cooking, then let’s feed first and we’ll be done. I can get cleaned up while you cook. Uh… You could come with me…to church, I mean. I could run you by the guesthouse and wait for you to get ready.”

Erin’s eyes widened. For a second he thought he saw fear, but it vanished, replaced with a wary humor. “I don’t think I’m ready for that, Sam. I’d kind of like to keep a low profile. Could… Could I stay here while you’re gone?”

“Trying to avoid your parents?”

She nodded. Sam sighed. He was setting a dangerous precedent, but it was hard to refuse her anything. “Yeah, but don’t make it a habit.”

Erin working was one thing. Even taking her to church would be all right—public as that was, but Erin hanging around on a social footing was too much for him to handle. Every time he touched her, it was like holding his fingers to a flame. Sure he knew it was going to burn him, but it was so mesmerizing.

They rode out in the truck to spread more hay in the pastures that needed it. It was hard work, but Erin quickly found her rhythm, surprising Sam yet again with how hard she worked and how much she could do, given her small size. She didn’t slack, and didn’t complain. In fact, she didn’t at all fit his preconceived ideas about her. She wasn’t the screw up she always appeared to be, and he wondered if it was something she perpetuated, or just an image everyone had gained over the years. Where most of the help he’d hired had needed everything written and repeated for them, she remembered everything he told her is if she were a sponge.

Her cooking was another surprise. The eggs were fried to perfection, the bacon was crisped just the way he liked it, and she’d even made some of those hash browns with the peppers and onions. He studied her surreptitiously while they ate. She didn’t eat much—an egg and some toast. He started to say something and stopped. He was afraid to spoil the tenuous peace between them.

Picking up their plates, he began to clear the table, but she protested. “I can do it. You don’t need to help.”

He stopped her with a touch to her wrist. “I know you can do it, Erin. I want to help.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh. Okay.”

After they finished cleaning up, Sam sat back in his chair to finish his coffee and studied her bent head. She pored over the Sunday comics with her brow furrowed, as serious as an archaeologist deciphering ancient hieroglyphics.

“Most people find them funny, Erin,” he teased, “not something to frown at.”

She jerked in surprise and blushed, and he realized she had forgotten his presence for a moment as she concentrated on the comics. His eyes flickered to the paper and back to her thoughtfully. Erin leaped to her feet, shoved the paper at him, and snatched her empty coffee cup.

“They’re stupid anyway!” she burst out, as she ran water, quickly washed the cup, and set it in the dish drain to dry. “Aren’t you going to be late? Does Joe give you detention?”

“You could always come and find out.” He eyed the stiff set of her shoulders, wondering what had just happened.

“No, I’ll just hang out here.”

He nodded, picked up his suit coat, and was gone.

* * * *

Erin stared at the newspaper in frustration. She’d had to leave her laptop behind with all its software. All the blood left her head, leaving her dizzy for a moment. Her laptop—with her address book. Oh God! Her parents’ address, Evan’s… They were all there. She had password protected everything, but someone determined could get the information. Erin paced the floor. She would have to tell someone. She never meant to put anyone in danger. She’d tell Sam when he got back. He’d know what to do.

Erin finished the dishes, pushed the paper into a pile on the table, and stomped along the hall to Sam’s bathroom. After stripping off her clothes, she stepped into the shower and let the water run over her and relax her. She dried off and looked at her clothes with a sigh. Sam wouldn’t be back for a couple of hours. She could sneak in a nap. She still hadn’t caught up on her sleep. And last night, she’d tossed and turned most of the night worried she would oversleep and be late.

She pulled a shirt from his closet, buttoned it, rolled back the sleeves that hung well past her hands and grinned at the shirttails that hit her just above the knee. Damn! He was huge. Why did it seem that every male she encountered was a giant? Her father and Evan were both almost six and a half feet. Joseph looked like he was about six-two, and Sam? He must be about six-four, but where Stoner and Evan were tall and lean, Sam was big. She knew he’d played football. She remembered Evan talking about it with awe when she was just a little girl. Of course, she also remembered there had been some injury that ended any hope of a professional career. He’d gone into the army or something.

Erin curled up in the king-sized bed in his room, feeling like a rowboat in the middle of the ocean, and snuggled under the comforter and flannel sheets. Mmm. It was just right. She was Goldilocks. It was so comfortable, and she’d still slept like crap during the night, jumping at every sound and suffering terrible nightmares. She inhaled Sam’s warm, clean man smell and let her eyes drift shut. She was safe. Sam would keep her safe.

* * * *

Sam pulled into the farmyard and cut the engine on the truck. Everything looked quiet enough. He had thought a lot about Erin and the comics. She sure was touchy. He wondered if she wore contacts or glasses and was too vain or had simply forgotten them. He smiled as he entered the house. Somehow, he just couldn’t picture her with owlish looking glasses perched on the end of that straight, little nose. When he didn’t see her in the kitchen or the living room, he wondered if she had gone back out to the barn or home. He decided to change clothes and see if he could find her.

He was already down to his slacks, his chest bare, when he finally noticed the spiky, dark hair just visible over the top edge of his comforter. That lump in his bed was more than covers, he realized. Give her blond hair and he’d begin to feel like he’d stepped into “Goldilocks and the Three Bears.” That would make him Papa Bear. The thought didn’t amuse him. Was she sick?

“Erin?” He sat on the edge of the bed. “Hey, baby. You okay?”

She scrubbed at her eyes just like a kid, and made him feel every one of his thirty-eight years. Then her eyes popped open in alarm. “Oh!” She snatched the covers to her chin. “I’m sorry. I took a nap. I haven’t been sleeping well, and…”

Her voice trailed off nervously, and the comforter dropped to her waist. Sam stared at her startled expression and her flushed cheeks. Eyes so big he sometimes wondered if he could fall right into them, and most of the time filled with the light of battle. Right now, though, they were soft, slightly befuddled, as if she’d momentarily opened the door to her emotions and wasn’t sure what to do. The contrast drew him like a magnet. His body reacted. It knew what to do even if Sam fought it. Erin had been cute at fourteen, but at twenty-six she was all woman, and it looked an awful lot like all that womanliness was covered only by one of his dress shirts. What he wouldn’t give to be his shirt. His eyes dropped to the open neck and the thrust of her breasts against the thin material.

“You’re so beautiful, Erin,” he murmured. Unable to stop, he trailed his hand gently down her cheek before cupping the back of her neck. He looked at the slumberous expression in her darkly lashed eyes and wanted her, just like he always had. Last fall or more than a decade ago, it didn’t matter. Erin was stuck in his head and his heart.

He remembered the summer he had come home from Afghanistan. It was right after Evan and Jenny had broken up and gone their separate ways to college. To his shame, he’d been aware of Erin from then on in ways he knew he shouldn’t. She had been a kid, even if she didn’t look like one. To make matters worse, every time he turned around, he’d run into her. At fourteen, Erin had been desperate to escape her parents’ house whenever possible.

His first sight of her after his return was indelibly burned into his memory. He had discovered her skinny-dipping in the pond in his back pasture, and also discovered that the little girl he remembered had grown up…too much for his comfort. She had ducked under the water to her neck when she spotted him, but then recognizing him, a wicked gleam had sparked in her eyes. Deliberately, she had turned her back to him and walked out of the pond, her bare, heart-shaped bottom swaying tauntingly.