Love Thine Enemy (11 page)

Cheryl pulled back from the window and gave a cry of pain as she covered one eye with her hand.

Sam was beside her in an instant. “What’s the matter?”

“Something blew in my eye.”

“Don’t rub it. Let me see.” He opened the truck door, jerked off his gloves, and bent close. With gentle fingers, he removed a cinder from the corner of her eye.

Cheryl blinked rapidly. “Thanks, cowboy.”

“You’re welcome, New York,” he replied softly. His gaze was drawn to her tempting lips. Ever so slowly, he bent toward her.

“Cheryl, look at—”

“—all the flowers we found.”

The twins squirmed in between them and held up grubby hands filled with flowers and clumps of clinging dirt. Sam drew back.

“They’re beautiful, girls,” Cheryl said, taking the offered bouquet. “These wild plums smell wonderful, don’t they? But I’m afraid this old milkweed will make me sneeze.”

Sam frowned. “I didn’t think they had milkweed in New England. It’s a prairie plant.”

Cheryl’s gaze shot to his, and her eyes widened. Suddenly, she smacked the flowers into his chest, and he jumped. “What on earth?”

“Bee! Sam, there’s a bee on you. I’ll get it.” She hit him again, spreading dirt and petals across his shirt.

The twins watched with puzzled faces. Lindy said, “I don’t see a bee.”

“Me neither,” Kayla added.

“It’s gone now.” Cheryl dropped the tattered remains of her bouquet and put her sunglasses on. “Don’t you think we had better catch up with the others, Sam? Come on, girls, get in the truck.”

Sam brushed the dirt from his shirt as he walked around to the driver’s side. What had that been all about? He didn’t have time to ponder the question. The other trucks were pulling ahead of them.

The twins climbed in with Cheryl. They both wanted to sit beside her, and she forestalled an argument by lifting Kayla over her lap and placing one child on each side. She looked at Sam as he got behind the wheel, and he gave her a rueful grin.

“Can we—” Lindy started.

“—see the fire?” Kayla asked.

“Will it make—”

“—lots of smoke?”

“What makes the smoke go up?”

“Where does it go after it goes up?”

Sam said, “Remind me to leave them at home next time.”

Cheryl grinned at him. “I would have had to stay at home with them.”

“You’re right. Remind me to let them ride with Walter.”

“Now that’s a good idea, cowboy.”

By late afternoon, the thrill had worn off for the twins, and Sam looked over to see both girls asleep as they leaned on Cheryl. Even Cheryl’s head was nodding as he followed slowly behind the others occasionally stopping to put out a small fire the main water truck had missed. It was boring work, but the entire pasture perimeter had to be backfired carefully before the main fires could be lit.

The trucks were nearly back at the starting point when a movement off to his right caught Sam’s attention. A white-tailed doe sprang out of a brushy ravine as the wind carried the smoke in her direction. Sam watched as she bounded back into cover only to reappear a moment later. Nervously, she watched the trucks and stamped her front leg in a signal of alarm. After a moment, she bounded back down the ravine.

She’s got a fawn down there, Sam thought, slowing his truck. He glanced at Cheryl and the girls. The twins dozed quietly, and only Cheryl’s eyes opened when the truck stopped.

“Are we done?” she asked, trying to stifle a yawn.

“We’re back where we started from, but we’re a long way from done.” He smiled as she gave a sleepy nod and closed her eyes again.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” he said, stepping out of the truck. He didn’t want Cheryl or the girls to know about the deer. Area wildlife would head for the creeks and ponds when the grass started burning, but a newborn fawn wouldn’t stand much of a chance. He decided to check the ravine and see if the doe had hidden a baby too young to run.

Cheryl heard Sam leave the truck. She opened her eyes long enough to see him start toward a deep gully that cut between two loaf-shaped hills. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. The twins slept soundly as they leaned against her.

Several minutes had passed when the radio crackled, and Walter’s voice came over the speaker. “The wind is gusting a bit harder now, Sam. I’m going to get started.”

It was a moment before her sleepy brain processed the fact that Walter’s truck had turned and was coming back toward them. He had set fire to the grass inside the burnt strip, and the breeze was already pushing the flames out across the prairie.

She grabbed the mike and fumbled with it an instant before she was able to call out, “Walter, stop! Sam went down into that ravine.”

His truck veered off the grass and stopped.

His voice barked over the radio to the other truck. “Get the sprayer going and put this out. Sam’s in front of the fire!”

Cheryl saw the men on the second truck scrambling to get the water sprayer started again. The wind kicked up in a sudden brisk gust, and the fire gained mo
mentum, crackling and snapping as the flames swept through the tall, dry grass.

Walter jumped out of his truck and began running toward the gully, yelling Sam’s name. Thick gray-white smoke rose in a dense curtain from the flames and obscured everything beyond it. A swirling column of hot air sprang up in the blazing grass, and a spark-laden whirlwind danced ahead of Walter spreading the fire even faster. He threw his arms in front of his face and backed away as a wall of flames flared in front of him. He was still shouting Sam’s name.

Sam walked down the ravine slowly scanning the underbrush for the white dotted pattern of a fawn’s back. A rustling in the brush ahead of him and the flash of a white tail bounding away gave him a clue, but he nearly stepped on the little thing before he saw it.

“Your mama did a good job of hiding you, didn’t she?” he spoke softly as he knelt down beside the huddled fawn.

He gathered the quivering infant into his arms. “You can’t be more than a few hours old. It’s just your bad luck to be born so early in the spring. Someone forgot to tell your mama you weren’t supposed to be born for another month. Let’s get you out of harm’s way, shall we?”

He looked into its liquid brown eyes and sighed. “Those girls of mine will want to keep you. I can just see it. In a year’s time, I’ll have a six-point buck in the house with a big red bow around his neck. I hope you like cats.”

Sam heard Walter calling him as he made his way back up the steep ravine. Suddenly, the crackling of fire
drowned out Walter’s voice. Smoke swirled down into the draw, and the fawn began to struggle in his arms.

Sam spun around and sprinted down the gully away from the fire. Of all the witless blunders he had pulled in his life, this was the stupidest. He’d walked off without telling Walter, and he’d assumed the men in the other trucks had seen him. It was a careless mistake that might cost him his life.

He knew a small creek curved across the prairie a quarter of a mile from the base of these hills. It was a slim chance but it was all he had. To make it, he’d have to run the race of his life. He wasn’t going to die without a fight—his girls needed him. He glanced down at the tiny deer. If he was going to have any chance, he knew he’d have to leave the fawn behind.

Cheryl watched as Walter backed away from the blaze. She stared in stunned disbelief as the fire engulfed the ravine Sam had entered. Her mind recoiled in horror as the flames shot higher when they reached the thick brush that grew there.

A moan escaped her lips, and she swayed in the seat. The radio mike dropped from her nerveless fingers. She clapped her hands over her own mouth to keep from screaming. Tearing her gaze away from the fire, she looked down at the twins. They continued to sleep quietly on either side of her.
Dear God, please don’t let them wake up and see this.

The men on the water truck fought a losing battle as the fire spread out in front of them. One man jumped from the truck and ran to pull Walter away from the fire’s edge. Walter shook him off and staggered back to his pickup. He braced both arms on the hood and bowed
his head. After a long moment, he walked to the open truck door, leaned in and grabbed the radio mike. Cheryl didn’t hear any sound from her set. He’d turned the radio to the emergency channel, she realized, and he was calling for help. He dropped his head onto his arms when he finished and leaned on the truck door as if it were the only thing in the world that could hold him up.

The other cowboy took the mike from him and laid a hand on his shoulder. Walter straightened and looked toward Cheryl. He began to walk slowly toward her.

At the bottom of the ravine, Sam paused and looked back. The flames were gaining on him. Upward and to his left, he saw the hill ended in a rocky outcropping. The crumbling limestone cliff was free of brush, and a shelf of stone jutted out like a small cave. It was a better gamble than the creek, and he scrambled upward with the fawn still cradled in his arms.

He stretched out under the low rock shelf and prayed he didn’t find himself sharing it with a copperhead. It would be just his luck to survive the fire and die of snakebite. The fawn squirmed in his arms, but he held it tightly as the fire swept around the hill below them. Thick smoke choked him, and he pulled his bandanna up to cover his nose and mouth.

A picture of Cheryl with her arms full of plum blossoms flashed into his mind. He regretted now he hadn’t kissed her at the truck. If he were going to die, he’d much rather die with the memory of her sweet kiss still on his lips.

He huddled under the rock ledge as burning embers fell beside him from the hilltop’s grassy overhang. Heavy smoke billowed around him, the heat became
intense as the fire devoured the heavy brush at the foot of the cliff a few feet below him. The fawn stopped struggling, and he wondered if it had passed out from the smoke. He sheltered its small body as best he could and he prayed for deliverance.

Walter stopped at the open window beside Cheryl. She saw the agony in his ancient eyes, and her heart trembled.

“It’s good that they’re asleep. They shouldn’t see this,” he said when he saw the girls on the seat beside her.

“Sam?” she whispered.

“He’s got a chance. There’s a creek a little ways below these bluffs.” From the look in his eyes, Cheryl knew the chance wasn’t a good one.

“I want you to take the girls home and wait for us.”

“No! Walter, don’t make me leave. I can’t.”

His lips thinned in a tight grimace of pain, and she read the determination in his face. “Sam wouldn’t want his children here no matter what happens, and you know it.”

She glanced at the twins and nodded in resignation. “Yes, you’re right.”

She had to take care of Sam’s children even if her soul screamed out the need to stay.

As one of the young cowboys drove them back toward the ranch, Cheryl turned in her seat and looked through the rear window. Towering columns of smoke obscured the hills as the line of orange flames raced across the prairie leaving behind only flat, black ash smoldering with a thousand tiny plumes of white smoke. The other cowboys gathered beside Walter. It was a grim-faced group of men who stood together and waited for the fire to sweep past the base of the hills before they began their grisly search.

“W
here’s Daddy?”

Cheryl turned away from the balcony door to see Kayla and Lindy standing in the middle of the room. Sirens sounded in the distance, and she slid the door closed against the eerie wailing. “He’s still out at the pasture with Grandpa Walter.”

Cheryl tried to keep the twins occupied, but she couldn’t keep her eyes off the clock. Sam had to be all right. He was a strong man, he could have outrun the fire and made it to safety. Any minute now, he would come through the door and tell some exciting tale about sharing the creek with catfish and rabbits. Any minute now.

Please, dear Lord, he is such a good man. Bring him home safe to his children.

The minutes became an hour, then two, and still no word. She refused to give in to the despair that threatened her. She couldn’t accept that she would never see him again. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point when she heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, and she hurried to the open front door.

It wasn’t Sam or even Walter who got out of the car in the drive, it was Merci Slader.

She didn’t try to hide her dislike of Cheryl. “I was on my way home and Sam asked me to come by and tell you and the girls that he’s okay.”

“He’s safe?” The welcome fact penetrated Cheryl’s mind, and her knees nearly buckled with relief.

“He has a few scrapes and bruises and some mild smoke inhalation, but when I left the hospital, he was getting cleaned up and ready to leave. They were able to save the fawn, but the vet wants to keep it a few more days.”

Cheryl stared at her in confusion. “What fawn?”

Merci walked past Cheryl into the house. “I’ll let Sam tell you that story. I still can’t believe he risked his life to save a stupid deer.”

The twins came racing up the stairs, then stopped short. “Hi, Mrs. Slader,” Kayla said.

“Hello, girls. I have a treat for you. How would you like to come and spend the night at my house? Your dad thought it was a great idea.”

“I guess.” They cast each other a dubious glance.

She bent toward them. “We’re going to have pizza and go to a movie. Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

The girls looked at Cheryl. She smiled and nodded. “A movie sounds like lots of fun. It was very nice of Mrs. Slader to offer. Go get your pj’s and toothbrushes.”

The twins went back downstairs without arguing, and Merci turned to Cheryl. “I thought Sam might need some time to recover from his ordeal. Obviously, he’s going to need some rest and quiet. I know he can’t get that with those girls in the house. I mean, I’m sure you do your best, but they do need a firm hand.”

“Are you sure Sam is all right?”

Merci studied her closely. “I’m sure.”

Cheryl knew her relief must be plastered across her face. She only hoped her love for Sam wasn’t plain to see, as well.

Sam saw Cheryl standing out on the balcony when he came in later that evening. He watched her for a long moment through the windows. She stood with her arms clasped tightly across her middle as she faced the night. Beyond her, the southern sky glowed with the eerie orange light of prairie fires.

A soft south wind carried the faint scent of smoke drifting to him through the open sliding glass door. The same breeze fluttered the edges of her blue skirt and toyed with her loose hair. Her pale curls seemed to reach out and beckon him.

“It does look as if the whole world is on fire.” She spoke without turning.

“It’s a long way off. You don’t have to worry about it coming this way,” he said, moving to stand behind her. Her scent filled his nostrils and stirred a fierce longing to hold her in his arms once more. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. He was tired of fighting this attraction to her.

He placed his hands gently on her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. She leaned back with a sigh as he folded his arms around her and rested his cheek against the softness of her hair. The silky strands caressed his face as the breeze stirred them. He didn’t want to let her go, not tonight, not ever.

“Oh Sam, I was so frightened,” her voice trembled.

“Hush, don’t talk. Just let me hold you,” he whis
pered. For a long time they stood together and watched the distant hills burning brightly in the night.

Cheryl welcomed Sam’s warmth and strength. She needed to be held in his arms. She needed to feel that he was real and whole. After a time, she turned in his arms. “I prayed you would come to back to me safe and sound.”

“And I prayed for a chance to do this.” He lowered his head and captured her lips in a sweet and thrilling kiss that sent her heart flying with happiness.

When they drew apart at last, Cheryl looked up into his eyes. They glittered with reflected starlight. She had never felt like this about anyone before in her life. The power of the emotions he stirred scared her to death.

She drew away from him unsure of what to say. In spite of how she felt, she knew any relationship between them was doomed. She didn’t want to hurt him. Not ever.

No, what she wanted was to throw herself back in his arms and hang on to the first good thing that had come into her life in a long time. But staying here would mean facing her past, her grandmother and the community that once shunned her.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, dropping his arms to his sides. “Maybe the kiss was out of line, but I don’t regret it. I care for you a great deal.”

It was so much more than she deserved.

He spoke again quickly. “It won’t happen again. I hope this doesn’t drive you away.”

“No, of course not.” Because she wanted to be near him for whatever time she had left. “I know you need help watching the girls. I’ll stay another week, but I can’t promise more. My sister will be home from her honeymoon then. After that, I’ll be going to stay with her.”

It was late the next morning when Sam woke. He stretched stiff, sore muscles that creaked in protest after a day of fire fighting. After dressing, he left the bedroom and saw Cheryl out on the balcony, cradling a steaming cup in her hands as she leaned a hip against the railing. She was dressed in a pair of jeans and a yellow shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, and her shoulders were slumped. It struck him that she looked more like a lonely kid than an elegant dancer.

She turned around at the sound of the sliding glass door opening and smiled. He smiled back, but wondered why she often seemed so sad when she thought no one was looking. “’Morning.”

“’Morning? It’s almost noon, lazy bones. Walter left to check the fence in the west pasture an hour ago. He told me to tell you to feed the horses.”

“Okay. Come on, I could use some help.”

“Doing what?”

“Someone has to explain to Dusty why his breakfast is late.”

Cheryl followed Sam out to the barn, happy to be included in his day. She drank in the sight of him as he worked. He lifted the heavy bales of hay effortlessly as the muscles of his broad back and shoulders bunched and flexed beneath his faded denim shirt. She was leaning against the barn stall when she felt a nudge at her back and turned to find Dusty looking for some attention.

Sam finished his chores and came to stand beside her as she patted the horse’s neck. “Want to see something cute?”

“Another new calf?”

“Think smaller, but kind of hard to get to.”

“What and where?”

“I can’t tell you what, but where is in the hay loft.”

She pointed to her cast. “Sam, I can’t climb up there.”

“Sure you can. Do you trust me?”

“Maybe.”

“Yes or no?”

“I think so. Why?”

“Good.” He grabbed her and hefted her over his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” she shrieked. “Put me down!” She pummeled his back as he strode to the front of the barn.

“You can’t climb the hayloft ladder with that cast on, New York. I’m helping you up.”

“Oh, no you don’t! You are
not
going to carry me up a ladder like this!”

“Relax. You don’t weigh any more than a flea. I’ve carried sacks of grain up there that were bigger than you.”

“Oh, that’s great. How many of them have you dropped?”

“Not more than five or six. Hey, grab that horse blanket.”

“Why should I?”

“The hay is soft, but it’s prickly. Take my advice and grab the blanket.”

Cheryl snatched the dark blue blanket off the stall door as he walked past. At least if he dropped her, she’d have something to break her fall.

He quickly started up the wooden ladder beside the front door. With a squeak, Cheryl squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed on to his belt as the barn floor dropped away beneath her.

“Okay, you can let go now,” Sam said as he stepped onto the solid floor and set her down.

She glared at him. “That was not fun, Sam!”

He grinned. “Yes, it was.”

“Look, you big, bull-headed cowboy. If you think for one minute that I enjoyed that!”

He touched his finger to his lips. “Hush.”

“I will not be hushed.”

“You’ll wake the babies.”

She scowled at him. “What babies?”

He walked to a stack of bales, dropped to his belly in the hay and motioned for her to do the same. “Come see.”

Cheryl lay on the hay beside him and looked into a space between the hay bales. A small gray cat looked back at her with luminous green eyes. Beside her, four long-haired, yellow, newborn kittens slept nestled together.

Sam grinned at Cheryl. “I found them yesterday morning. I think Bonkers is a father.”

Her giggle was music to his ears. A lifetime with this woman wouldn’t be enough. His grin faded, and he sobered at the thought. What if she didn’t stay? What if all he had wasn’t enough for her?
Please, God, don’t let it happen again.

The days that followed were some of the happiest Cheryl could remember. One afternoon, Sam installed a long wooden barre and a full-length mirror on the rec-room wall. Delighted, Cheryl spent hours practicing and teaching the twins to use it properly. While Sam and Walter finished burning the range, Cheryl took care of the house and the children. She dusted off her cooking skills and beamed with pride when Sam complimented her meals.

Sitting at the table in the evenings, she listened to Sam and Walter discuss the ranch work and their breeding programs. It was strange and yet wonderful to feel so included in the lives of the people she’d grown to love. Was this what belonging to a family was supposed to feel like?

The next afternoon, the twins persuaded her to help them fly their kites, and she followed them across to the hillside opposite the house. As they passed the old oak tree, she saw that someone had nailed wooden strips to its slanted trunk, and a few planks were visible in its leafy branches.

“Is this your tree house?” Cheryl asked as she sat down in the shade. Bonkers climbed into her lap for attention.

“It was Daddy’s and Aunt Becky’s.”

“When they were little like us.”

“I see.” Cheryl smiled as she imagined a young Sam the budding architect constructing it.

The twins ran to launch their kites, and the western breeze carried them quickly out over the valley below the hillside. Cheryl leaned back against the trunk of the tree and watched as the red-and-yellow kites dipped and soared in the wind silhouetted against the blue sky and the fluffy white clouds that drifted by. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath of fresh air on a glorious spring day.

A meadowlark sang somewhere in the tall grass, and the wind stirred the branches overhead and set them to whispering. The children laughed and shouted, and on her lap Bonkers purred in contentment.

“A penny for your thoughts,” a voice spoke above her.

She opened one eye and squinted up at Sam as he towered over her. He tipped the brim of his hat up and leaned his broad shoulder against the tree trunk. “Or aren’t they worth that much?”

“I was just thinking how brave your parents were.”

His brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?”

“To spend all that money to send you to college to study architecture after they saw your early work.” She pointed above them.

He glanced up at the haphazard tree house. “You might not believe it, but I had a beautiful set of blueprints to follow. That was when I discovered an architect is only as good as his builder. I also discovered I was much better with paper than with a hammer and nails.” He sat down beside her. “Mind if I share your tree?”

“Not at all, just promise me you won’t haul me up to see your tree house first-hand.” Cheryl could have bitten her wayward tongue as a speculative gleam leapt into Sam’s eyes. He studied the boards above them but slowly shook his head.

“It’s an idea, but I don’t think those old timbers could take the stress,” he said as he grinned at her.

She shot him a look of disgust. “Don’t you have some ranch work to do?”

He leaned close and whispered in her ear, “I do, but I’d rather spend the time with you. Unfortunately, I’m needed in one of the pastures. I just stopped to tell you that Gramps and I’ll be in late for supper.” He rose and tipped his hat in her direction, then strode away.

She sat up straight and gave her attention to the children while trying to ignore the happy hum of her pulse.

As much as Cheryl liked the girls, watching two
active and imaginative kids turned out to be harder than she believed possible.

Sam came into the house the next afternoon as she was cleaning up, followed by two contrite-looking children. Cheryl stared at them in surprise. She’d thought they were downstairs watching TV. In fact, she could still hear the sounds of cartoons coming up the stairwell.

His tone was stern as he crossed his arms and said, “Show Cheryl what you did.”

Lindy glanced once at his set face then held out her hands. Messy globs of vibrant pink covered her fingertips as she held out an empty bottle of nail polish. Cheryl took the vial and looked to Sam for an explanation. She’d used her favorite shade of Rose Petal Pink just that morning, and she was sure she’d left the bottle on the dresser in her room.

“Apologize for taking something that didn’t belong to you,” Sam said.