The Rancher's First Love (2 page)

“I used to have a pony,” she said, not looking at him but her big brown eyes gobbling up his horse.

“Did you?”

She nodded. “Yeah, before. Before the fire.”

Yeah, he was going to cry today. He could feel it coming on as the little girl told him about a fire and how her daddy got her out but then went back in for the rest of the family. And he didn't come back out again.

What did a man say to that? He wanted to tell this child he would fix it all. But he couldn't. He couldn't fix her. He couldn't give her back her family. So he hugged her and told her he would pray.

She leaned in close. “Pray someone wants to be my family.”

His throat tightened painfully at that request. “You've got it, kiddo.”

“My name is Lizzy,” she whispered.

Samantha rescued him. She appeared at his side and as he stayed on his knees in front of Lizzy, she touched his shoulder.

“Time for lunch, Lizzy Lou.” Sam brushed a hand through the child's blond hair. “Tell Mr. Jenkins thank you.”

“Thank you.” Lizzy smiled sweetly. “I hope you'll come back soon.”

“I sure hope I can, Lizzy.” He stood and moved out of the way with John. “Maybe just John Wayne and me, but we'll be back.”

“Don't make promises,” Sam whispered as she walked away.

He couldn't let that go. He led John back to the nurse's station. He waited for Sam to walk back into the hall and he followed her.

“Go away, Rem.” She spoke without looking back at him.

He caught up with her, tugging John along behind him. The pony trotted, but he pulled his head back, not happy with the pace.

“No, I don't think I will.”

She spun to face him, her blue eyes flashing sparks of anger that would have quelled a lesser man. He reckoned she ought to know he wasn't going to be pushed around.

“Your posse left. Why didn't you leave with them?” she asked.

“Because it seems as if we have unfinished business.”

She shook her head. “No, we don't. We've been finished for a long time now. We were kids, Rem. We're adults now and I don't have time for this.”

“Why did you tell me not to make promises to that little girl?”

“Is that what this is all about?” She pulled a face at him, wrinkling her nose. “These kids have enough to deal with, and they don't need a cowboy and his pony trotting into their lives, cheering them up, and then promising to come back.”

“But I
am
coming back. I've already talked to Dr. Jackson. I'm going to stop by every couple of weeks.”

“Great,” she said, not really meaning it. He half smiled, which would probably get him in more trouble.

“I made the offer before I knew you worked here. But surprise! I keep promises and I'm not going to back out on kids just because you don't want me here.”

“It isn't about me.”

He leaned in close. “Isn't it?”

She shook her head and put a little space between them. “No, it isn't. I just don't want these kids hurt or disappointed.”

Hurt and disappointed. He knew right away that it
was
about her. But he wouldn't push and make her admit it. She'd just have to get used to having him around.

Chapter Two

T
he sun had long since set as Samantha drove through Martin's Crossing after work. She could go home to her house on the Circle M, have a sandwich, go to bed and not sleep. Or she could take a run and calm her mind. She pulled into an empty parking space in front of her brother Duke's diner. Duke's No Bar and Grill was a long wood-sided building with a wide, covered deck running the entire length of the front.

She got out of her truck, leaving the keys in the ignition. After all, this was Martin's Crossing; no one ever took the keys out of their ignition.

Sometimes they did. If there was a theft in the area, people might be vigilant for a week or so. But then they went back to their ways, leaving doors unlocked and keys in cars.

She'd missed this town. She'd been gone nearly ten years, only returning for holidays and a few weeks each summer. She'd missed her brothers. She'd missed rodeos. She'd missed graduating high school with friends. They'd all moved on in her absence. Many of them were married now. Several had moved away. They had children and homes of their own.

Why had she thought she could come home and everything would be as it had been when she left? No, she hadn't left. She'd been sent away. Banished. And nothing had stayed the same. Her brothers, the town, the people she'd known—everyone was different.

She
was different.

Pushing aside those thoughts, she stood on the sidewalk and stretched, loosening her muscles and preparing mentally for a run that would shake her loose from memories. Thanks to Remington's appearance at the hospital, he was front and center in her mind.

The door to Duke's opened. She was surprised to see her brother.

“Just getting off work?” he asked as he walked down the steps. Duke was a big guy, closer to seven feet than six. He was all muscle. And all heart. She'd been angry with him for a long time because she'd wanted him to take her side and keep her here, at home.

“Yeah. You?”

He didn't answer right away. She stopped stretching and glanced his way, saw that he was watching her with eyes narrowed.

“Bad day?” he asked.

She shook her head and finished stretching before giving him her full attention. “No worse than any other. I just felt like I needed to run.”

“No one understands that better than me.” Because Duke had struggled when he first came home from Afghanistan. “Remington came in for dinner. With Gus. I guess he's moving back to town.”

So many questions without actually asking.

“Why are you open so late?” she asked, ignoring the obvious. She didn't want to discuss Remington.

“Late dinner crowd. There was a softball game and everyone came in after.”

Summer, rodeos and softball. The three went together in Martin's Crossing. Samantha took a deep breath of summer air perfumed with flowers, sultry humidity and farmland.

“Go home to your family, Duke. I'm good.”

He watched her for another long minute. “You're sure?”

“I'm sure. I know Remington is back. I saw him at the hospital today. I survived. I'm running because I don't feel like going home to an empty house.”

“Come down and visit us, then,” he offered.

She laughed. “Because Oregon and Lilly want company this late at night? I don't think so. Go home.”

“I'll go but you text me or call when you get home. If you don't, I'll have to come looking for you.”

She loved his protectiveness. “I'll text you.”

He gave her a tight hug, then headed around the back of the building where he'd parked his truck. Samantha watched him go, then took off running down the sidewalk. She headed down Main Street to the intersection. Ahead of her the Community Church was dark and quiet, bathed only in the orange glow of streetlights. The park was equally dark. She kept running, breathing in deep and letting go of the tenseness that had built up during the long day.

She loved working with children. She wouldn't change jobs for anything. But watching those children in pain was tough. She'd tried but couldn't leave her work behind at the end of the day. Parker, Danny and the others, they were in her heart. She knew that the longer she remained in this job, the more she'd have to cry about.

She ran several miles, keeping to the few side streets that made up Martin's Crossing. As she turned back up Main Street, she saw a truck had parked next to hers. She slowed her steps, going from a run to a jog and then a walk.

The driver of the truck got out. Even on the dimly lit street, she knew him. She knew the way he stood. She knew the way he pushed that white cowboy hat back. He shouldn't be so familiar to her. But he was.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she leaned over to touch her toes. When she straightened, he was leaning against the side of his truck, watching her.

“I would have gone running with you if you'd called,” he said.

She looked him over. Jeans, cowboy hat, boots. Her heart did a little flip she had to ignore. “Really?”

“I would have changed.”

She lifted one shoulder. “I like to run alone.”

That was what had changed about her in the years since she'd been sent away. She'd gotten used to being alone. She'd gone from the girl at the center of the crowd to a woman who knew how to be independent.

“Of course.” He sat on the tailgate of his truck. “I was driving through town and I saw you running. I didn't like the idea of leaving you here alone.”

“I'm a big girl. No one needs to protect me or rescue me.”

The words slipped out and she wished she'd kept quiet. Not that he would understand what she meant. He wouldn't guess that she'd waited for him to rescue her from her aunt Mavis, believing he'd show up and take her away. She'd thought they would be a family.

But he hadn't rescued her. There hadn't been a letter or a phone call. Not once in all of those years had she ever heard from him.

That summer she'd learned an important lesson about love. Remington had said he loved her. Her brothers had said they loved her and that's why they'd sent her away. Her mom should have loved her. She'd left when Samantha was little more than a baby.

Now it was all just water under the bridge.

“Sam?” The quiet, husky voice broke into her thoughts.

So much for letting go of the tension. She faced the man who had broken her fifteen-year-old heart.

“Remington, I don't want to do this. I don't want to talk about what happened. I don't want to figure out the past. I'm building a future for myself. I have a job I love. I have a home, my family and a life I'm reclaiming. Don't make this about what happened before, because I don't want to go back.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “I know. I promise, I'm here to talk about the future. Sit down, please.”

She paced a few steps away from him, then faced him again. “I don't want to sit.”

“Stubborn as always.” He grinned as he said it, his teeth flashing white in his suntanned face.

“Not stubborn. I just don't want to sit down.”

“I'm sorry they sent you away,” he spoke quietly. In the distance coyotes howled and a train whistle echoed in the night. His words were soft, shifting things inside her that she didn't want shifted. Like the walls she'd built up around her.

“Me, too.” She rubbed her hands down her suddenly chilled arms. “I wasn't prepared to see you today.”

She opened her mouth to tell him more, but she couldn't. Not yet. Not tonight. There was more to tell him. She'd tried to write him a letter. More than once she'd sat down with pen and paper and tried to tell him everything that had happened. At sixteen she hadn't found the right words. At seventeen she'd wanted to put it all behind her. As she got older, she'd convinced herself he didn't need to know.

Maybe Aunt Mavis had been right. They'd been kids ten years ago. What did two kids know about love and forever? It had been a learning experience. A mistake.

“We should talk.”

She gave up and sat down next to him on the metal tailgate. “Rem, I'm just not ready for this. I know I've had plenty of time to come to terms with what happened, but I'm just not ready to talk it all out with you yet.”

“I'm sorry. I always thought eventually we'd run into each other here in Martin's Crossing. It took longer than I expected.”

She pulled one leg up, resting her chin on her knee. “I always looked for you. When I came home for breaks, I'd drive by Gus's, thinking you might be there.”

“I looked for you, too. Now it seems as if we're both back in town for good.”

She looked up, surprised. “For good? You're staying here?”

In the light of the street lamp she saw the twinkle in his eyes. “Gus needs my help on the ranch. And now Parker and his grandmother are moving in.”

“So you're moving here?”

“I'm going to pastor the Countryside Church and run the ranch.”

“I see.” But she didn't. It was all well and good to see him at the hospital with a horse named John Wayne. She'd never expected him back in Martin's Crossing. Back in her life.

* * *

Remington let the silence linger around them. He guessed they both had their memories of that summer. From his point of view, he'd been a kid who'd fallen hard for a pretty girl. They'd been young and they'd gone too far too fast. He'd faced the wrath of Jake and Duke Martin. They'd run him off the ranch and out of her life, letting him know he wasn't welcome on Martin land, or near their sister. Gus had sent him back home to his folks, and their ranch near Austin, where his mom told him to learn from his mistakes.

Samantha Martin. Sitting next to her now on the tailgate, he felt the past coming at him like a steam train. Her arm brushed against his, her soft scent tangled with the breeze and attempted to drive him crazy.

Common sense told him not to go back down that road. He remembered all too well how it had felt to be sent packing. As an adult he doubted her brothers would be his problem. No, if he had any intentions of pursuing her, she'd be the one sending him away.

“
Pastor
Jenkins?” she said it with a teasing glint in her eyes.

“Yeah, surprise.” He shifted to look at her. “There I was in college studying agriculture and taking a class on the Bible that was meant to be an easy A. Instead I found something I'd been missing. I didn't mean for it to be a career.”

“I haven't gone to church in ages.” Her voice was soft, a little bit lost and all kinds of hurt.

He didn't know what to say to that. He knew she probably had her reasons for not going to church and he didn't want to push for answers. He'd learned a hard lesson a few years ago about dating, and found out that if two people lived on opposite sides of the faith fence, it was difficult to make a relationship work.

They sat there a few more minutes. “Parker is your cousin?” she asked.

“Yeah. I guess you know his parents died in a car accident?”

“Yes, I knew. I'm sorry.”

“Me, too. It's going to be tough on him. And on his grandmother, my aunt Lee.”

“But they have you. And Gus.”

Yes, they had him. He hadn't really planned this, coming back to Martin's Crossing. Life was funny that way. It never really went according to plan. At least not his. At seventeen he'd planned on marrying the woman sitting next to him.

“How is your granddad?” she asked, dragging him back to the present.

“Slowing down, but he's good. He's recovered from his stroke and thinks he can still outwork me. My mom worries about him.”

“It's good that you can be here to help him. To help them.” Meaning his aunt and Parker.

Her fingers momentarily closed over his, then let go.

He hadn't expected that. He also didn't expect her to hop down from the tailgate and take off. He watched her go. She didn't head for her truck. Instead she headed down the street, walking slow and easy.

“What are you doing?” he called out to her.

She glanced back, a finger pressed to her lips. Okay, silence, he got that. He followed her. Suddenly she was on all fours, peeking under the truck parked in front of Lefty Mueller's woodworking shop.

“Come here, sweetheart. Come on,” she said in a sweet tone that would have had him crawling through hot coals to get to her.

“What...”

She shot him a look and shook her head. Right. No talking.

He saw what had drawn her attention. A pregnant hound dog, skin and bones but about to whelp any day. The dog whimpered, then crawled out from under the truck. Sam sat back on her heels and the dog nuzzled into her lap, all big brown eyes and long ears.

“What are you going to do with her?”

Sam held the hound's soulful face in her hands. “Take her home.”

“Duke and Jake will love that.”

“Duke and Jake don't have a say in the matter. I'm not going to ask their opinion on every decision I make.”

“Or any decision,” he muttered, heading for his truck.

“You're leaving?” she called out, sounding like she honestly didn't want him to go.

He shook his head. “No, I'm getting you a lead rope for your new pet.”

When he returned with the rope she was standing, the underfed and overly pregnant dog standing next to her. He shook his head and handed her the rope.

“What?” She made a loop and put the rope around the dog's neck.

“I'm just thinking that you're asking for trouble.”

“She's beautiful.” Sam brushed a hand down the dog's head. “Maybe part bloodhound?”

Beautiful. He had to agree. Standing there in shorts, a T-shirt and with her hair pulled back, Sam was beautiful. He let himself get tangled up in everything he'd felt years ago. But those memories would get him nowhere. He pushed his hat back and refocused his attention on the dog.