The Rancher's First Love (4 page)

“How'd you know she had her puppies?”

“I saw Brody earlier. He was heading to Dallas.”

She watched Lilly, pretending for the moment that she hadn't heard him. He'd seen the slight shift in expression, the indrawn breath.

“It's Brody's business if he wants to visit Sylvia,” she finally answered. “But that isn't why you're here, is it?”

“No, it isn't.”

She continued to watch her niece. The breeze picked up and Sam pushed her hair back, holding it in place as it tried to sweep across her cheek. Lilly rode up to them, pulling her horse in as she got close.

“Take him again. And this time with some speed. You have to trust your horse, Lilly.”

“Trust my horse. Got it.” Lilly grinned big at Sam and then at him.

“Go,” Sam warned her niece. The girl turned the horse and rode away. “So, why are you here?”

“I'm not really sure,” he said, watching her niece take the barrels. “No, that isn't entirely true. I had a rough night with a family from Jamesville. I saw you down here and thought I'd stop and say hello.”

Her hand touched his arm. “The car accident?”

“Yeah.” He didn't know what else to say.

“I'm sorry. It doesn't get any easier, does it?” Being a nurse, she would know how it felt to lose someone, to feel helpless and as if words were empty and meaningless in the face of someone's grief.

“No, it doesn't,” he agreed.

She looked away, focusing on her niece, calling out a few pointers.

“She's doing better this time,” he said as he watched Lilly take the barrels again. He saw her confidence kick in as the chestnut made good time and she brought the gelding home faster than the previous run.

Sam noticed and she nodded. She cheered as her niece pulled the horse up. “Now that was a ride, Lilly. You're going to be tough to beat.”

“Thanks, Aunt Sam.” Lilly leaned down, hugging the neck of her horse.

“Walk him around the arena, let him cool off, and then we'll head back to the ranch.”

Sam faced him then. “By the way, I have nine puppies. Since you were there, I hold you responsible for finding homes for at least four of them.”

He held up his hands and shook his head. “I had nothing to do with that mess.”

She grinned and it undid the tension he'd been feeling since the start of the conversation. When she looked at him like that, it felt like the sun coming out after a month of rain.

“You were there, Rem. You share the blame and the responsibility.” And then the sun went behind the clouds. Her eyes shadowed and it seemed as if with one sentence she took on the weight of the world.

“Sam?”

“I have to go. Lilly needs me.”

As she walked away, heading for the gate opposite where they stood, he hurried around the arena to catch up with her. He couldn't let her get away, not now, when it seemed they had things to say to one another.

But Lilly was there, unsaddling the horse she'd tied to the trailer, and Sam was smiling, pretending he hadn't unleashed something deep inside her. He watched as the two of them discussed Lilly's horse and how well she'd done. Lilly asked if Sam was going to ride her horse again. The palomino was still saddled and tied to the gate.

“No, I think he's had enough for the day. So have I. We should head back to the ranch and have some lunch before I have to go in to work.”

That was his cue to stop standing around like a self-conscious kid trying to work up the nerve to ask out the most popular girl in school.

“I need to get back to Gus. He's trying to fix a tractor he should have replaced twenty years ago.” He backed away from them. Sam lifted the saddle off her horse and settled it on the saddle rack.

She faced him again, her blue eyes the color of a perfect spring day. Yeah, she still made him wax poetic. He had written her a few poems. Really bad ones, if memory served. He doubted she'd kept his poetry that compared her hair to corn silk and her lips to cotton candy.

“What are you smiling about?”

He should have said nothing. Instead he pulled off his hat and laughed. “Your hair is the color of corn silk and your eyes the color of robin's eggs.”

“I can't believe you remember that. You were the worst poet in the world. I take that back. You were no poet, Mr. Jenkins. There is nothing about my lips that resembles cotton candy.”

But at least she was laughing. He guessed he'd have to add a line about her laughter being like the chorus of songbirds, or something equally corny.

“No, I wasn't a poet. But I'm sure that even my lack of poetic ability didn't detract from my charming personality.”

“Yes, you were charming.”

“So the two of you dated?” Lilly stopped brushing her horse and looked at them. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Sam answered. “It was a long time ago.”

“I should go,” he said.

She nodded in agreement. “Give Gus my love. If he needs anything, tell him to call.”

“I'll tell him.”

She walked away, a cowgirl in a pale pink T-shirt and faded jeans that he'd never quite forgotten.

Chapter Four

O
n
the last day of Sam's four-day workweek, Dr. Jackson called her into his office. She stepped into the tiny room, files and papers stacked everywhere. Sitting behind his desk, he motioned for her to take a seat. She moved a few files from the chair and sat down to wait. He didn't speak for a moment. His gray head was bent as he read over a manual of some type and he was clearly puzzled. After a few minutes, he shook his head.

“Have you ever put an entertainment center together?” he asked without looking up.

She laughed, because she'd thought he might be studying a new medical procedure or a research paper. He glanced up, his glasses perched on the end of his nose.

“That's funny?” he asked.

“Yes, I thought this was about a patient. A treatment. Not an entertainment system. In answer to your question, yes, I have.”

“Of course you have. That's something I like about you, Samantha, you're independent.” He slid the paper across his cluttered desk. “Why does this seem wrong?”

She gave it a look and then turned it over and held it up to the light. “Because it's backwards. Right to left, not left to right.”

“Gotcha.” He took the paper back and held it up to the light. “Well, I'll be dipped in tartar sauce.”

That was a new one. He did like to make up his own sayings and the nurses all repeated them. She couldn't wait to share “dipped in tartar sauce.” She waited for him to say more.

He looked up again and removed his glasses. “You live in Martin's Crossing, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“That's what I thought.” He reached for a file and pushed the glasses back on his face. “Parker.”

Her mood lifted, because Parker had that effect on people. He'd gone through so much but still had a way of making others a little bit happier.

“What about Parker?”

“As you know, he's going home,” he handed her the file. “Today.”

“I knew he'd be released soon but didn't realize it would be today. That's wonderful.” But also frightening. She always worried when a patient went home.

“Yes, it is. But we're not ready to turn him loose. Not completely. Which is why we've come up with a new service we'd like to do on a trial basis.”

“New service?” She really had no idea how this pertained to her.

“Yes, we'd like to do a continued care program for our patients.”

Home visits. Good idea. But then she realized why she'd been called in to the office. She lived in Martin's Crossing, which meant he wanted her to look in on Parker. She looked at the file, then met the serious gaze of the man sitting across the desk from her. He must have seen on her face that she planned to object because he held up a hand to stop her.

“We need someone to check on him once a week. Nothing too time-consuming. A short visit to make sure he's still progressing and coping with the home environment. Also to make sure the caregivers—the family—are coping. I think if we do this, we can catch infections and other issues before they become problems that could jeopardize the health and continued recovery of our patients.”

Brilliant idea really, but the thought of stopping by the Jenkins farm every week wasn't really one she wanted to embrace.

“I think it's a great idea. But someone else should do it,” she started.

“You live in Martin's Crossing. Parker thinks you're the best nurse ever. And I have confidence in you because you have experience in several areas.”

“Yes, but...” she started. Then stopped. What could she say to that?

“Is something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing is wrong.”

“Great, then we'll get all of the appropriate paperwork taken care of. We'll need you to keep track of your time and mileage.”

“Of course.”

He stood and rounded the desk. “Let's go talk to his family.”

She could tell by his tone and expression that in his mind it was all settled. Because he didn't know how much she wanted to avoid Remington Jenkins. He didn't know how much it hurt to look at Remington and remember.

She chased away that thought because this was about a child. And children came first. Parker came first. He came before her fears, her doubts and her resentment.

When they got to Parker's room, they found it filled with staff and family. Parker sat in his wheelchair with a big grin on his face and a new cowboy hat on his head. His grin grew even wider, if possible, when he saw that he had more guests for his going-home party. Every child who left the hospital got a party as a farewell and a celebration.

“Nurse Sam, look—I got a hat! And new boots. And I'll have a new room at Uncle Gus's.”

“I heard, Parker. I'm so excited for you.” She moved through the crowd, smiling at Gus and at Parker's grandmother. Then her heart stuttered a bit when she made eye contact with Remington. He stood to the side, casually leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest.

At that moment, she considered telling Dr. Jackson why it was impossible for her to take this job. But what would she say? That she'd been fifteen and crazy in love with a cowboy that her brothers didn't approve of? That she'd been sent away from home and the cowboy had been sent packing, back to his parents in Austin?

It sounded like a romance novel. Young love. A broken heart. No big deal. To anyone but her. So she shoved it all aside because she wasn't going to let it determine her future or the future of a boy who needed every opportunity to succeed.

She stepped in front of Parker, lowering herself to his level, accepting his big hug. Face-to-face with the child, her objections gave up their last stand of resistance. For Parker, for the other children, she would do whatever was necessary.

“You take care of yourself. And no stunts,” she warned.

“Ah, Nurse Sam, you know I'm not going to be good.”

She laughed at his honesty. “At least be safe.”

“I can do that.”

“And I'm going to stop by and check on you in a few days so you don't miss us too much.”

“That's great,” he said. “I can show you the ranch. And someday I can see the ranch where you live. And I'll go to school there in a few months.”

“Super. I have a niece who goes to school in Martin's Crossing. She's a few years older than you, but I'm sure she'll show you around.”

“Does she ride horses? Remington said everyone in Martin's Crossing rides. I'm sure I could learn to ride.”

“Let's take one thing at a time, Parker.” His grandmother moved to his side, her look a little unsure, Sam thought. But of course she was. She was going to raise this little guy. It had been only a few months since the accident that took his parents. Just a few months of healing and learning a new way of living.

“Oh, Granny, I know that. It'll be okay.”

Big words from a little boy. He reached for his grandmother's hand and held it tight.

“We should go,” his grandmother said. She moved behind his wheelchair. “We have a lot to do when we get home.”

“Like have burgers on the grill,” Parker said. “Rem and Uncle Gus are cooking tonight. You should come over, Nurse Sam.”

“Oh, no, that's okay. You'll have a lot to do, getting settled. I'll be by soon enough.”

“You're more than welcome to join us tonight,” his grandmother offered. “I know Parker thinks the world of you. We're all so glad you're going to continue to be involved in his care.”

“I'm glad, too.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw Remington push away from the wall. He moved around the room, grabbing the suitcase and a box that held Parker's prized possessions. “Okay, Parker, time for you to say your final goodbyes and head home.”

Parker looked around the room that had been his for several very long weeks, his expression suddenly showing the case of nerves he'd been hiding. He bit down on his bottom lip and nodded. “I'm ready.”

“You'll do great, tiger.” Dr. Jackson placed a hand on his shoulder. “We'll walk you out.”

As they exited the room, the real party started. The children and nurses were lined up and down the hall with balloons, noisemakers and hats. Parker laughed, waving at his friends. He stopped a few times for extra hugs from staff who had taken care of him through the long months of recovery and rehab.

Sam walked along behind the group. On her way out the door Dr. Jackson had asked her to escort the family to their car and get them all settled. If she didn't know better, she'd think the man was plotting against her.

Remington walked alongside her.

“I had no idea going home would be like this,” he said.

“We try to make it a special occasion.”

“Thank you for taking us on. I know it means the world to Parker, to know that you'll still be in his life.”

She kept walking, following the slow procession of Parker, his grandmother, Gus and Dr. Jackson as they made their way down the hall toward the double doors, the lobby and then to the front exit. She took the bag that Remington carried, lightening his load.

“The invitation stands, if you'd like to join us for burgers on the grill,” he continued.

She glanced up, into gray eyes that she knew so well. “I don't think so.”

“We're going to have to get used to being around one another. You might find—” he grinned as he said it “—that you
want
to spend more time with me.”

“I doubt that.” She bit back the smile he probably expected. “I'm not interested in going back and revisiting my fifteen-year-old self. She was a mess.”

“I remember liking her a lot but I understand not wanting to revisit those days. But it won't hurt for us to be friends right now.”

“No, it won't hurt.” But she worried it might.

There was so much more between them. More than he realized.

* * *

Remington glanced at the woman walking next to him. He'd give anything to know why her expression seemed so troubled and why something as simple as friendship set her on edge. Yes, they shared a past. It wasn't as if they were enemy states trying to find a way to sign a peace treaty.

He knew one thing: pushing wasn't going to get him anywhere with Samantha Martin. He guessed she'd been pushed enough. Pushed away from him, from her home, away from everything safe and familiar.

He'd just gone home to Austin and his family.

Gus said she'd never been the same. She'd come home from time to time. Every now and then she'd ridden in a local rodeo or eaten dinner at her brother's diner, but she hadn't been the girl he'd known in Martin's Crossing.

Gus said she was angry and bitter.

Remington saw it as pain. Deep down pain. He saw a woman who was willing to help animals and children but wasn't as willing to let people into her life.

He watched as she helped Aunt Lee put Parker in the car, something Lee had been learning to do in rehab. For the past month his aunt had worked with the staff because there would be things she'd have to do for Parker. He and Gus would help her. They'd given their word they wouldn't let her do this alone. But they all knew that most of it would fall on Parker's grandmother.

Which is why it made sense for him to give up his job in Austin and settle here on his granddad's ranch, the Rocking J. To help Gus, Aunt Lee and Parker.

After Parker was settled in the backseat, Sam leaned to kiss his cheek, then she took a step back, letting his grandmother say something to him. Dr. Jackson moved in to share a few words. And then they called Remington forward.

“Will you pray?” Dr. Jackson asked. “I'd like to send you all home with the best support system available.”

Rem agreed. They could all use a guiding hand in this situation. “Of course I'll pray.”

His gaze strayed in Samantha's direction. She looked away. But he saw the flicker of doubt, the anger. He hadn't expected that.

He bowed his head and prayed. For strength, for healing, for peace. He prayed for a special blessing on the staff that gave such great care to these children.

After he ended the prayer, he glanced her way again. Sam's blue eyes were on him, full of questions. He had answers, but he doubted she really wanted to hear them. Not yet anyway.

He met her clear blue gaze. She raised her chin a notch and walked away, back to the hospital. He told himself not to take it too personally, but he did. He'd never expected this reaction to his decision to go into ministry. He'd dated a woman who didn't like that she sometimes had to share him with others. He'd dated another woman who had finally admitted she just couldn't be the wife of a pastor.

“Time to go,” he said to no one in particular.

“Time to go,” Parker echoed as Remington got behind the wheel.

Remington glanced in the rearview mirror and made eye contact with the little boy. He saw a flash of nervousness before Parker smiled, pretending everything was okay. Going home was a big deal. After months in the hospital, he was headed for a new life, new obstacles. Parker would make it, but no one could blame him for being lost and more than a little apprehensive.

It took twenty minutes to reach the Rocking J. The ranch had a long rutted dirt driveway. On each side of that driveway the ranch spilled out as far as the eye could see. It was Texas Hill Country, so the terrain was rugged and a good portion of the thousand-acre ranch was hilly with clear creeks and plenty of trees. It was about the prettiest place Remington knew.

“This is a ranch!” Parker exclaimed from the backseat. “I'm going to live on a real ranch.”

“Yes, sir, you are,” Gus answered. “We'll make sure you have a few cows of your own so you can start your own herd. Rem started his own herd that way. He has one here and one on his folks' place.”

“I'll have my own cows?” Parker whistled. “And a horse?”