The Rancher’s Second Chance Read online

Sammie blinked at Cole. She felt a sharp squeeze in her chest as she studied his face. It was so full of strength but vulnerable too. She couldn't help but reach out and touch it. “That sounds great. But I have one condition.”

  “What's that?”

  She spread her hands. “Help me with the cooking?”

  Sammie knew that once she had Cole on board with her plan, everything would come together. And just as she'd hoped, he stepped right in, breaking down the guest list to figure out the menu and laughing good-naturedly at Sammie's weak attempts at chili.

  “Let me handle this,” he'd told her, fastening the apron over his work shirt without a moment's hesitation. “You've lived on the East Coast for too long to be trusted with chili duty.”

  She'd laughed and only protested a little, grateful for his help. And with the two of them working in shifts, they soon had the fridge stuffed with food ready to heat up and serve on the day of the party. Some of Sammie's nervousness about the menu eased.

  But her nervousness about the actual party remained firmly in place—with all of the nail-biting insomnia that came with it—until the moment the first guest arrived.

  Cheryl and Bert were the first to arrive. Cheryl waved madly from her truck, nearly spilling the casserole dish perched on her arm as she shouted questions across the driveway. Sammie waved back and mimed cupping a hand to her ear. “Sorry, what?”

  Cheryl waved her off, and turned her questions on her hapless husband, who just bowed his head and nodded along.

  Cole appeared next to Sammie as the two new arrivals reached the porch. “Can I get you a beer, Bert?”

  “That'd be great, boss,” the old hand said faintly.

  Gil and his wife Rosie were next. Tina from the daycare rolled up in a pick-up that looked like it had been patched together, Frankenstein's-monster style, from all different parts, followed quickly by Nancy, Richard and the boys.

  Sammie thought that she saw Richard raise a meaningful eyebrow at Cole as they walked up onto the porch, but any questions she might have about its meaning were forgotten once Joe and Casey, the two part- timers, pulled up in Casey's truck, and stood there with their hands in their pockets looking nervous.

  “Come on in!” Sammie called, beckoning with a smile. She'd never felt more like her mother, standing on the porch and welcoming the hands this way. It felt...good.

  Soon the house was full. Tina was a big hit with Joe and Casey. Nancy's three boys kept Devon well-entertained, and Sammie considered the gigantic platters of food each one of them consumed to be a small price to pay for that service. She was almost feeling proud of her efforts and that they may have paid off, when Nancy came over and touched her arm.

  “I don't mean to get ahead of myself,” Cole's sister said, lowering her voice. “But I hope you'll be making sure this place gets decorated for Christmas?” She pressed her hand to her heart. “Your mama, she used to put out the best decorations, we'd always make the drive just to see them."

  “Um, well...”

  "I was telling the boys on the way over about the special star your mama always had mounted on the roof here, and how you could see it for miles and miles. You think you're gonna do that again? They're all excited to see it now.” Nancy gazed at her with naked hope.

  Sammie's breath caught. “Uh. I have to say, I haven't really thought that far ahead.”

  “It'd mean so much to the town."

  “Yes. Uh.” Sammie looked around wildly for Cole. The big cowboy was with the hands, listening with a grave expression as Bert recounted some old yarn. “I might be able to arrange it, just let me...”

  Sammie scooted away, and made a beeline for Cole's side. “Hey darlin',” he said, slinging his arm over her shoulder.

  With his comforting weight holding her down, Sammie felt less like she might float away at any moment. How on Earth did she ever think that this party would help her belong? All it seemed to be doing was reminding people that she wasn't the town fixture her mother had been. She wasn't the storied figure who could make everyone's Christmas better just by mounting a star on the roof.

  And she never would be.

  She worriedly chewed on her fingernail, only half listening to Bert's ramblings. So when Richard came up to Cole and tapped his shoulder, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  “Can I have a word?” Richard jerked his head towards the corner.

  She didn't miss the way Cole was on immediate alert. Cole glanced back at Sammie. “You good?”

  “Yeah, but...” The look on Richard's face was making her concerned. “Is everything okay, Richard?”

  “Just need to give Cole a little update on—” He glanced at Cole again and raised an eyebrow.

  Cole's eyes widened, and he nodded.

  “Cole?” Sammie's throat tightened.

  “I'll be right back, darlin'.” His crooked smile didn't quell her flutter of panic, though.

  What could Richard possibly be telling Cole right now, right in the middle of her party like this? Without Cole at her side, she felt unstable, like she was missing a limb. She needed him, and as much as she liked having someone to depend on, she couldn't help but think of how much easier it had been when she could handle everything all by herself. Would she always need help here at Bitter Ridge?

  What was she thinking? She wasn't staying here. And that was best. It was easier in academia. There she knew where she stood. She knew what she was capable of, and the only surprises were the ones she hadn't prepared enough to meet. It was so different here in Hope Springs.

  “Sammie, you doin' okay over here, hon?” Nancy opened a bag of chips and dumped the contents into an empty bowl. Her three sons descended upon it as soon as she stepped back. “You look like you got something on your mind.”

  Sammie glanced over at the corner. Cole had his hand over his mouth and was watching Richard speak with narrow, angry eyes. Sammie shivered. “Nan, can I ask you something?”

  “Sure!”

  “Any idea what that's all about?” She gestured to Richard and Cole.

  Nancy's eyebrows shot skyward. She opened her mouth, shut it, and then twisted her hands together. “Maybe you ought to ask Richard about that yourself.”

  “I did. He wanted to talk to Cole in private.”

  “Sammie!” Cole raised his voice above the din of the party.

  She looked up sharply. “What's going on?”

  Cole looked over at the hands, which was strange. He dropped his gaze and then inclined his head, beckoning her over with a silent gesture.

  Sammie looked at Nancy. “Go on, honey,” the older woman urged.

  “You know what this is about?”

  “I may.”

  That panic was back. “Is it bad?” Is it about Cole and Devon? Is Cole going to tell me he and Devon are moving in with Richard and Nancy because it's less confusing for the little boy to be around family?

  Sammie blinked. Now where on earth had that worry sprung from? She shook her head to clear it and then moved to Cole's side.

  “What's going on? You’ve got me all worried.”

  Cole nodded at Richard, who blew out a sigh. “Cole here asked me to tell him what I found before I did anything about it. Now he's telling me to wait until you hear it, too.

  “It's her ranch,” Cole stated flatly.

  “That it is. Fine.” Richard turned to Sammie. “Cole wanted me to do some snooping around.”

  “He did?” Sammie looked sharply at Cole, but he held up a hand and motioned for her to listen. She clamped her mouth shut with an angry sneer and reminded herself that she trusted him. And needed him.

  “Asked me to take a look at all the repairs y'all keep having crop up.”

  “We have had a run of bad luck.”

  “It ain't bad luck, Samantha.” Richard's tone brooked no argument. “It's deliberate.”

  “You mean...?”

  Richard lowered his voice. “Two of your hands stop by Peter Jensen's office at the end of every workday. Any ideas
as to why they would do that?”

  Sammie opened her mouth and then closed it. She stared at Cole. The set of his jaw was grim. And determined.

  “Who?” he asked Richard.

  “Now I told you I'd pass this info on as a courtesy, being as you're family and all. But Cole, the lawman in me has gotta ask you point blank—what are you gonna do with the names I'm about to give you?”

  “He's not going to do anything,” Sammie interjected.

  Richard looked satisfied. “I'm sure you'll keep him in line.” He nodded approvingly.

  “It's not that at all.” Sammie crossed her arms. “Cole is ranch foreman, but ultimately this is my place. If you're telling me that I've got traitors on my payroll, I plan on dealing with them myself.”

  Both men stared at her with twin expressions of shock. Sammie was shocked right along with them. The idea of letting Cole take care of the saboteurs was more than appealing, and she knew he'd happily take that responsibility on.

  But dammit, this was her home. Star or no star, it was hers.

  “Names, Officer Kepler.” She held out her hand as if ready to take them from him physically.

  Richard sighed. “The past three days, Gilbert Duncan and Joseph Connelly have pulled up in a truck registered to Joseph Connelly, and walked into the offices of Jensen Holdings between the hours of 6 and 6:30 p.m. They were observed walking out the back entrance on Tuesday, with Gilbert Duncan carrying a hacksaw in his left hand.”

  “The cut pipe,” Cole growled.

  “I took it upon myself to pay Jensen Holdings a little visit yesterday. While listening to your cousin's plans for the town—that frankly sound terrible—I observed with my own two eyes a generator in the back office matching the description of the one Cole says went missing from the ranch.”

  Sammie pressed her hand to her heart. She wanted to gasp. To rage and scream and drag Gil and Joe out of the party by their ears. How dare they show up today and accept her food and hospitality when they were actively working to undermine everything she was trying to do?

  “Cole—” Sammie started to say, ready to tell him to throw the bums out.

  Then she looked around the party and stopped short.

  Devon had Nancy down on the floor with him as Cheryl laughed from the sofa. Joe and Casey had been roped into a game of catch by Nancy's two younger sons. The older son was listening intently as Cheryl's husband Bert explained how to throw a football in a perfect spiral. Tina was shoving heaping spoonfuls of chili into her mouth as she laughed with Gil, flirting with the old man like mad and making him blush and stammer.

  Everyone in her life was here under her roof. Bitter Ridge was alive again, just as it had been when her mother was the hostess. And it was because of her.

  “Sammie? You need me to take care of this?” Cole murmured.

  She squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you, no. Richard, I'm really grateful to you for looking into this for us. I'll handle it from here.”

  Sammie straightened her shoulders, then thinking quickly, she gathered her hair back in a quick, efficient twist. Like the one she wore while taking charge of an unruly lecture hall full of freshmen.

  “Joe?” she called across the room. “Gil? Can you both give me a hand over here?”

  The hands looked at each other, and Sammie hoped it wasn't her imagination that put the guilty looks right on their faces.

  “Yes, ma'am,” Joe muttered.

  “Right over here, please.” She led them into the kitchen before facing them, hands on her hips. “Now, let's not dance around it, okay? Do me the honor of being straight with me, if not for my sake, then for the sake of my parents and grandparents. Is my cousin paying you to slow down our repairs?”

  “Ms. Jensen,” Gil stuttered immediately. “I meant no disrespect. Money's tight; you know I've lost my pension. And Peter kept bothering us.”

  Joe looked like he was about to cry. “And you know my grandmother's meds just keep going up.”

  Sammie pressed her lips together. “I see. You told me the truth, so I'm going to do you the favor of not firing you. I also won't ask Officer Kepler over there to haul you off in cuffs.”

  “Thank you, ma'am,” Gil blurted. Joe looked like he was about to faint.

  “But what I will tell you is this.” Sammie held up a warning finger. “If there is one more problem on this ranch—I don't care if you have nothing to do with it, I'm talking if one single drop of water leaks from the irrigation line, one tiny hole gets put in a feed bag, one branch so much as threatens to fall on our power lines—I'm holding you responsible and bringing in the law. Bitter Ridge is going to run like clockwork because you're both going to give it your all.”

  Gil nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, ma'am.”

  “And one more thing.” She turned to Joe. “You're going to give that cousin of mine a message. You listening? I want you to tell him this verbatim.”

  The old man prodded the younger, but when Joe didn't respond, Gil just sighed. “We're listening, ma'am.”

  Sammie lifted her chin. “You tell him if he stops this nonsense right now, I might still invite him to Christmas dinner. I'll be serving it here. On my mother's plates.”

  Eighteen

  Cole sang along with the radio at the top of his voice as he scrubbed the last bit of the day's dirt off his body. He emerged from the shower, still humming, then pulled up short.

  Sammie was sitting on his bed cross- legged, one bare foot swinging tantalizingly. She grinned at him.

  “A singing cowboy,” she remarked. “Boy, you just really are the complete package, aren't you, Cole Baker?”

  He caught where her eyes landed and gave her a wink. “Thought you already knew that, darlin’,” he told her with a grin.

  “Can’t say I’ve ever heard you sing like that before. Maybe you should’ve tried out for choir.”

  “Hell, no. I only sing like that when the mood strikes me.”

  “And what mood is that?”

  “A good one,” he said, running his fingers up and down her bare leg.

  She bit her lip. He loved that blush on her cheeks. “Tell me something good. I need it.”

  Sensing she wasn’t in the mood for what he was thinking, he reluctantly pulled on his T-shirt. “Gil and Joe were on their best behavior all day today. I swear, if those two had just acted right from the very beginning, we could have had this place in top shape within a week.”

  “Things worked out?” she asked, and Cole liked to think that he was the only person she allowed to see the vulnerable jut of her chin.

  He grinned proudly. “I’ll say. You put the fear of God in them, darlin'. We got through that last little bit of repairs and then some. Even started breaking ground on the vegetable garden I promised you.”

  “Really?” Sammie looked impressed, and Cole couldn’t help but puff up a little bit with pride. “Boy, when you set your mind to something…” She trailed off meaningfully and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

  He struck a mock indignant pose. “Don't you be eyeing me like that, young lady. We got a full day’s work ahead of us tomorrow, and I need my beauty sleep.” He slid his hand up her thigh.

  She eyed his hand coyly and ran her tongue along her lip. “Busy day tomorrow, huh? Yeah, then we should definitely rest, if you've got plans. What do you have in mind?” She took his hand and pressed it against her breast.

  Cole made a sound low in his throat. “Is this what you consider foreplay these days? Talking ranch plans?” He kissed her shoulder.

  She bent her neck to him, exposing the curve of her throat. “Is it weird? Yeah, I know it's weird. But keep talking.” She laughed as he nibbled her ear.

  He kissed that spot under her ear lobe that he knew made her toes curl. “Well, darlin', now that we finally caught up with everything, it’s time to start laying in supplies. We got some new foals, and they’re ready to start eating regular feed. How are you feeling?” He slid his hand between her legs. “Up for a trip to the sup
ply store?”

  “Is that what we're calling it now? Oh yeah, baby, take me to the supply store.” She nipped at his chin.

  “I'll take you to the supply store all night long.”

  “So hot,” she moaned.

  He laughed and slid to his knees, spreading her legs. “All kidding aside, we do need to make a real supply run,” he warned as he kissed her inner thigh. “You up for it?”

  “Mm, will you be there with me?” she asked. He loved when she made sure they were a team.

  “Hell, yeah, darlin’, I’m always with you. Whatever you need.”

  “I need you to take off that shirt right now.”

  “You've got it, boss.”

  * * *

  “What’s your favorite color, little man?”

  Devon considered solemnly as Cole finished the diaper change. His eyes went even wider than usual. “Faybrit cudder,” he finally repeated, tilting his head in the way his mother used to do when she didn’t understand what the hell Cole was going on about either.

  It made him laugh. “What color do you like best?” He pulled Devon’s tiny little Levi’s on with an authoritative tug.

  “I like yellow,” Devon said, pronouncing his Y very, very carefully.

  Cole nodded. “Would you like to have a yellow room, then?”

  Devon looked around the room as if picturing it with differently colored walls. Cole followed his gaze. “Yeah, I think it’s time we started making this place a little bit homier. A coat of paint, maybe some actual curtains? What do you think, yellow curtains too?”

  “Yes.” Devon nodded.

  Cole laughed again and hefted his son onto his hip. “What color should Daddy’s room be?” he asked, part of him hoping his son would have a definite opinion about that topic as well.

  Because the idea of actually staying somewhere that was “his” enough to change the paint color...the idea was so simple, but he'd never considered it. His whole life, he'd lived under someone else's roof, with someone else's color scheme on the walls. First he'd lived in his parents' house, then he'd lived in the barracks, then he’d gone from rental to rental with Trish.