Love Thine Enemy (7 page)

Cheryl, surprised to find her appetite returning, did justice to Sam’s meal, including his light and fluffy biscuits. She sighed inwardly as she glanced across the table at him. He was a good cook, a devoted father and a Christian. None of those were things she expected to find attractive in a man. Especially not a rancher. Somehow, she’d always thought that men who lived this life were hard and bitter. Like her father.

Instead, she was the one with bitterness in her heart. She didn’t like deceiving Sam. He’d done so much for her already. Would he have been as helpful if he’d known who she really was? Maybe. Still, she should tell him. He deserved to know the truth. He looked up and their eyes met.

The air around her seemed to hum with a sudden intimacy.

Tell him who you are. Maybe he won’t care.

As she stared at him, the friendliness of his gaze lightened her heart. Then she remembered the way other
people had looked at her once they realized she was a Thatcher. The looks of condemnation—the looks of pity. Years of knowing people laughed at her behind her back, made fun of her, distrusted her, those feeling didn’t go away simply because she wanted them to.

She looked away from Sam’s gaze and struggled to quell the longings he kindled. She couldn’t bear to see any of those emotions in his eyes.

She would be leaving soon. She would take her secrets with her and go back where no one knew anything about her past—a past she desperately wanted to forget.

To avoid Sam’s scrutiny, she focused her attention on his children. As the meal progressed, she started to think she could detect a slight difference in mannerism between Lindy and Kayla. Lindy seemed more outgoing, a little brasher than her sister. Lindy’s face was a little thinner, too. Cheryl directed several comments to the girls, and Lindy usually answered first.

Suddenly, Kayla dropped her spoon, and both girls piped up, “I’ll get it!” They dived under the table together.

She heard giggling, but the children didn’t reappear until Walter spoke. “Enough playing. Get up here and finish your meal.”

They popped up and sat down in their chairs, but they continued to giggle. Sam tried to hide a grin, as well.

“What’s going on here?” Cheryl asked with growing amusement. “If I had two shoes on, I would be looking to see if you’d tied my laces together.”

“Oh, we wouldn’t—” Kayla started.

“—do that,” Lindy finished.

They ate the rest of their meal between giggles and grins, and as Cheryl studied their faces, she decided she had been mistaken. Kayla’s face was slightly thinner.

When the meal was done, Sam stood and consulted a list posted on the refrigerator door. “Lindy, it’s your turn to load the dishwasher tonight.”

With a small groan, the girl on Cheryl’s right got up and began to clear the table. Bewildered, Cheryl said, “I thought you were Kayla?”

That brought a fresh outburst of laughter from the twins, and Cheryl looked at Sam. He couldn’t keep a straight face.

“Oh, I get it, now,” she said. “You two switched places under the table, didn’t you?”

They nodded, and Cheryl shot Sam and Walter a stern look, but she couldn’t maintain her stoic face, either. They all dissolved into laughter.

The rest of the evening she spent answering dozens of questions from the twins—about dancing, about her career and about New York City. Cheryl sat on the sofa with her foot propped up and answered their rapid-fire questions as best she could.

Walter had gone to his room, but Sam remained and looked on with an indulgent smile as they grilled her. He said, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Cheryl didn’t mind. She loved talking about the city and about her work. “These two should work for CNN. How many questions can they ask in an hour?”

“Enough to fill an encyclopedia. By the end of the night, I’ll know everything there is to know about you.”

Cheryl’s grin faded. Not everything, she hoped.

“Do you have kids?” Lindy asked her.

“No, I don’t.”

The twins exchanged a knowing look, and Kayla said, “Are you married?”

“No.”

Kayla glanced at her father and smiled in spite of the stern look he leveled at her. “Our dad’s not married, either.”

Cheryl sensed where they were going. She propped her elbow on the arm of the sofa and settled her chin on her hand. “I heard that.”

Lindy grew serious. “Don’t you think he’s handsome?”

Cheryl tapped her fingers against her cheek and struggled not to laugh as Sam rolled his eyes. “He’s sort of handsome.”

“Would you like to have some kids?” They both looked at her with hopeful faces.

That threw her. The focus of her life had been dancing, to the exclusion of everything else. And yet, when she’d watched these two and Sam playing in the snow, she’d been filled with a longing to join in the fun, to become a part of something she didn’t really understand—part of a family.

“I’m afraid I don’t have time for a husband or for kids,” she said at last. “I’m much too busy with my career.”

The twins exchanged downcast looks.

Lindy recovered first from their setback. “Is it fun to be a dancer?”

Cheryl pondered the question. “It’s very hard work. I have to practice for hours every day. Sometimes I even get hurt, and I still have to make myself go on. My boss—he’s a choreographer, a person who designs a dance—he can be very tough. He’s seldom happy with how our group performs, and he will make us do it over and over until he thinks it’s right. But yes, it is fun.”

She closed her eyes. “Sometimes when I’m dancing, the music catches me up and carries me along like a bit of thistledown on the wind. I can’t describe it, really, but
dancers call it
the float.
When I’m there, I forget how hard it is, and I only think about how much I love it.”

Sam found his gaze riveted to Cheryl’s face. She was an elegant, sophisticated woman. She glowed with excitement and happiness when she talked about her craft. “You’ve been blessed with a great gift—to love the work you do.”

She met his eyes. “Blessed with a gift. I’ve never thought of it that way. Maybe that’s true.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Girls, it’s bedtime.”

“Not yet!” they pleaded.

“Yes, it is. You’ve had a long day.”

“Can Cheryl read us a story?”

“And listen to our prayers? Please, Daddy?” Lindy pleaded.

“I’d love to, if it’s okay with you, Sam?”

“Please, Daddy?” Kayla added a soulful look.

“Okay.” Sam watched as the twins gathered up the cat and headed for their room. “Can you make it down the stairs?” he asked Cheryl with a glance at her cast.

“Yes, cowboy. I can manage a few stairs.”

“I was going to be gallant and offer to carry you.”

“No. I think I’ll be safer on my one good foot.”

“Okay, but don’t sue me if you fall.”

The elegant, sophisticated woman stuck her tongue out, then followed the twins downstairs.

He would give anything to see her dance, Sam thought. The idea sobered him. She had devoted years of her life to the study and performance of an art he had barely acknowledged. He was attracted to her, yes, but it was useless to think it could lead to anything more. They didn’t have anything in common.

He’d chosen the wrong kind of woman once. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

Cheryl managed the stairs without a mishap. The lower level of Sam’s house was similar to the upper one, except the long room was a recreation room complete with a television, a billiard table and an assortment of games and toys for the children. Brown, overstuffed leather chairs sat grouped around a game table where a chess set waited for someone to finish a game.

The twins headed for one of the four doors along the back wall. “Here’s our room,” one of them announced.

It was Lindy who spoke, Cheryl decided, as she followed her into the room. Twin beds covered in spreads depicting rodeo scenes sat side by side. A pair of rocking horses stood stabled in one corner, decorated with carelessly thrown clothes, and an assortment of horse figurines lined up on the top of a bookshelf. Cheryl barely had time to glance around before the children urged her to see the next room.

“This is Gramps’ room.” Lindy held her fingers to her lips. “He says he goes to sleep early so he can get up with the chickens.”

“That’s funny ’cause we don’t have any chickens,” Kayla confessed.

Cheryl hid her grin with a hand to her mouth.

“This is the guestroom,” Kayla supplied, opening the next door. The room was decorated in the same Indian prints and bold patterns as the living room upstairs. The bed, neatly made, showed no sign that Sam had spent the night there.

The final door turned out to be Sam’s office. Photographs of buildings both old and new as well as pictures of the twins decorated the walls. A large computer
occupied a wide desk and rolled sheets of blueprints were neatly stored in deep bins. A drafting table held sketches of a beautiful stone and glass house. She had only a moment to admire the clean lines of the structure and to wonder what else he’d designed before the twins hurried her away.

They quickly got themselves ready for bed. After dressing in matching pajamas, they knelt beside their beds and folded their hands.

“God bless Daddy—”

“—and Great-Grandpa Walter.”

“God bless Grandma Eleanor—”

“—and Aunt Becky and her baby—”

“—and God bless Bonkers and our new friend, Cheryl.”

Cheryl was moved by the sincerity of their small voices even if she had been lumped in with the cat. When was the last time anyone had prayed for her?

Before her mother passed away Cheryl had believed in God. But when her mother died, what little goodness Cheryl knew died with her. Grandma Doris hadn’t liked the local preacher. She stopped taking Cheryl and Angie to church. Their father was proud of the fact that he’d never set foot inside one.

Cheryl had knelt beside her little sister in those early days and listened to Angie’s prayers. God hadn’t answered those prayers and Cheryl had given up believing in Him. But what if she had been wrong? What if God answered Angie’s prayers in His own time? Angie was happy now with a man who loved her. She said her tough childhood gave her a special insight into the children she wanted to help.

Cheryl found it disturbing to think that the bad things
in her life might have happened for a reason. Sam and his family were making her think about things she had ignored for years.

After their prayers were finished, the girls presented Cheryl with a book. She read them their favorite story of Cinderella from the dog-eared copy. When she had finished, she tucked them in, wished them good-night and turned to leave.

“Wait.” Lindy sat up in bed.

“Daddy always gives us a kiss,” Kayla finished with a yawn.

“Like this?” Cheryl kissed the top of each head.

“Yup.”

“Like that.”

“I’m glad I got it right.” Cheryl smiled softly as she turned off the light and left the room. Sam was waiting outside the door.

“I should be jealous.” His voice, little more than a whisper, caused her pulse to take an erratic leap.

“Why?”

“They never go to bed that easily for me.”

“I think you wore them out playing this afternoon.”

“You might be right,” he conceded with a grin.

“You have beautiful children, Sam. You’re a lucky man.”

“I think so, too. I’ve been blessed,” he answered quietly.

Suddenly, she realized how close he stood. His eyes roved over her face as though he were trying to memorize each feature. She stared for a long moment into his dark eyes. If only things were different. Why wish for such a foolish thing?

“We think she’s beautiful, Daddy,” a little voice said.

“Don’t you think she is?”

Cheryl felt the heat of a blush steal up her cheeks.

Sam looked down at the big eyes of his daughters as they peeked out the crack of their bedroom door. He tried for a stern, fatherly tone but didn’t quite make it.

“I think she’s very pretty.” His mouth twitched as he tried not to smile. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“You didn’t kiss us good-night,” Lindy reminded him.

“Back to bed, both of you. I’ll be in soon.”

“After you kiss Cheryl good-night?”

“Close the door, now!”

It snapped shut. He stepped back a pace and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. They mean well. Good night, Sam.”

“Before you go, I wanted to invite you to attend church with us in the morning. The service starts at nine if you’d like to come.”

“I’m not the church-going type, but thanks,” she said with a shake of her head.

“If you change your mind, the invite will stay open.”

“I won’t.” She didn’t meet his eyes as she turned away.

Sam pushed a hand through his hair as he watched her climb the stairs. He’d always considered himself a smart man, but he sure wasn’t acting like it where she was concerned. He knew better than to get involved with her. By her own admission, her career was more important than a husband or a family. Now, it seemed she didn’t share his faith.

He glanced toward the closed bedroom door. Silently, he vowed to remember that his children were the most important people in his life. They needed good examples, good role models to follow. As much as he felt drawn to Cheryl, she wasn’t what he or his girls needed.

C
heryl tried to concentrate on the book she was reading, but it was useless. She prided herself on being levelheaded, on her ability to stay focused on her career. She had never let a man interfere with her desire to be a successful dancer. Yet, her career was something that seemed to slip to the back of her mind when Sam Hardin was around. He scrambled her common sense without even trying. One glimpse of his endearing, lopsided grin, and her insides turned to jelly.

Glancing out the window, she watched low gray clouds scuttle across the prairie sky. The wind that drove them today was a warm south wind and the snow was melting rapidly. Soon, she’d be able to disappear as fast. The thought brought an ache to her heart as real as the ache in her broken foot.

Sam had pleaded work as his excuse and vanished downstairs after the family returned from church. He’d been down there most of the afternoon. Supposedly, he was working on finding a nanny to take care of the children while his mother was gone.

The twins were playing downstairs, and occasionally the sound of their voices floated up the stairwell. Their happy chatter filled the house with a pleasant hubbub.

Cheryl picked up her book and tried to concentrate again, but when she found herself reading the same page over for the third time, she put it down with disgust. From the corner of her eye, she spied Bonkers walking around the end of the sofa, and she did a double-take.

The cat strolled through the living room dressed in a pink, ruffled, baby dress with little puffy sleeves. His outfit was complete with ruffled underpants that had a hole cut out for his tail. A pink bonnet tied in a lopsided bow beneath his chin was the crowning touch. Cheryl couldn’t help herself—she burst out laughing.

Bonkers paused in his trek across the room, gave her a malevolent stare, then slipped beneath the sofa. A moment later, the twins came pounding up the stairs and piled to a stop in front of Cheryl. She still wasn’t sure which one was which.

“Our baby is missing.”

“Have you seen him?”

Cheryl pointed downward. “I believe he’s under the sofa, girls.”

They dropped to the floor and peered beneath it.

“Yup, he’s under there.”

“I think he’s mad at us.”

“I told you he didn’t want baby lotion on his tail, Lindy.” Kayla’s scolding clued Cheryl into which one was speaking.

“You did not.”

“Did too!”

“Did not!”

“All right, now,” Cheryl intervened. “Bonkers will come out when he’s ready.”

The twins climbed on the sofa beside her.

“I was only trying to be a good mommy. I didn’t know it would make him mad,” Lindy confessed with a long face.

“I’m sure he won’t stay mad, sweetheart. And I think you will be a great mommy,” Cheryl tried to console her.

“Our mommy was a bad mommy,” Lindy said.

Dumbfounded, Cheryl stared at her. “What do you mean?”

“Our mommy didn’t want us,” Kayla answered sadly.

“She gave us away,” Lindy added with a dramatic sigh.

“Just like kittens stuffed in a sack.”

“Who said that?” Cheryl demanded.

Kayla exchanged a glance with her sister. “Jimmy Slader’s mom, after church today.”

“When she didn’t think we were listening,” Lindy added.

“Merci Slader?” Cheryl asked in disbelief.

Both girls nodded.

Cheryl hesitated, uncertain of how to proceed. Having a serious conversation with two five-year-olds was a little out of her league. More than that, she felt she shouldn’t be prying into Sam’s private life.

“What has your father told you about why your mother doesn’t live with you?” she asked gently.

“He said they both loved us,” Kayla volunteered.

“But they didn’t want to be married anymore,” Lindy added.

“Mommy wanted to marry someone else and live far away.”

“And Daddy wanted to live on the ranch.”

“So they chose the bestest place for us to live.”

“Here with Daddy,” Lindy concluded.

A simplified answer for a marital breakup, but Cheryl wasn’t about to delve into anything more complicated. “I think your dad would tell you the truth.”

“I think so, too,” Lindy declared.

“Besides, I don’t remember being in a sack,” Kayla added.

Lindy crossed her arms. “Me neither!”

Cheryl fought back a smile. “I think Jimmy Slader’s mom may be full of hot air.”

The twins giggled, but Kayla grew somber again. “Is it okay if I still love Mommy, even if she didn’t want us?”

“No, you can’t!” Lindy shouted. “I told you that!”

Cheryl gathered them close in a quick, impulsive hug. “Yes, you can, darling. It’s okay to love her.”

She struggled to find the right words. “When someone you love does something bad, you don’t have to like what they’ve done, but you can still love that person.” Her father’s and her brother’s faces came to mind, and she realized the truth of what she was saying. She knew her dad hadn’t been much of a father, but she’d never stopped loving him, never stopped trying to earn his love in return, even though she knew the things he did were wrong. And she’d never stopped loving Jake even after all this time.

She gazed down at the children. “Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

“I think so,” Kayla said.

“Maybe.” Lindy sounded reluctant to agree.

Cheryl smiled softly. “I’ll bet Jimmy Slader loves his mother, even though she’s full of hot air.”

They both grinned, then Lindy said, “Daddy says she wants to take care of us when he can’t be here.”

Kayla crossed her arms and looked sullen. “Until Grandma comes back.”

“’Cause he has to go to Kansas City, and we can’t go with him.”

“But we don’t want her. So he’s gonna find—”

“—a ninny to take care of us.”

Cheryl struggled to keep a straight face with difficulty. “I think you mean a nanny.”

Kayla gave a sharp nod. “Yup, that’s what we said.”

Cheryl caught a quick look that flashed between the two of them. Suddenly, she had the feeling she was being set up.

Lindy looked at her with beseeching brown eyes. “Why don’t you stay and take care of us until Grandma comes back?”

“We like you,” Kayla added sincerely.

Cheryl discovered something new about children then. Even when you knew you were being wheedled, it didn’t keep you from wanting to give in. It tugged at her heart that they would ask her to stay, and she felt like a heel for rejecting their offer.

“I can’t. The only reason I haven’t left already is because I haven’t been able to find my wallet. I lost it out in the snow after my accident, but the snow is almost gone now, and your father will be able to find it soon, and then I have to leave.”

“But you can’t dance with your foot broken. You said so,” Lindy argued.

“I know, but if I’m lucky, I can get a job helping take care of costumes or the sets. Ballet is what I do.” She stroked a hand through each set of downy curls.
“Like your dad takes care of the ranch and builds houses. It’s my job.”

“But why?” they pleaded.

Cheryl didn’t quite know how to convey the meaning of the word
career
to them. “When you dress Bonkers up in baby clothes, that doesn’t make him a real baby, does it? He’s still a cat.”

She paused to see if they understood what she was saying. “Right now I may not seem like a ballerina, but inside I am. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to be.”

The two faces watching her grew sadder with each word she spoke. Their solemn eyes filled with tears.

“You just don’t like us,” Kayla said mournfully.

“That’s not true,” Cheryl insisted.

Bonkers sprang up beside them on the sofa. His bonnet hung from his neck by a shredded ribbon. Lindy gathered up her make-believe baby, and the girls climbed down. Cheryl reached out to stop them, but Bonkers flattened his ears and hissed at her, and she snatched her hand back.

Sam stood at the top of the stairs as the somber-faced pair marched around him without a word. Cheryl cast him a pleading glance, but he shook his head. “You have only known them for two days. I’ve had to cope with them for five years, and they still do it to me. Welcome to the Giant Rat Fink Club.”

“If those two don’t end up on the stage, the world will be denied the presence of great actresses,” Cheryl said in awe.

“I hate to tell you this, New York, but they’re just getting started.”

He walked over and sat beside her on the sofa. “I have to admit, it’s a good idea. I’m sure I can’t pay you
what a ballerina earns. In spite of appearances, ranching isn’t always a prosperous business, but I think I can pay you what a ninny would make.”

They exchanged amused glances. “I think you have an exaggerated idea of what a ballerina pulls down,” she said. “It’s a tempting offer, Sam, but no.”

“You said yourself that you can’t dance. This way you have a place to stay and a little money coming in until your foot is healed.”

“Sam, I can’t. I adore your kids, but I have to rejoin my company.”

He grew serious as he studied her face. He reached out and brushed a wisp of hair back from the edge of her jaw, then dropped his hand. He stood and smiled at her. “I hate to think you’re leaving us for a bunch of guys in pink tights.”

A grin struggled through her sadness. Trust Sam to find a way to make her smile.

He gave a nod in the direction of the stairs. “I’ve got to get back to work now. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Do you think you could stay until Friday at least? I really do need to go to Kansas City on Thursday. If I can convince these clients to go with my design, it’ll mean a lot. It seems the girls aren’t crazy about Merci’s offer to let them stay with her. Walter thinks he can handle them, but the truth is, I’d feel better if I had someone to look after all of them.”

“I’ll stay until then,” she conceded. “It’s the least I can do after all you’ve done for me. Besides, I can’t go anywhere until I have my wallet back, or until I know for sure I need to report everything as lost.”

“Thanks. Most of the snow is gone. I’ll go look for it again this afternoon,” he offered, turning to leave.

“Thanks, Sam.” Cheryl watched him walk back to the staircase. His broad shoulders slumped as he thrust his hands deep in his pockets. Watching him walk away, she had the strangest feeling that she’d just lost something very valuable, and it wasn’t her wallet.

Sam checked on the twins, but they weren’t in their room. It wasn’t unusual for them to retreat to the barn or the garden when they were unhappy. He’d talk to them about Cheryl’s leaving later.

Back in his office, he sat down at his desk, dropped his head onto both hands and raked his fingers through his hair. All he had to do was find a way to tell the twins they couldn’t have what he wanted, too. For Cheryl to stay.

He reminded himself once again that this attraction couldn’t go anywhere. She was the exact opposite of what he needed. He needed a woman who wanted to be a mother to his children. Cheryl was beautiful, funny and intelligent, but she wasn’t interested in being a mother, or in living on a ranch. She had a life planned that was far different. A life he and his children could have no part in.

An hour later, he heard the twins return. He opened their bedroom door to find two muddy and tired girls. They nodded quietly when he told them Cheryl wouldn’t be staying. The arguments he expected didn’t materialize. He left their room feeling a little worried and more than a bit suspicious of such cooperative behavior.

The weather warmed up to its normal springtime high the next day. By afternoon, the snow was gone
except for a few drifts that lingered in the shade of the buildings and trees.

By mutual and unspoken consent, Sam and Cheryl avoided any talk of her leaving. Cheryl expected the time to pass awkwardly but was surprised to find that she enjoyed a growing friendship with Sam. If her smiles were too bright, or her humor a little forced, no one seemed to notice. When she found herself longing for something more, she ruthlessly pushed those feelings aside. And if she wasn’t sleeping well, she put it down to her aching foot.

The twins were treating her like royalty, she noted, as they carefully carried her lunch tray out onto the balcony for an impromptu picnic on the second day of beautiful weather. The snow was gone from the hillside where she had watched them sledding. Here and there, hardy spring flowers that had been hidden by the snow were putting in an appearance.

Cheryl was enjoying her time with the girls when the sound of footsteps caused her heart to flutter and skip a beat. Sam came up the stairs that led to the balcony from a walk at the side of the house.

“Am I too late for lunch?” he asked.

“Nope, you’re just in time.” Lindy presented him with a messy version of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “I made it myself,” she announced proudly.

Cheryl had already sampled hers. She watched Sam take a seat and tip his hat back.

“This is what I like,” he stated cheerfully.

“Peanut butter and jelly?” Cheryl inquired with a raised eyebrow.

“Nope. Having lunch with three pretty ladies.” He drew smiles from all the ladies with his blatant flattery
and took a hearty bite of his sandwich. He had a little jelly left on the side of his mouth when he finished, and Cheryl found herself holding his chin steady to wipe it off with her napkin. His teasing grin faded, and his eyes darkened. She let her hand fall back to the table and looked away.

Across from them the twins glanced at each other and smiled slyly. “Can we go play?”

“Sure,” Sam answered absently, and they took off.

Easy, Sam, he cautioned himself. You can be friends, but nothing more. He tried to concentrate on something besides the way she made him wish she wasn’t the wrong woman for him.

“The girls really like you,” he said. “Not many people can learn to tell them apart as quickly as you have.”

“I adore them. They’re as bright as new pennies. You’ve done a fine job with them, Sam.”

“Thanks. You should have kids of your own. You’re great with them.” He dropped his gaze to his plate. That was a stupid thing to say. He must be as transparent as glass, but what would it hurt to put the idea out and see how she reacted? He held his breath as he waited for her reply.