Rodeo Sweetheart (8 page)

It was a game, all right.

“Y
ou didn’t have to come.” Sam shot a sidelong glance at Ethan, who ambled along beside her on Miss Priss. A breeze chilled the morning heat on Sam’s back. Even Diego’s withers felt warm under her fingers. Just another typical July day in Appleback, Texas. She pushed at the cowboy hat on her head, knowing her hair must be a sweaty mess underneath. “You could have gone with Cole and the others on the regular ride.”

“Checking fences is part of ranch life, isn’t it?” Ethan grinned and the sun highlighted his brown hair. “I want to learn it all.”

“It might get boring.”

“I doubt that.” Ethan’s eyes held a deeper meaning and Sam quickly looked away, her heart stuttering.

Beneath her, Diego stirred and Sam tried to calm the rush of emotion her mount noticed. “Better you than Ethan,” she mumbled to the horse.

Ethan leaned over in the saddle. “What’s that?”

“Nothing.” Sam smiled, hoping it covered the confusion she knew lingered in her eyes. She squeezed Diego’s side to
urge him into a trot. “Let’s go. At this rate, we’ll never finish checking the borders.”

They rode toward the east perimeter, the weeds and overgrown grass parting around the horses’ legs. Ethan didn’t bounce nearly as hard in the saddle as he did on their first trail ride, and Sam shoved back the smidgen of pride for her part in the improvement. She might be a good teacher but Ethan, as much as she hated to admit it, had natural ability on a horse. He just needed the time and confidence—which he was obviously gaining as he no longer clung to the saddle horn—to develop it.

“What happens if we find a break in the fence?” Ethan’s eager expression seemed as if he hoped they would.

“We note it and send Cole back later to fix it.”

“You can’t fix it yourself?” Ethan’s cocked eyebrow held a challenge, and Sam bristled.

“Of course I
could.
But it’s barbed wire and Cole’s stronger. He can pull it three times as fast as me.” Not to mention she hated messing with those sharp barbs. Besides, it wasn’t like she didn’t already have enough on her cracked, overflowing plate. “Time is money on a farm.”

Ethan’s mouth twitched.

“What? You think
you
could do it?” Sam pulled Diego to a halt.

Ethan stopped Miss Priss and urged the mare in a circle to face Sam. She tried not to be impressed at the easy movements he used, as if he’d been doing it for years instead of days. Ethan shrugged. “It can’t be that hard.”

“In that case, why don’t you come out with Cole later and let him show you the ropes?” Sam snorted. Less than a week on a horse and Ethan thought he was a real working cowboy? Typical. “You’ll think twice.”

“Oh, yeah?” Ethan shifted in the saddle. “I think I could pick it up after one try.”

“One section of fence, and you’re an expert? I’d let Cole be the judge of that.”

“Then let him.” Ethan grinned. “What do you say?”

Sam tilted her head. “All right. Kate and I were planning on going to the Appleback street fair tomorrow night. I say if you don’t—under Cole’s supervision—fix any broken fence within two hours’ time, then you have to sign up for the dunking booth.”

“And if I make the deadline?”

Sam pursed her lips. “You won’t.”

“But if I do…” Ethan’s eyes glimmered in challenge. “You have to enter.”

Sam sidled Diego up close to Miss Priss and offered her hand to Ethan. “Deal.”

They shook, and Sam smirked. She couldn’t wait to see Ethan and his trademark polo floating in a pool of water.

Ethan winced as another barb bit into his glove. Cole, several feet down by the post, shot him a knowing look and Ethan tugged harder at the fencing despite his screaming biceps. He couldn’t let Cole know he was struggling, or the cowboy wouldn’t tell Sam that Ethan did the job correctly. The only thing worse than splashing into a small town’s annual dunking booth would be the gloating look on Sam’s face if he lost.

He pulled again. No matter who won, at least Ethan had a date to the fair. Sam never would have considered inviting him to come with her and Kate otherwise. Ethan wrinkled his brow. Invited, challenged—same difference, right? Regardless, Ethan now had tangible proof to show his father he was
spending time with Sam doing fun things. Bottom line—if he was with her, Daniel wouldn’t have a chance to move in. Never had appearances become so important.

And never had a work project become this complicated.

He shuddered at the thought of his father finding out Ethan’s real plans to leave the company. He pushed aside the thought and concentrated on the physical ache in his muscles. He’d never worked so hard, but the thought of getting to spend tomorrow with Sam in a non-chore atmosphere made sweating over a prickly pile of fencing almost worth it.

Although, on second thought, it would be awfully hard to explain to his dad why he was out in a pasture in the middle of the afternoon, helping to repair a fence instead of working to destroy it as Jeffrey requested. The complications kept piling up. It’d be pretty simple to sabotage the fence, even under Cole’s scrutiny. But Ethan refused to participate in his father’s devious plans. He’d rather make excuses to his dad than hurt Sam any more than he was already going to have to.

“How does this work, exactly?” Ethan strained harder and his gloves slipped. The fencing snapped free and fell to the ground in a messy tangle of wire. He sucked in his breath. Now he’d done it. Once Sam heard about this, he’d lose for sure. He turned his gaze to Cole, who snickered.

“Guess this might be a good time to introduce you to a little thing I like to call a fence stretcher.” Cole held up a long yellow tool and grinned.

Ethan’s mouth opened. “You’ve got to be kidding me. How long were you going to let me pretend that I was being productive?”

“I reckon ’bout ’til you gave up.”

“Great.” Ethan ran his gloved hand over his face and groaned.

Cole began stringing the wire through the machine. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Sam. I know about your little challenge.”

Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you help me?”

“Sam needs a dose of her own medicine now and then.” Cole pushed his cowboy hat back with one hand. “Besides, it’d be pretty funny to see her in that dunking booth. She takes herself too seriously.”

“So you’re going to tell her I fixed the fence?” Ethan couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Reckon there’s no reason not to—because that’s exactly what you’re going to do.” Cole’s face drifted back into his usual scowl. “Now get over here, you’re not getting out of this without some work.”

Ethan scrambled to follow the cowboy’s orders, his heart light for the first time in days. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Sam’s face when Cole gave her the progress report, or hear the inevitable scream when Sam realized what she’d agreed to. He checked his watch and winced. They’d be cutting it close.

He took the tool from Cole and got to work.

Sam almost swallowed her gum as she glimpsed Ethan and Cole riding toward the barn on Miss Priss and Salsa—laughing. She’d figured Cole would have torn Ethan to shreds after hours of fence repair—both physically and emotionally. But the smile Ethan wore as the twosome dismounted by the stable was brighter than the stars beginning to poke through the navy sky.

She hesitantly made her way toward them, automatically reaching out to take Miss Priss’s reins from Ethan.

“I’ve got her.” Ethan’s hair, mussed, sweaty and without an ounce of leftover gel, flopped on his forehead and he shook
it back with a grin. “A man’s got to finish what he starts, right?” He nodded once at Cole before leading Miss Priss into the barn.

Sam turned toward Cole and fisted her hands on her hips. “Okay, what happened out there? You two left as Felix and Oscar from
The Odd Couple,
and came back all buddy-buddy.”

Cole unbuckled the girth and tugged the saddle from his mount’s back. “Ethan did it.” He hefted the saddle onto the fence rail.

“Did what?” Sam reached out to balance the saddle while Cole removed the blanket from the horse.

“Repaired the fence.”

Sam shook her head. “Impossible.”

“He did the work. Why would I lie?” Cole draped the blanket over one arm and held out both hands for the saddle.

Sam dropped the leather seat over Cole’s arm a little harder than necessary and he staggered backward under the sudden weight. “He knows nothing about fences. Or riding. Or horses.” Her blood pulsed fiery hot in her veins. No way did Ethan stroll out to the pasture and easily repair a barbed-wire fence, even with Cole’s help. Who did he think he was, The Lone Ranger?

“He’s a fast learner.” Cole turned toward the barn with a little shrug. “What can I say?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed as Cole disappeared into the shadows of the stable. Beside her, Salsa nickered and Sam rubbed his hairy cheek. “Those two are up to something.” Salsa tossed his neck as if in agreement.

Reality sounded like a clanging dinner bell and Sam sucked in her breath. If she kept to her word, she was now officially an entrant in the Appleback fair dunking booth. Her stomach flipped at the thought of that cold, dirty water. Cole must have somehow heard about the challenge and lied about Ethan’s
progress as a joke. That would explain Ethan’s sudden aptitude for fence work.

Ethan strode back outside to the paddock and looped his arms over the top rail. “Did you hear the good news?” He grinned.

She tugged at Salsa’s reins to lead the horse forward, but Ethan followed close beside her. “So? Did Cole tell you?”

Sam turned to go around him, but it was like backing a trailer into a narrow driveway—hard. She stopped walking. “He lied to me about your work, if that’s what you mean.”

Ethan’s expression tightened. “Do you really think I’m that incompetent?”

“Maybe not at accounting or consulting or whatever it is you do for your millions.” Sam sidestepped him again, and Salsa’s hoof narrowly missed Sam’s boot. “But at ranch life, yes.”

“So all this work I’ve been doing the past several days—none of it matters to you?” Ethan’s features hardened to stone.

Sam’s mouth opened and closed. It did matter—that was the problem. Ethan was picking up the rhythm of the farm faster than Sam could have ever expected, and for some reason, it bothered her more than she wanted to admit. “Whatever.” She started once again for the barn. No time to think about such things, not with Salsa needing to be untacked and Sam’s midnight practice ride on Lucy to think about. There were bigger issues at stake, bigger than a street fair and bigger than Ethan’s wounded feelings.

Bigger than her heart demanding an evaluation.

Ethan caught her arm. “Listen, Cole knew about our deal. He said he’d cover for me, because he wanted to play a joke on you. But I really did the work on the fence after he showed me how the fence stretcher operated. He isn’t lying.”

Salsa snorted over Sam’s shoulder and she leaned against the horse’s neck, enjoying the warmth against the cool eve
ning air and the comfort of the familiar touch against her back. If people could be even half as understanding and sympathetic as horses, the world would be a better place.

“Do you believe me?” Ethan inched closer, his breath teasing her hair.

She didn’t want to say yes. It’d be much easier to believe Ethan was just a rich New Yorker who couldn’t put his boots on the right feet; much easier to believe the guys just wanted to pull a prank on her over the dunking booth. But the look in Ethan’s gaze proved it was more than that. And if she looked closer—
way
more.

Sam abruptly straightened. “I believe you.” She had to tell the truth. But she didn’t have to tell how her stomach did a boot-scootin’ line dance at Ethan’s close proximity.

“Good.” Ethan eased slightly away, not breaking eye contact. “So, tomorrow night? You, me and the fair?”

“And Kate,” Sam reminded. Her heart stammered and she blamed it on too much caffeine. Definitely not because of those heartfelt brown orbs trying to burrow into her defenses.

“Right. Well, you better bring your pitchin’ arm.”

Sam paused. “Me? What do you mean?”

“You never let me finish. I did the work—but it took longer than two hours.” His lips twisted to the side in mock disgust. “Two hours and twenty minutes. I’m pretty sure Cole won’t ever let me forget that.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “So you’re going to sit in the tank?” Him. Not her. She let out a slow breath of relief. Talk about a close one.

“That was the deal, wasn’t it? And here you thought I wasn’t honest.” Ethan shoved away from the fence with a smile.

As hard as Sam tried to pull up her previous frustration, all she could do was smile back.

“S
tep right up, folks. That’s right, step right up here and I’ll show you a cowboy in a box.” The man in a large hat and striped pants on stilts, who Sam knew was really Bobby Gillum from the Grill My Grits Diner on Main Street, teetered near the tank where Ethan perched on a wooden collapsible seat wearing an oversize rubber cowboy hat. “That’s right, a cowboy destined to get soaked.”

Sam laughed at Bobby’s circus-announcer impersonation—he really should have practiced his bit a little more—and waved at Ethan, who adjusted his position on the wobbling board. She couldn’t help but grin. He waved back, his expression dubious as he glanced down at the water lapping at his dangling feet.

Kate and Daniel—he just
had
to tag along uninvited when he’d heard of their plans—had left a few minutes ago to snag some cotton candy for the three of them. Sam was waiting until they got back to take her turn. So far, Ethan had been fortunate. There’d been nothing but a crowd of overeager Little Leaguers with bad aim and a few gnarled old-timers who’d attempted to soak him. He remained dry—for now.

Kate appeared at Sam’s side, cotton candy in hand. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing yet.” Sam turned to Bobby. “I’ll take a shot.” The gathering afternoon crowd parted and murmured their approval as she made her way to the front. She handed Bobby three red tickets and plucked a softball from the bucket.

“Give the lady some room, folks,” Bobby boomed, stumbling toward the crowd and waving his hands to clear the area. “This one looks like a winner!”

Ethan crossed his arms over his chest and waited, his dimples making a defiant appearance on his tanned cheeks. He shook his head. “She needs all the room she can get—and a little luck!”

“Sounds like fighting words,” Bobby teased. “Come on, Miss. Let’s see what you got.”

Sam wound her arm a few times to loosen the muscles and drove the ball toward the target. It bounced harmlessly off the plastic net. The crowd booed.

“Wow, look at those muscles.” A college-aged girl standing near Sam nudged her friend in the side, her eyes riveted on Ethan.

A prick of jealousy snagged Sam’s stomach. She shouldn’t care what a bouncy little blonde teen thought of him. But Ethan didn’t even seem to notice the girls, as he kept his eyes trained on Sam—and winked.

Her heart stuttered, and she quickly prepared her next shot.
Focus, focus.

Bam.
The ball slammed against the target and Ethan splashed into the murky water. Sam gasped and then threw her arms in the air in victory. “Yes!”

He resurfaced with a gasp for air and sloshed his hair back from his eyes. The crowd roared with laughter and Sam offered a sheepish shrug. Kate grinned around her cone of cotton
candy and Daniel shook his head with a smile, as if he knew Sam was going to hear about it from Ethan later and he couldn’t wait to watch.

With all the dignity Ethan could muster—which wasn’t much, as most of it still floated with the dirty water in the tank—he struggled back onto the seat and waved good-naturedly to the taunting crowd.

Then his eyes met Sam’s and she felt as if she was the one drowning.

Ethan changed clothes inside the public fairground restrooms and joined Kate, Daniel and Sam back outside. He shook his head at Daniel’s offer of cotton candy.

“Good thing you don’t have my red hair and matching temper.” Kate grinned, bits of pink sugar stuck to her cheeks. “Or Sam would be in trouble right now.”

Ethan shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, and offered Sam an easy smile. “Hey, I agreed to the dare, fair and square. I had to pay my dues—even if she was the only one to soak me during my entire shift.” He nudged her with his elbow.

“What can I say? I have good aim.” Sam nudged back, her light brown hair pulled up in a high ponytail. Already loose tendrils escaped around her face. She looked prettier than any city girl he’d ever seen in New York—and with apparently little effort. Ethan’s breath hitched and he tried to cover the hiccup sound with a cough.

“What, no fight? That’s no fun.” Daniel tossed his cone into a nearby trash can. “I was all fired up for a blow-out between you two.” He laughed.

“You want fun? Let’s hit the Gravy Train. It’s the fastest roller coaster this side of the Mississippi.” Kate threw away her nearly empty cone of sugar and wiped her hands on her
jeans. Pink tufts stuck to the back pockets but she didn’t seem to care as Daniel offered her his arm.

“M’lady.” He winked over his shoulder at Ethan as they led the way toward the rides.

Ethan fell into step beside Sam. “Looks like those two are hitting it off.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed as she studied the couple in front of them. Daniel ducked his head low and Kate laughed at his murmured comment. “Seems that way.”

“Do I detect a bit of regret in those words?”

“I don’t know about regret, but I don’t see anything positive forming out of a friendship with those two.”

“Why not?” Ethan slowed his pace to match Sam’s, ambling beside her as the sun set behind the Ferris wheel in the near distance, scattering bits of pink and purple and orange across the sky.
He
knew why Daniel shouldn’t get close to Kate, or any other self-respecting woman, but Sam couldn’t know that about him this soon.

“They’re too different.” Sam gestured toward the couple now several steps ahead. “City boy, country girl. What does Daniel know about horses and ranch life? And what does Kate know about designer labels or foreign cities? They have nothing in common.”

“Sort of like us.” The blow of Sam’s words hit a soft spot in Ethan’s heart that had long been forming. He’d hoped it would have calloused by now, but no such luck. The words pricked sharper than Cupid’s bow but without the mushy, pain-relieving side effects. He averted his gaze so Sam wouldn’t see the disappointment he knew welled in his eyes.

Sam stopped. “I didn’t mean it like—I just…” She blew out her breath and shoved her hands in her pockets. “Forget I said anything.” She began walking again, faster than before.

“It’s true, though, isn’t it?” Not wanting to continue the conversation but somehow unable to stop himself, Ethan hurried after her. “Just say it.”

“Say what, Ethan?” Sam wheeled in front of him, and he nearly ran into her. “Say that we’re from two different worlds and have nothing in common, either? Why does it matter?” Her gaze searched his, undefined emotion deepening the blue to cobalt.

Ethan looked over her shoulder at the Ferris wheel on the horizon. A dozen thoughts vied for release in his mouth, but he swallowed them as a new idea struck. “Take a ride with me.”

“What?” Sam’s eyebrows shot up with surprise.

“Take a ride with me.” He grabbed her hand, pulled her toward the ticket booth and handed the cashier a ten dollar bill. “Come on.” He pocketed the string of red squares and plowed through the throng of people.

“Where are we going?” Sam tugged at his grip, but Ethan held her hand tighter as he maneuvered a path through the thickening evening crowd. He couldn’t let go now, or the crowd would swallow her whole.

“Here.” Breathless, Ethan drew Sam to a stop at the line for the Ferris wheel. She tilted her head back, peering up at the brightly lit cars making their way around the giant circle.

“The Ferris wheel?” Her brow furrowed with doubt.

“It’s a classic.”

“What about the Gravy Train?”

“I get enough of the fast life in New York.” He paused until Sam’s gaze locked with his. “I’m ready to slow things down.”

Their car stopped two from the top of the wheel, and Sam didn’t know if it was the height or Ethan’s nearness that put her nerves on red alert. What had he meant by saying he
wanted to slow things down? Was he talking about life in general, or about her? She drew a deep breath, her mind racing almost as fast as the Gravy Train she could see across the park, a whirl of lights and music as the cars raced around a shiny red track. Apparently Kate and Daniel hadn’t missed them after Ethan’s mad dash to the ticket booth, as Sam’s cell phone hadn’t vibrated once in her pocket.

“It’s nice up here, isn’t it?” The wind brushed strands of dark hair out of Ethan’s eyes. He must have skipped the gel after the dunk tank, and Sam was surprised at his hair’s length. It seemed longer than a typical cut for a business professional, and she couldn’t imagine Ethan doing anything outside the book. But maybe there was more depth to him than she’d originally thought.

The idea struck Sam with a shameful dose of clarity. Hadn’t Ethan already proven that enough times with his hard work around the ranch? No wonder he’d been so offended when she questioned his capability on repairing fences. An apology rose in her throat and stuck on her lips. “Ethan, I—”

He turned to her, their faces only inches apart. Her stomach tingled and Sam froze. Ethan’s hand found hers and he ran his fingers lightly over her knuckles. “Yes?”

She tried to breathe, but couldn’t remember her name, much less what she’d been about to say. “I—” She swallowed. His gaze bore into hers, drawing her in as he leaned closer. Sam followed the magnetic pull, the lights of the Ferris wheel a romantic glow in her peripheral vision. “I—” Her hands shook, and she clenched her free one in her lap. Desperate to speak but scared of the words that might roll off her tongue.

Ethan’s cell rang, jangling Sam out of her thoughts and jarring her back to reality with a resounding crash. She jerked
away from Ethan, causing their little car to sway, and he grabbed for his phone. “Hello?”

Daniel’s voice rose through the phone above the crowd and the music. He shouted something she couldn’t decipher as Sam’s stomach churned. And this time there was no food to blame.

“We’re at the Ferris wheel. We’ll meet you by the corn dog stand in about fifteen minutes.” Ethan dropped his cell into his shirt pocket, and released a long breath. “Sorry about that.”

Sam nodded and forced a smile, but her thoughts were galloping much further ahead. She’d almost kissed Ethan. What was she thinking? It’d be like pairing a goat with a Thoroughbred—impossible. They were on completely different levels of life in status, mindset, goals. Some things just weren’t meant to be—even if under the glow of the stars it seemed as if, for a moment, they could.

Sam turned to look out her side of the car as the wheel gently lowered them back to earth.