A Rancher's Pride

chapter Nine





For some reason, it took all Sam’s willpower to cross the room to the women on the other side. He felt as though he was trying to forge a raging river. Just which of the four females over there would throw him a rope?

All of them, it looked like—although Kayla would probably then hog-tie him with it and drop him in deep water.

Why not? He was already in way over his head with this whole situation. He wanted her gone.

A quick glance at Becky almost made him trip over his own boots. Suddenly, he felt the urge to pick her up off that stool and give her a great big hug. But he held back, afraid of frightening her. He was a stranger she’d met only a couple of days ago.

Thanks to his ex.

Forcing the bitter thought away, he swept the hand holding his Stetson wide in greeting and gave them all a small bow. “Morning, ladies.”

“Morning,” Ellamae said with a grin.

Dori frowned at him, her eyes nearly squinted shut. “Sam, you’re never here in the mornings. Is your mama all right? Is there something wrong on your ranch?”

There were lots of things wrong at his ranch. Things he didn’t want to think about right now. But the biggest problem was right here at the Double S. And he was looking right at her.

Again, he needed some willpower to get him through. When he could finally tear his gaze from Kayla’s sparkling blue eyes, he smiled at Dori.

“No, Mom’s okay. Everything’s fine. Just here for some lunch. And then after, I reckon I should show Kayla and Becky some of the sights around town.”

Dori clapped her hands. “What a good idea, Sam.”

Ellamae snickered.

He would shoot her a look, but she’d probably give him a shot in the arm in return. Getting what he deserved for rude behavior was more than he wanted to handle in front of his daughter.

Not to mention, in front of Kayla.

She sat watching him still, and her unblinking focus had started to do something strange to him. Had made him feel even more unsteady, as if the undertow of that deep water tugged at him. Or as if that rope he’d wondered about had just been given a mighty yank. Whatever the cause, he felt…funny.

And not in a good way.

To cover his confusion, he reached out and plopped the Stetson on Becky’s head.

She gave her little trilling giggle, same as she’d done last night when he’d stood outside her bedroom. Again, it rocked him. His breath caught in his chest. This time, he’d made her laugh.

Judging by the stunned look on Kayla’s face, Becky’s reaction had hit her hard, too. He’d have thought she’d be used to it.

The reminder that she had seen everything of his daughter’s life, while he’d seen nothing, left him struggling not to glare at her in front of the other two women.

Silently, he vowed to get this situation resolved right quick.

That barbecue Judge Baylor had harped on might do the job. Kayla could make sure Becky behaved, while he spent his time making a good impression on Judge Baylor. Letting the man see that he had the means to take care of his child. That Becky needed to stay with her daddy.

Meanwhile, today, he would show his little girl off to all the fine citizens of Flagman’s Folly. If Ellamae had spoken the truth, then he’d see to it every one of the judge’s spies got back to the man with a good report.

Things were looking up.

He didn’t have to force himself to grin at Kayla. “Well, how about it?” he asked. “Why don’t we have some lunch and then get our tour started?”

The expression on her face could have dropped a coyote in its tracks from across a half acre.



KAYLA COULD BARELY RECALL what she had ordered from the menu at the Double S. She’d eaten her lunch while in a near daze and, even as she followed Sam and Becky from the café, she had trouble coming back to the present.

She couldn’t seem to forget the look on Sam’s face when he’d put his cowboy hat on Becky’s head and heard her laugh.

The wistfulness in his eyes had started a hollow ache in her chest, and the sensation hadn’t gone away yet. She had a bad feeling it was somehow connected to her heart breaking.

She needed to do something to save herself. And Becky.

“Let’s leave the car and the pickup here,” he said as they stood outside the café. “We’ll do the length of Signal Street, but I have to say, it won’t take very long to walk it.”

“Oh?” she asked, forcing a cool tone. “Even so, I’m surprised you’re taking the time away from your ranch to give us a tour. Ronnie once told me you were never free to do anything with her.”

He looked taken aback by her response. What he should have realized was, she had just pointed out something she could use against him with the judge. A father who would never have time for his daughter. Guilt warred with elation over this, and to her annoyance, the decision came to a close call. Elation finally won.

Becky skipped down the street ahead of them. Kayla and Sam fell into step behind her. She had thought he would ignore her previous statement, but to her surprise, he replied.

“Kind of hard to go on tours when I normally leave the house early and get back late.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s true.” Point number two, no matter what Dori and Ellamae thought.

At this rate, she’d have enough to go to the judge in no time.

Before he could have a chance to figure that out, she asked, “Just how did Flagman’s Folly get its name?”

He looked at her for a long while, as if wary of the change of subject. Or as if, for some reason, he felt reluctant to tell her.

At last, he said, “Back a century or so ago, there wasn’t a town here, just a small crossroad station in the middle of nowhere. Trains pulled in for refueling and picking up passengers. The flagman stationed here had the job of signaling to make sure two trains didn’t try to come in at the same time.”

“And something happened?”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, something happened. The flagman was so busy making his moves on a waiting passenger, he messed up. And the trains collided.”

Kayla gasped. “Were there many hurt?”

“No one, fortunately. The first train was slowed to a crawl getting ready to pick up passengers, and the second was a freighter with only the crew aboard.”

“The flagman got off lucky.”

“Real lucky.”

At the amusement in his tone, she looked at him.

“As it turned out,” he explained, “the man up and married the lady he’d been sweet-talking.”

She shook her head in disgust. “Well, that was a lot more than he deserved.”

“You could be right. The woman came from money and he was just a down-and-out bum until he got the job with the railroad.” He tilted his head, and she could see his eyes twinkling beneath the brim of his hat, but he didn’t say anything else.

Her heart thumped. Not only were they having a normal, peaceful conversation, Sam was teasing her, almost flirting with her.

“All right,” she said after they had walked several yards down the street and he still said nothing. “I give up. What’s the punch line?”

He grinned. “Those were my great-grandparents. They wound up settling here and, after a few others came along to join them, the town was incorporated. They named it and the main street from their story. You might say I have a vested interest in the place.”

Or I might say you come from a long line of bums.

What would that do to their nice conversation?

The story of his family history made Kayla recall what Ellamae had said about Sam’s “teenager ways.” Something she would have to look into at a later date—and let Matt know. Maybe Sam had inherited the flagman’s incompetence as well as his genes.

And maybe, in that, she’d find point number three for the judge.

As Becky neared the next building, she slowed.

The day had gotten overly warm, with the humidity high and the temperature now at ninety-eight, according to a thermometer hanging in the sunny front window of Lou’s Barbershop. Good thing Kayla had remembered to ask Lianne to throw several pairs of shorts into the boxes of clothing she’d sent.

Through the plate-glass window, one of the barbers, a gray-haired man in an old-fashioned long white apron, saw Kayla looking at the thermostat. When he noticed Becky beside her, a smile touched his face. He waved at her, and she grinned and waved back. He came to the open front door of the shop.

“Well, hey, Sam. Looks like you got yourself some company.”

“Sure have.” Sam introduced Becky then, after a pause, Kayla.

Lou made an instant hit with Becky when he pulled an orange lollipop out of his apron pocket.

Kayla tried not to shake her head. More sweets. Catching her niece’s eye, she put her finger near her chin, then gestured with her upraised palms. “What do you say?”

In one swift movement, Becky raised her hand to her mouth and pulled it outward.

“Thank you,” Kayla voiced for her.

“Anytime.” Lou smiled.

They stopped next at the hardware and feed store.

Sam went about his job with a vengeance, she noticed, introducing Becky to everyone he knew—which seemed to be every single person they came across. As an afterthought, almost, he would remember to mention Kayla.

She decided to let that pass. For now.

At the small department store, she looked through the packages of curtains, searching for a set for the window in Becky’s guest room. Which reminded her…

“Sam,” she said.

He turned from his inspection of a display of window hardware.

“The headboard of the bed Becky’s using. I told you I’d never seen a design like that before. Did you make it?”

He hesitated, looking away, as if he didn’t want to answer the question. She couldn’t understand why.

Finally, he nodded. “Yeah.”

“You do beautiful work.”

“I try.” The words came out grudgingly.

She shrugged. If the man didn’t want compliments, she’d keep them to herself in future. She selected a set of curtains in a bright floral print that would pick up the colors in the throw rugs. “I’m ready to check out.”

When Becky came up beside them, Kayla held out the package to her.

Becky raised her brows and put her hand flat on her chest.

“Mine?” Kayla voiced for Sam. She nodded.

Becky took the package and ran toward the cashier at the front of the store.

“Hers?” Sam asked. “Becky’s room already has curtains.”

“I thought I’d buy something to make it a little more girlish in there.”

“You don’t need to be buying her anything.”

“I want to.”

“She’s my child. Any buying that gets done around here, I’ll do it.” He turned on his heel and strode off in Becky’s wake.

Kayla stood there a moment, puzzled by his strong reaction to her offer. She shrugged again. So, he didn’t like his daughter to have gifts, even when they were bought by someone else.

What would the judge think about that?



THEY WORKED THEIR WAY back down the other side of the street, through the post office and the volunteer firefighter station, in the same fashion. With Sam still barely remembering to introduce her along with Becky. By that time, Kayla’s previous irritation at his slights, compounded by the rejection of her gift, had worked itself up to a steady simmer. A good soak-down with one of the fire hoses might have done her some good.

Without that, the next snub from Sam would probably make her boil over. In a very polite way, of course.

They had reached Town Hall again, where Becky jogged up the path to the front steps, climbed them and jumped down. She proceeded to play this game as they stood watching.

“We’d better head back after this,” Sam said. “You were planning on stopping at Harley’s, right? I’ll go with you. It’s about time to start stocking up for that barbecue the judge invited himself to.”

The barbecue. “Yes, I need to pick up a few things at the store,” she said, her voice shaking.

She had hoped Sam would forget all about the judge’s comment. The idea of the barbecue worried her more than she wanted to admit. That day in court, she had seen for herself how the judge seemed to favor the local boy and had heard how strongly he felt about Becky being part of the history of Flagman’s Folly. Now that Sam had shared his story, she understood the judge’s words. She could almost go along with them. Becky did have strong ties to the town. And Flagman’s Folly appeared to be a nice place filled with friendly people.

Weighed against all this, could her efforts to rack up points against Sam be worthless?

On the day of the barbecue, would the judge take one look at Becky on that big, open ranch—the ranch she had the right to one day inherit—and decide that being brought up there would be in the child’s best interests?

Kayla clenched her hands at her sides. This defeatist mind-set wouldn’t help her, and she had to get rid of it now.

Dropping her attitude toward Sam was a different story.

Fighting to keep her voice steady, she continued, “I’m not sure about the shopping list I made. It was hard to figure out what to cook when I’ll never be sure what time you’ll be in for dinner.”

“Ranchers work long hours.” He frowned. “And I’m not used to having to report in with my schedule.”

“So Ronnie told me.”

He stopped and turned to her, looking suddenly as hot under the collar as she felt. “Do you have to bring that ‘Ronnie told me’ into every conversation?”

She shrugged. “Just making a point.”

“Yeah, a point to remind me you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really?” Suddenly, Sam’s series of backhanded insults and her own memory of what had happened in the courtroom of that very building where Becky now played made her even more annoyed. The knowledge of what could happen there in the next few weeks pushed her past the boiling stage. “I do know what I’m talking about, which happens to be a lot more than you think. Enough that I could march right in to your good-old-boy judge with it, and he would give me custody of Becky in a New York minute.”

“All right,” he said, his teeth clenched. He turned to face her and leaned down to meet her eyes. “You got something like that you’re sitting on, quit flapping your wings like a brood hen who’s just caught a javelina in the henhouse, and say whatever you’ve got to say.”

“Or what? You’ll hit me?” Kayla demanded. “Just like you did Ronnie? Well—”

He grabbed her arm. She jerked free in outrage, feeling a momentary regret that she had blurted the question.

Sam backed away a step. “I wasn’t going to hit you—”

“Oh, of course not. That’s what they all say. But then, I’m not your wife, so I’m not really worried that you would—”

“Stop it,” he said. “Just stop.”

His face had drained of all color. His mouth hung slack for a moment, as if she had hit him in the face—literally, instead of just with her words.

“That’s not what I intended to say,” he continued. “I meant, I wasn’t going to hit you. I just wanted you to stop saying those things. Look, I don’t even know where you got that idea. Well, yeah,” he contradicted himself immediately, his voice bitter. “Reckon I do. But how could you believe that?”

“Ronnie—” In spite of her eagerness to prove herself, she stopped and changed direction. “I’d seen proof, Sam. Cuts and bruises.”

“What? When?”

“When I came here to help Ronnie leave town.”

He stared at her, saying nothing, his eyes bleak and seeming unfocused. Without warning, he raised his arm and stepped toward her again.