Chase the Clouds Page 7

  He grinned ruefully. “A little friendly persuasion changed your mind, though.”

  “If that’s your idea of friendly persuasion, I’d hate to meet you as an adversary in one of your other business ventures.”

  Sam nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right about that. Although, I’m not unfair, I do enjoy the challenge. Those corporate businesses are a bore compared to running a ranch. Well, would you like to drive down to Placerville tomorrow morning with me? Martha wants me to pick up some dry goods for her. Maybe you can help me with that. I’m always terrible at getting the right brand or the best bargain.”

  Dany smiled. “A man with your prestige and finances and you’re worried Martha will swat you with that wooden spoon,” she teased gently.

  “Not really, Dany. I learned a long time ago that money is not the key to personal happiness. I could be dirt-farmer poor and still enjoy life.”

  “Until the last six years, I was dirt-farmer poor,” she commented.

  His disturbing gray gaze met her eyes. “And were you happy?”

  Dany’s heart began to beat more strongly. She licked her lips. “Yes. Yes, I was very happy. Of course, when my hunters began making strong showings on the major Grand Prix circuit, that was great, too.”

  “And then what happened?” he inquired huskily. “When I look in your blue eyes I see a terrible anguish, Dany. You aren’t happy now. What will it take to erase that pain?”

  Her throat constricted with tears, and she tore her gaze from him. His concern was evident by the compassionate glint in his eyes. How much harder this was to handle than Jean’s acid retorts. Sam’s way did not allow her to flippantly disregard his curiosity. Compressing her lips, she forced the words out, hoping to hide the strain of feeling behind them. “As I said before, the divorce is still too fresh.”

  Sam shook his head and reached out, gently guiding her chin toward him until their eyes met. “No, lady. There’s more than that. You’re so incredibly transparent. I watch the color of your eyes change. I see a shadow in there. It goes deeper than a divorce, Dany. There’s a hurt…” He groped to find the correct words.

  His fingers were like a branding iron to her flesh, and she sought to escape his touch. Dany fled off the couch, setting the snifter down more loudly than she intended on the table. Walking to the fireplace, she stopped, defensively folding her arms against her breasts. Why was he able to get beyond her walls that were meant to keep people out of her private anguish? An impulsive urge to confide in him burgeoned, but she checked the desire out of long habit. She’d been injured once by her innate honesty in a relationship. She had always been truthful with Jean, and where did it get her? Nowhere, a bitter voice shrilled warningly inside her head. The trust that she used to have had been utterly destroyed, and it made it that much harder to trust again.

  “Just because you’ve forced me to honor a contract signed by my ex-husband doesn’t give you the right to question me personally,” she flung back heatedly.

  Sam rose, his eyes narrowing. “No, it doesn’t,” he agreed. He hooked his thumbs in his belt, standing there like a bulwark of undeniable strength. “Why won’t you allow anyone close to you, Dany? Are you afraid to give even a small piece of yourself to another human being? Is the cost that great to you?”

  Her azure eyes widened. “Stop it!” she cried harshly. “You have no right—”

  In one fluid, unbroken motion, Sam was there at her side. She tried to back away, but his hands upon her shoulders gently imprisoned her. A small cry broke from her lips as she tried to shake off his hold. His fingers tightened until she stood trembling within his grasp. His face was inches away from her own, and she felt the moistness of his breath against her hair and cheek.

  “I want the right to know you, Dany,” he whispered huskily. “Look at me! Why are you so afraid to meet someone’s eyes?” His fingers captured her chin, forcing her to look up into his pewter gray gaze.

  Her heart pounded without respite in her chest, and she gasped for breath. He was too close! She had to escape the virile masculinity that threatened to overwhelm her senses. The color of his eyes darkened to slate, and he released her chin, his fingers feather light, caressing the length of her clean jaw and slender throat.

  “There,” he whispered, “that’s better. My wild, injured filly. So afraid of a man’s hands. You flinch every time I touch you. I won’t hurt you, Dany. I only want to make you happy,” he murmured thickly.

  Her lips parted as his mouth descended gently upon her own. He tasted, touched and outlined her lips with quivering tenderness, asking entrance, but not demanding it. A soft moan vibrated within her throat, and she tried to pull away, deluged by a tidal wave of desire. Sam’s hand pressed insistently against her back, pulling her firmly against his hard body. Her heart cried for the protection and gentleness he offered. His tongue traced her lips once again, teasing, enticing. Her senses reeled, plunging headlong down an endless corridor. The pressure of his mouth increased and instinctively she melted against him, a supple willow, within his masterful embrace. A hundred careening sensations exploded within her as his tongue entwined with hers. She was aware of the roughness of his skin against her cheek, the heady masculine smell, the kneading, gentling stroke of his fingers against the length of her spine. Slowly, ever so slowly, he drew away from her wet, throbbing lips. His eyes were a fiery silver-gray, a hungry shadow within them that momentarily frightened her. Gradually, he helped her regain her balance, holding her as if she were a fragile crystal ornament within his arms.

  Dany could not tear her gaze from his rugged face. Her nostrils flared as she experienced an overwhelming sensation of attraction to him. She was trembling outwardly, and she could feel him tightly controlling his own quivering need for her. Tears welled up into her eyes, quickly streaking her flushed cheeks. Sam frowned, taking his fingers and caressing her skin.

  “Don’t…” she protested weakly, “don’t Sam. I—I can’t take this,” she croaked. “Not yet…”

  His eyes grew troubled and he frowned, carefully cradling her chin. “Honey, I would never do anything to hurt you. I wanted to show you that sharing something didn’t mean it had to be painful.”

  Dany took a long, unsteady breath, feeling safe within his arms. She made an effort to disengage herself, but her legs wouldn’t move. She felt pleasantly immobilized by his strength and the aura of magnetism that swirled around him. “Sam,” she begged, her voice scratchy, “I don’t think I could take that type of pain again.” She touched her throat, swallowing hard against a forming lump.

  He caressed her hair, his fingers trailing through the silken tresses. “But don’t you see,” he coaxed thickly. “You must start to trust in something again. It’s healing, Dany.”

  She slowly looked up, her eyes wide and dazed with emotional exhaustion that the last few minutes of traumatic events had produced. “Don’t you see?” she cried with anguish in her voice. “I don’t know how to act. I’m confused. I—I thought I knew who I was…what I wanted. And it’s all changed now, Sam. I feel so hopelessly adrift…a cork in some endless ocean. If I don’t know myself, or trust my own perceptions of people around me yet, how can I reach out and trust another man?”

  His expression was still concerned, but his arms slipped free of her body and his voice sounded discouraged when he said, “How much of your soul did he strip from you, Dany? How could anyone do that much damage?”

  Her heart felt serrated by his blunt questions. She shut her eyes tightly. “I’m sorry I don’t meet your expectations. I can’t overcome this distrust the way you expect me to.”

  “Dany,” Sam began, speaking softly, “you are a woman with an incredible training record handling some of the mightiest and most powerful horseflesh in the U.S., and I guess that I’ve expected the same kind of toughness and resiliency in you emotionally. You are hurt far more deeply than I ever was from my marriage.” He gave a slight shrug of his broad shoulders. “If I ever meet that ex of yours, I’m l
iable to wring his damn neck for what he’s done to you, Dany.”

  She colored fiercely, her eyes widening at the growl in his voice. Throughout her life she had fought for every inch of ground that she had won and without help—except from her riding master. In Terrence she had found a friend, a mentor and someone she could lean on when she got tired. Sam’s face held a tenderness that she had never seen before as he watched her through his half-closed eyes. A shiver of long-forgotten care enveloped her. In Sam she saw the beginning of a friendship…of trust and perhaps most importantly, honesty.

  “Oh, Sam…” she whispered painfully. “I’m sorry, too…I just feel so torn inside and unsure of myself. You’re strong and you seem to know exactly who you are and where you’re going.” She spread her hands out before her in a gesture of futility. “I don’t know where I am.”

  He caught her right hand, capturing it firmly within his grasp. “You’re here with me, honey. That’s all that matters and all that counts,” he urged.

  Tears slid down her cheeks and she sniffed. “I know…and I’m glad. Really, I am. It’s just that I’m—scared.” Somehow his gesture of gentleness had allowed her the courage to confront her worst fear. She felt Sam’s fingers tighten momentarily on her hand.

  “Scared of what?” he coaxed softly. “I can see a shadow in your eyes, haunting you when you’re alone. It can’t be so bad as all that.”

  She reclaimed her hand, trying to dry her cheeks of the tears, and gave a helpless laugh. “Yes, it is. At least it is to me.”

  “Tell me,” he said, setting down the snifter on the coffee table.

  The silence grew in the study until there was only the crackling and popping of the fire. Dany took in a breath and exhaled slowly. “It’s about riding in shows, Sam,” she forced out, her voice strained. “I can’t ride for you. I can train, yes…but, please, don’t ask me to ride Altair in a show.” Her voice trembled and she stole a glance up at him. “Four years ago, right after I met Jean, I rode a thoroughbred called Crusader’s Prince.” She watched his face change when she mentioned the jumper’s name and froze.

  “Don’t tell me—” he began.

  Dany chewed on her lower lip. “Yes, I was the one.” She clasped her hands in a nervous gesture in her lap. “Now do you see why I’m afraid to ride, Sam? I killed a horse, a very valuable, expensive horse, because of my own inexperience. Crusader was the top money-making jumper in the U.S., and I took him over a wall too fast. He had to be shot because of a broken leg. I miscounted the strides between jumps.” She held back a sob, misery in her voice. “Oh, Sam, I can’t ride Altair…it wouldn’t be fair to you or to him. He’s too magnificent to be killed. Don’t you see?” she begged, her voice scratchy with tears.

  Sam leaned forward, pulling her hands apart and holding them. “I do remember Crusader having to be destroyed, Dany. But if my memory serves me correctly the course had received record amounts of rain the night before and the ground was a muddy hell. And you weren’t the only one who had problems. If I recall, one other animal had to be destroyed and two riders went to the hospital.”

  She was reliving the horror of the entire sequence in her mind as she had done thousands of times before. “Jean warned me not to ride the horse. He said I didn’t have the experience,” she said softly. “He was right, you know. I had no business doing it.”

  Sam snorted. “I’ll just bet your ex never let you forget it, too.”

  “I just don’t have what it takes. I don’t have that fine edge of timing in critical jumps.”

  “The hell you don’t. Look, Dany, let’s treat this problem as if we were training a young horse.”

  “What?”

  “What is the basis of training a horse to jump?”

  She gave him a perplexed look. “Patience and schooling a horse over low, tightly spaced jumps at first and then working up gradually in height to larger jumps. Why?”

  “If we are going to get you over your fear of riding Altair at a show, don’t you think we ought to do the same thing for you? We could design some courses and gradually make them higher and more intricate until you feel confident on Altair. By that time, Santa Barbara will be around the corner and you’ll both be ready to take that show by storm. What do you think about the plan?”

  The roughness of his hand upon her fingers gave her a comfort she had never experienced before. Her heart ached with fear and unsureness. “Sam, I just couldn’t live with myself if I destroyed another horse because of my—”

  “Dammit, you listen to me! Crusader would have died out there with another seasoned jumper because of lousy footing. The judges should have canceled the run and rescheduled it for another day, but they didn’t. If you can train jumpers to become aware of their strides and realize their takeoff point to scale a jump, you can ride in any show successfully.” His voice gathered conviction. “Honey, Altair is one of the most surefooted horses you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting. That’s where his questionable background as a cow horse comes in. He’s used to scrambling up and down rocky ravines chasing wild cows or negotiating steep hills and jumping over logs hidden by underbrush. In the years I’ve owned him, he’s never fallen once.” His voice quivered with encouragement. “Honey, you can do it. In a way, both you and Altair are scarred by the past. But your weaknesses aren’t in the same area. Together, you’re complementary and strong. The stallion trusts you and that’s nine-tenths of the battle right there. You know a horse will go the distance if he trusts you.”

  She could only stare, mesmerized by his confidence in her abilities. “Both of you trust me and I don’t even trust myself,” she admitted. “I can’t promise you anything, Sam. This fear is so big in me that I break out in a sweat every time I think about it. That’s why I fought so hard to stay in Virginia. I didn’t want out of the contract because of Altair’s problems. I just didn’t have the courage to ride him because of the past.”

  “That was four years ago, Dany, and you’ve accumulated that much more experience under your belt.” He reluctantly released her hand. “Get to bed, you’re looking tired,” he urged softly. “We’ll get you suited up in boots and jeans tomorrow and then we’ll set out for the pastures in a couple days.”

  Seven

  The morning of the ride was crisp, cold and clear. The sun was still behind the craggy crown of the mountains as they moved their mounts down the meadow toward the milling herd in the far distance. Dany sat happily in the western saddle, snug in the beautiful sheepskin coat Sam had given her that morning. She glanced down at the new cowhide chaps that would protect her legs from bushes and brambles on the long ride, and just shook her head. She felt indescribably happy as she glanced around at the ten hands who rode in front of her. It was as if she had stepped into a time machine and had been transported magically back to the days of the Chisholm Trail. Her gaze lingered on the man heading up the group: Sam Reese. He was a tall and broad-shouldered man sitting with a born ease in the saddle. Altair, his copper coat shining like red fire, sidled and pranced beneath him. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched them move with a primal grace and beauty she had never imagined. Dany wanted to join him but she checked the childish desire. She elected to remain with Juan, instead.

  Juan, the cook for the drive, sat happily ensconced on the seat of the chuck wagon. He clucked in Spanish to his team of bays and then winked over at Dany. “Your first drive, señora?” he shouted above all the noise.

  Dany smiled. “The first! It’s so exciting.”

  “Sí, it is. But also, hard work. The boss going to make you work like the rest of his hands?”

  “I don’t know. I told him I wanted to help and not just watch.”

  Juan grinned, showing the gap between his front teeth. His dark brown eyes danced with merriment. “You ride one of the best cutting horses on the ranch, señora, do you know that?”

  Dany looked down at Bomarc in surprise. “No. You mean if a cow bolts from the herd, he’ll go after it?”

&nb
sp; “Sí, sí. Aye! He’s a cutting devil. Only one other horse can match him and that’s Altair.” Juan waved his finger at Dany in good humor. “You must be a very good rider or the boss would never let you ride the gray. Sí, I think he wants you to work.”

  Dany laughed fully, feeling so many weights and shadows from the past slipping off her shoulders. It must be the beauty of the morning, the excitement-charged air and her sense of adventure that was doing it. “Looks like I have to earn my keep, doesn’t it?”

  Juan grinned and nodded his head emphatically. “Sí, sí. The gray, he likes to work drag,” he explained. “It will be up to you and these other hands to establish a good speed for the herd. If a cow breaks, you must hang on and point him. He’ll know what to do.”

  They arrived at the main holding pen almost an hour later, and Dany sensed Bomarc’s anticipation, the gelding’s ears twitching as the plaintive mooing of the cows, calves and steers heightened. The main gates were dragged open, and the first few Herefords drifted though to the freedom of the lush green pastures carpeted with white patches of snow. Horses snorted and pawed. Cowboys remained slouched in the saddles, the hats drawn down across their eyes. At one point, Sam swung by to check on her. She marveled at the glint in his gray eyes that gave away his excitement. He smiled, touching the brim of his hat as he cantered Altair past where she stood. Dany smiled shyly, basking in the light of his obvious care. Two Border Collies barked and snapped at the heels of several anxious cows, keeping them in line. Mud and slush were flung in all directions as a few Herefords broke from the main group. Dany watched in admiration as the chunky quarter horses spurted out after their rebellious charges, quickly bringing them back into line.

  Finally, over two thousand head of cattle were loose and ambling across the floor of the valley under the careful guidance of the ranch hands. Bomarc had broken out in a light sweat, columns of steam flowing out of his flared nostrils as he airily pranced along. Dany leaned down, crooning softly to the horse, understanding his excitement because it was affecting her just as much. As the herd stretched out over half a mile, Dany lost sight of Sam. He remained near the head of the herd with several other wranglers. Juan brought up the rear with the chuck wagon, its wheels sinking deeply into the freshly plowed mud that had been churned up by the cattle. She was grateful for the sheepskin coat, because, even though the sun had risen above the peaks, the morning was still chilly.