“Never mind him.” The low voice came from behind her. “What did you bring me?”
“Oh!” She wheeled around to face him, startled, and before she could catch her breath, he had taken her swiftly in his arms, almost crushing the air out of her lungs as he held her and kissed her quickly, and then let her go.
“Good morning, Palomino.” He spoke in a whisper and she blushed.
“Hello… I missed you.”
“I missed you too. Do you want to go to the cabin this morning?” Anyone even a few feet from them couldn't have heard him speaking, and Samantha nodded quickly with a bright light of anticipation in her eyes.
“I'd like that.”
“I'll meet you at the south fence, in the clearing. Do you know where that is?” He looked suddenly worried as he watched her as though he were afraid she might get lost, but she only laughed.
“Are you kidding? Where do you think I've been all week long while you've been working?”
“I don't know, babe.” He grinned at her. “Same place I've been, I suspect. Halfway out of your head.”
“You're not far wrong.” And then, as he made to go, she grabbed at his sleeve and whispered, “I love you.”
He nodded, brushed her lips with his own, and whispered in answer, “I love you too. See you at ten.” And then he was gone, his heels clicking loudly on the barn floor, and a moment later as he turned a bend there was a shouted greeting to two of the men coming to tend their horses. A moment earlier and they would have seen him kissing Samantha. Instead all they saw now was Sam diligently feeding Caroline's best horse.
14
They met at five minutes before ten in the south clearing, their horses fresh, the sky blue, their eyes bright with desire. It was a little crazy, this brand-new passion, she couldn't explain it but deep in her gut, she knew that she had to be with him, and she was ready to make a commitment to him for the rest of her life. She tried to explain it to him later that morning, as they lay in the big comfortable brass bed in the pale blue bedroom, their bodies tired, their hearts light, and his arm encircling her as she nestled at his side.
“I don't know, Tate, it's as if… as if I've always been waiting for you. As if suddenly I know what I was born for…”
“You mean screwing?” He grinned at her and rumpled the exquisite hair.
“Don't call it that.” She looked hurt.
“I'm sorry.” He kissed her softly and touched her face. “Making love. That's what it is, you know, no matter what I call it.”
“I know it is.” She moved closer to him with a happy smile and closed her eyes. “It must be wrong to be this happy. It's certainly indecent.” Her eyelids fluttered and he kissed the tip of her nose.
“Is it? Why?” He looked just as happy as she as he lay there. “Why don't we have a right to feel like this?”
“I'm not sure. But I hope we do and for a very long time.” Their thoughts went in unison to Bill and Caroline, who had lain in the same bed before them and were still together after such a long time.
“It's crazy, Tate, it's all so new between us and it just doesn't feel like it, does it?”
“No, but if you don't stop talking about it, I'm going to start treating you like you've been around for the last twenty years.”
“And then what?”
“I'll ignore you.”
“Just try it.” She ran a slender finger up the inside of his thigh and stopped interestingly where his legs joined.
“And just what is that all about, Miss Samantha?”
“Hang around and I'll show you.” She teased in a sultry voice and he put a hand between her thighs. They were the oddest combination of teasing and serious, and through the entire morning there was always the feeling that they had been there before and been part of each other's lives for a very long time. It was almost impossible to realize that the relationship was a brand-new one, and Tate seemed to feel as comfortable as she did as they wandered naked through the tiny house.
“Did you see the photo albums, babe?” he called out to her as she made sandwiches in the cheerful little kitchen from the provisions he'd brought. He sat on the couch, with a blanket over his naked shoulders, his feet extended toward the bright fire. The fireplace hadn't been cleaned since the last person had used it, so they felt certain that no one would discover that they'd been there from whatever ashes they eventually left in the grate.
“Yeah, they're great, aren't they?” There were photographs of Bill and Caroline, and other people on the ranch, dating all the way back to the early fifties, and the two new lovers chuckled fondly as they glanced through the pages, watching people cavort years ago in front of outdated cars, in funny bathing suits and odd hats. There were a few pictures of rodeos, and there were even some photographs of the ranch before some of the newer buildings had been built. “Gee, it used to be a lot smaller.”
He smiled in answer. “One day it should be a lot bigger than this. This could be the finest ranch in the state, maybe one of the best in the country, but Bill King is getting old, he isn't as anxious to see it grow. Leastways not anymore.”
“What about you? Is that what you want, Tate? To run this ranch someday?” He nodded slowly, being honest with her. He had a great deal of ambition, all of it centered around this ranch.
“Yeah. I'd like to make it something very special one day, if Miss Caro will let me. I'm not sure she will, while old Bill is around.”
Samantha spoke softly, almost reverently. “I hope he always will be, Tate, for her sake.”
He nodded slowly. “So do I. But one day, one day… there are some things I'd like to change on this ranch.” Closing the album carefully, he began to tell her. An hour later he glanced at the electric clock in the kitchen and stopped. “Listen to me, Sam, I could go on like this for hours.” He smiled sheepishly but it was obvious that she had enjoyed it.
“I like hearing about it.” And then after a minute, “Why don't you start your own ranch?”
But he laughed and shook his head. “With what, little Palomino? Good wishes and old beer cans? Do you have any idea what it would cost to start a decent ranch? A fortune. Not on my pay, babe. No, all I want is to be one hell of a foreman, not an assistant foreman, but the real thing. The man in power. Hell, most of the ranchers don't know their ass from a hole in the ground. The foreman is the one who keeps the place running.”
“You do that here.” She eyed him proudly and he gently touched her hair and then cupped a hand under her chin.
“I try, little Palomino. I try when I'm not playing hookie with you. You could make me almost sorry I'm working. All I wanted to do yesterday was come here with you, and make love to you and sit by the fire and feel good.”
Samantha stared into the fire with dreams in her eyes. “So did I.” And then after a moment she turned her eyes back to him. “What are we going to do, Tate?”
“About what?” He was teasing her. He knew what she meant.
“Don't be cute. You know what I mean.” And then she giggled. “The other night I had this vision of you and Bill King tiptoeing into the house and bumping into each other in the dark.” They both laughed at the image and he pulled her close, with a pensive look in his eyes. He had already mulled over the possibilities, and all of them were complicated, none of them was ideal.
“I don't know, Sam, it would be a lot easier if it were summer. We could come here every night after work and ride back in the moonlight under the stars. But it's dark as hell now when we finish, and I'd be afraid one of the horses might stumble and get hurt.”
“We could carry lanterns.”
“Sure.” He grinned at her. “Or hire a helicopter, why not?”
“Oh, shut up. Well… what are we going to do? Do you want to try sneaking into Aunt Caro's?”
He shook his head slowly. “No. They'd hear us, just like you told me you hear him coming in every night. And
