Weston's Trouble (Saddles & Second Chances Book 3) Page 2

  He looked up, squinting. “What? Now? I have to get the check.”

  “I’ve taken care of it. In fact, no sense in wasting the alcohol.” She downed the rest of his drink, squinting as the hard alcohol slid down her esophagus, then sat the glass down and started for the door, not caring if he was coming or staying. At this point, she’d rather he stayed.

  No such luck. He caught up to her halfway through the parking lot.

  “Don’t be angry, babe. I’m doing this for the business. For us.”

  She didn’t even bother looking at him as she unlocked the doors to her Lexus and slid into the driver’s side. He climbed into the passenger seat, blinking pathetically. His pale skin looking paler.

  “You don’t want me to drive?” he asked. “I thought you liked when I did things for you.”

  “No.” She dragged the seatbelt around her waist and locked it into place, pushed the button to start the engine, and backed out of the space, squealing tires as she pushed down the pedal. “I’ll drop you at home. It’s early enough that you can work your fingers to the bone.”

  “I thought I’d spend the night at your place. It’s been a while since you and I…you know.” She didn’t have to look to see that he was wagging his brows as he did every time he mentioned intimacy. “We can open a bottle of wine, listen to music, let things flow.” He made a funny sound in the back of his throat.

  Grrr. She felt the threat of vomiting getting stronger.

  Sammie twisted her lips, wanting to tell him how she felt and that it would be a lot longer than he bargained for before she allowed him to touch her again. Instead, she needed to work to keep the peace. They owned a business together and things could get messy quick. “And have a threesome with your phone? No thanks. I have a date with Netflix.”

  “You’re being a…”

  She gave him a side glance. “I’m being a what precisely?”

  “Let’s start all over tonight. I’ll put my phone away. Let’s go to your place, open that bottle of expensive wine and talk. Sound good?” He gave her a glimpse of his toothpaste white smile. He could be charming when he wanted to be, but the moment had passed for them. Long passed.

  Sammie would have to break it to him that she wanted her freedom. She could use the excuse that she wanted a baby and that should do the trick. “I’d rather be alone tonight. I think it’s best we have a long discussion—.” A chime interrupted her. She looked over at Brady who was grappling for his phone. So much for putting his cell away.

  He frowned. “Not me.”

  Reaching for her phone from the front pocket of her purse, she read the screen. One missed call. Although she didn’t recognize the number, the area code was from Texas. She hadn’t heard from her daddy in months and her heart kicked up. Pulling the car over, she started to hit redial when the voicemail icon lit up.

  “What are we doing?” Brady whined.

  “I have a voice message.”

  “Oh, so it’s okay for you to ruin our romantic evening with a call, but not fine when I do it?” he huffed.

  Not bothering with a response, she listened to the message and the second she heard the husky Texas male voice, she almost jumped out of the seat.

  “Hi, Sammie. It’s Weston Jericho. I know this must be a surprise, but I thought you should know that something’s not right with Lucas. I think he’s sick. If it was my father, I’d want to know. Take care. Goodbye.”

  Her body heated and her core throbbed. Her heart beat so fast she thought it would knock right out of her chest. “Sorry, Brady, but our date is over.”

  “What? You can’t be serious.”

  “I’m very serious. I’ll be heading to Texas and I need to get home to make arrangements.” She dropped her phone into her purse.

  “Texas? We have a business to run here in Chicago, not to mention we have a meeting Monday morning.” His face twisted.

  “You’ll handle it, just as you’ve been dealing with business on your phone all evening without me.”

  “Listen, if you abandon me and our company, I don’t think we’ll recover from that situation.”

  She laughed so hard she thought she would pee her pants. When she finally managed to gain her composure, she shifted in the seat, eyeing him coldly. “Let’s not wait to find out if I return. Brady, we’re finished.”

  He looked at her curiously. “Wh-what? You can’t do this.”

  “Yes, I can, and I am.”

  “What is wrong with you, Sam? You want to head back to hog heaven and dig your fingers into horse muck? I don’t think I know you.”

  “That’s right. You don’t know me. Maybe if you’d paid as much attention to me as you have your cell phone over the last three years, you would have learned all there is to know about me so it wouldn’t be such a surprise that I’m pulling out my country side and kicking you the hell out of my car.”

  “What? You won’t kick me out.”

  “We can do this the uncomplicated way or the hard way. Totally up to you, but I’ll warn you, my daddy taught me two things. How to rope a cow and shoot a shotgun. I can’t say that my aim is as good as it once was, but I guarantee I can get as close as giving you a new haircut.”

  “How dare you! Who do you think you are, threatening me?”

  “There’s another mistake you made by not getting to know me. I don’t threaten. I make promises. I don’t want to argue, so get out!”

  He placed his hand on the door handle and looked back at her, a pleading looking on his expression. “Sam…please…let’s talk. I’m sorry. I’ll treat you better.”

  “We’re past that.” She reached over him, grabbed the door handle and pulled. “I’m sure you know how to use your phone to call for a cab.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Weston glanced down the sale catalog, hoping to find a champion bull stud and several prized heifers to breed. He wanted to walk away from the auction a happy business man.

  Hugh joined him on the bench and elbowed him. “Got your eye set on a heifer?”

  “A few.”

  “Looks like someone’s got their eye on you too.”

  Following Hugh’s gaze, Weston looked across the pen to the other set of benches where a pretty blonde was sitting, bending forward ever so slightly to show off a nice rack in a low-cut tank top. She smiled and waved. He did the same, but instead of enjoying the attention or allowing her to believe he was interested, he returned his attention to the catalog.

  “Shit, bro. What’s wrong with you? She’s gorgeous and you’re more interested in two-ton heifers. We can’t be brothers.” Hugh sighed.

  Weston gave a dry laugh. “You think she’s so good looking, why don’t you go over and talk to her?”

  “Because her eyes ain’t on me.” Hugh shrugged.

  “You said you had something to discuss with me. What’s up?” Weston wanted to talk about anything but being reminded that he hadn’t dated in over a year. He had priorities and dating wasn’t even in the top ten.

  “I’m going to run for sheriff. I’ve made my mind up.” He scraped his hand down his clean-shaven jaw.

  “I wouldn’t try to talk you out of it. Why the change? What about the rodeo?” He set the catalog aside.

  “I’ll still work the land and help with the security business, but I figure it’s time to hang up my chaps, do something else before I break my neck. The sheriff is leaving and I figure this is my way of helping the community.”

  “You have my support. Have you told the rest of us?” Weston raised a brow.

  “I thought I’d tell you first. Get an idea if you think I even have a chance.” He leaned onto his elbows.

  “Easily.” Weston patted his back.

  The announcer came over the intercom to announce the start of the auction as the chute opened. The first bid trotted out to the center of the pen, realizing she was the center of attention by the crowd. Although the cow was a beauty, she wasn’t the heifer Weston had been waiting on. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes
later when the purest of bloodline came through the chute, prancing her stuff.

  The bidding started at four thousand.

  Weston lifted his paddle. He won her easily.

  And then they brought out a bull. With rodeo experience under his belt, he knew a damn good bull when he saw one.

  Several paddles came up, including Marshall Reed’s. Weston’s stomach turned. After the incident with Harley Tate, Weston had to work hard to keep from punching the egotistical, obnoxious Reed square in the jaw. The Jericho boys had distanced themselves from the former client after realizing he was nothing but a snake in the grass. Well, Weston was sick of the likes of the almost-criminal thinking he owned the town and the people in it.

  There was no love lost between the two men. A victory grin crossed Reed’s chubby face as he met Weston’s gaze across the suffocating space. He wasn’t about to lose anything, not even a prized bull, to the other man.

  The bidding was at five thousand.

  Both men raised their paddles.

  And then the auctioneer called six thousand.

  Weston raised his paddle. The other bidders backed off.

  “Do you know what you’re doing, bro?” Hugh scoffed.

  “Keeping that sum’bitch from walking away with my bull. That’s what,” Weston ground out between his gritted teeth.

  Reed lifted his paddle, his smug smile growing. Although he was the richest man in town and probably had an endless bank account, Weston came to win today and over his dead body would he walk away without that bull on his trailer.

  “Seven? Seven thousand anyone?” The auctioneer cried. The temperature seemed to rise.

  Weston tipped his hat and the auctioneer swiped his sleeve over his sweaty brow. He then looked at Reed who had lost some of his grimy confidence.

  “Going once. Twice. Sold to the cowboy in the black Stetson.” The auctioneer slammed the gavel down hard.

  “For seven thousand he better knock up every heifer on the ranch,” Hugh laughed. “and the pigs, the chickens…”

  “I would have paid seven grand just to see the smirk wiped off that asshole’s face,” Weston growled.

  “Makes you almost wonder why he let you win. Deep pockets like him have no respect for the earned dollar.”

  “I’m not going to spend too much time pondering what he’s thinking.”

  Spending most of his budget on the bull, Weston bid on one other heifer and called it a day. He settled his account and made his way to his truck to load the stock into the back of his trailer.

  “Big spender, huh, Jericho?”

  Weston looked over his shoulder to find Reed and his sidekick, a bodyguard who looked like a cowboy wannabe, strolling across the dirt lot. “Just looking to expand my livestock. That’s all.” He pulled the door open so hard the hinges creaked and groaned.

  “I hear you bought another champion bull stud recently.” Reed snorted. “I’d say that’s more than fiddling with livestock, son. If you’re looking to breed the best of the best, I’d be willing to line your pockets to get my hands on a son from the stud you just bought.”

  Hugh chuckled and kicked up a cloud of dirt, but Weston kept a straight face, staring at Reed like he’d grown horns. “I’m not looking to do any business with you, Reed.”

  One corner of the man’s thin lips lifted as if he appreciated a challenge. “Come on, Wes. You’re not still pickled over the incident with Penn and Harley, are you? What I hear, they’re married now? Good for the cute couple. Don’t let bygones keep you from making a solid business deal, my friend. I’ll make you a happy man. I’ll double what you dropped tonight on that stud.”

  Weston turned his back, making it clear that he still wasn’t interested. Reed knew exactly why there was a rift between him and the Jericho boys. If a man laid a hand on a woman in anger, then he wasn’t a man, and that’s a line Reed had crossed with Harley. She was family now and no one got away with hurting one of their own.

  *****

  Sammie couldn’t believe her luck.

  Twenty minutes ago, she’d passed the county line, and only three miles from Tanner Ranch, she was stuck. Slipping off her sunglasses, she looked down the isolated gravel road and sighed. Her cell had no service and she hadn’t passed another car in so long she couldn’t remember. It didn’t look like anyone was out for a Sunday drive like most small townspeople were rumored to do. Did she have any other choice but to walk and get some help? Nope, yet, with the afternoon Texas sun beating down on her she’d rather wrestle a pig. Living in Chicago she’d forgotten how hot and humid this area of the country could get.

  At least she’d been smart enough to dress accordingly. Her tank top and cut off shorts kept her cooler than the jeans and sweatshirt she’d had on when she’d left home on the plane that morning. First thing she’d done after she landed was stop in the terminal restroom and change before visiting the rental car office. They’d screwed up her reservation and she ended up with a leftover two-door that had a knock in the engine when she drove away from the airport lot. She’d call and give them a piece of her mind, that was, when she had service again.

  Looking up and down the road, she hoped against all hope that she’d see a dust cloud in the distance, but after five long, miserable minutes, she still didn’t see anything but empty road and a snake that slithered along the edge of the ditch on the other side. Beyond this point on the road, there were only a handful of homes, two of which included her father’s ranch and Second Chances that the Jericho cowboys owned.

  Her heart kicked up for the hundredth time since she’d received the call from Weston. Lucas was sick. She hadn’t seen her father in nine years and each ticket she’d sent him in the mail had been returned. Remembering the argument that they had on her last night in Colton made goosebumps scatter her skin. They had always butted heads, especially after her mother died, but words were flung that night that had switched something off inside her. She loved her daddy, but he’d broken her heart.

  Even now, remembering how terrible things had gotten sent salt pouring into the old wounds.

  And thoughts of Weston lingered like a thousand-watt bulb.

  Five years older than her, she’d spent most of her childhood looking up to Wes, and trying to get his attention. It wasn’t until after she’d come back from college that he’d talked to her at the county fair, but she’d been on a date that evening with his best friend, Logan. She’d liked him enough, but when Wes smiled her way, she melted. For years, she’d waited for the cowboy to stop thinking of her as a girl and start seeing her as a woman. Finally, her wish had come true. Things had heated up between them and that summer they’d spent a lot of time in the back of his old blue truck with the broken door and squeaky shocks. Young and caught up in lust, neither of them had placed protection at the top of their priority list. Many times, they had more sex than he had condoms. When he said that he loved her and they started talking ‘marriage’ and ‘family’, she almost jumped out of her boots, ready to run down the aisle.

  Then one night changed her life and her dreams.

  Shivers raced through her as she remembered how cold and dark the barn had been that late night on Tanner Ranch. She’d spent many nights sleeping in the barn, against her daddy’s rules, especially when a horse was sick or about to foal. That night, she had been clueless to the danger that lurked in the shadows.

  Sometimes she wondered what life would have been like if she stayed in Colton and faced the music—stood up to the devil. Would she have a brood of kids? A husband? A career in horse breeding as she’d planned?

  She couldn’t allow herself to ponder all the what ifs. Her life was good and she had everything she planned…owning her own business to traveling to exotic locations when the desire arose. But she lacked in something. When she saw her friend holding her newborn, something tweaked inside of Sammie, but she was starting to feel her chances of becoming a mother were getting slimmer. So, she’d secretly researched the process of in vitro fertilizati
on as an option. A woman didn’t need a man, or a relationship or marriage, to have a child.

  For now, she had only herself to count on and didn’t have to worry about disappointing anyone, or being disappointed herself, as Brady had done repeatedly. She couldn’t believe she’d wasted three years on a mediocre relationship with a man who saw dollar signs when he looked at her. At this point, she had no clue what they’d do with the business. They could step up, be adults, and continue toward their goal of expanding. If not, then she could buy him out.

  One thing was for certain, she felt free without him.

  With an irritated groan, she turned back to look at the car and scratched her temple. As good as she was with her hands, a mechanic she wasn’t. Crossing her arms over her chest, she tapped the toe of her boot against the road. She was a smart woman who had managed to get herself in a bad predicament. This wasn’t the city where she could dial a number and have a ride and a tow within thirty minutes. Things didn’t work that fast, or smoothly, here in the boondocks. However, she’d handled worse situations. One would be when she showed up at Tanner Ranch and faced her father. If calling her here was some clandestine effort to get her to settle at the ranch and fill her daddy’s boots, she’d run screaming. Not only were those big boots to fill, she was more modern in her business insight. If he was sick, she had every intention of helping him and then returning to Chicago and figuring out what to do with her own life. For the time being, she had to trust that Brady would hold down the fort, maybe cool off after she’d forced him out of her car.

  She wondered if it was time that her daddy retired. While in Colton, she planned to have the conversation with him that every rancher hated to hear. At seventy-one, he needed to consider selling the place. There were no children to hand the ranch down to, unfortunately. She knew Lucas wished he had a son to take over the helm instead of a girl who had her heart stuck on breeding horses, but didn’t care a lick about livestock operation and cotton planting. Looking back, she had been wrong by not learning more about the ins and outs of the place, not that he had invited her to join him in getting his hands dirty. Lucas Tanner was a traditional man with old fashioned beliefs. He’d wanted her to marry a strong cowboy and for her to take a quieter position—a more supportive position like Sammie’s mom had been as wife and mother. Pfft. He should have known better because her mom certainly did. Hannah had told Sammie from an early age that she could be anything she wanted to be and do anything she wanted to do, including running a ranch if that was what she wanted.