Last Chance Ranch

Chapter Four: A Ride to Remember

Samantha couldn't process all that Troy had just told her.

A part of her wished that she had just waited to hear it from the doctors themselves, or Minnie, or anyone else. But a deeper part of herself knew that it was right somehow that she'd heard it from Troy.

"I'm sorry, Samantha." She heard him say softly, and she started a little, realizing that she'd relaxed into him without even meaning to.

"For what?"

She could think of a few things that he could be sorry for, just off the top of her head.

"About your dad. I know how hard this is for you; comin' back here."

Her eyes widened incrementally and she couldn't help her reflexive glance up at his profile. "Do you?" She asked in nearly a whisper, but it wasn't because she was touched.

In fact, she found it made her angry.

He didn't know a damn thing about how she felt.

"Well, you left and never came back, so yeah. But he's really happy you're here, Sam. He might not ever let anyone know it, but he's missed the hell out of you."

Samantha refused to get choked up or sentimental on principle. "I left because he told me to. He said my art was frivolous and a waste of time, and when I told him I wanted to go to Juilliard, he told me that if I left, not to come back."

"That's why you left." It didn't even really sound like a question, but she could hear the burning curiosity hidden behind the bland tone of his voice.

He really didn't know.

Incredible.

She shut her eyes because her head had started to hurt. Being this close to him for this long was sending her system into Troy-overload.

"One of the reasons." She said vaguely. She didn't owe him any explanation. If he didn't already know, he was seriously an idiot.

Troy very much wished that he could lean down and bite that creamy white throat of hers in punishment. Punishment for her rudeness and punishment for leaving him.

"You had to know he didn't mean it." He said softly, licking his lips as he stared hungrily at her throat.

"Well, he didn't call. Plenty of Christmases and birthdays went by without hearing from him."

"So why did you come back at all?"

Samantha hesitated a beat. The answer, the true answer, was too painful to even bear.

"He's my father and he's just had a stroke. What kind of question is that; I had to come!"

Troy could see that he wasn't getting anywhere with her and decided it was time to just shut the hell up. "Of course, Samantha. It was a stupid question; forget it."

He liked to think he knew a thing or two about what women wanted to hear by now.

Samantha's dark brown eyes narrowed. She thought that she knew when he was patronizing her by now. "So why even ask?" She persisted.

Troy lifted his eyes to the clear blue sky and prayed silently for strength. "Like I said, just forget it."

"Well, good thing you don't own me and I don't have to do what you say!"

"I never said you did." He replied mildly, but his eyebrows were riding high now.

"What did you want me to say, huh, that I came back for you?!" It popped out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She regretted it as soon as she'd said it.

For the first time, she felt him stiffen up against her.

"Of course not. I had just given up on you some three months ago, though, to be fair." He continued talking in his low, pleasant northern drawl. His voice had an interesting range of husky and smooth, rough and soothing.

It made thrills and chills chase each other up and down her spine, that voice. She'd forgotten what that damn voice of his did to her.

Unholy things.

Samantha blew out a breath. She could admit when she was wrong. "I'm sorry. That was totally out of line. My only excuse is that I'm more stressed about my dad than I even thought I was?"

Troy grunted. "That's a pretty good excuse, as far as excuses go."

"Thanks. I think so. I'll try not to milk it, though."

They were climbing now and Curly started picking up his pace to gain uphill momentum.

Samantha sucked in a breath as Troy leaned forward, his chest pressing into her back.

She could feel all the warm, firm curves of his well-developed muscles just beneath the fabric of his shirt. His denim jacket was open down the front and she considered asking him to close it before she realized how ridiculous it would sound.

As they crested the hill right then, Rockwood Ranch was visible in all its sprawling glory.

~ ~ ~

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HRH