With This Ring (Denim & Spurs Book 1) Read online

  The bottom fell out of his world. “She’s lying. We’re not getting married.”

  Evan crossed his arms. “And the baby?”

  Lord, he wanted to hide. “Again, sir, this is between Samantha and myself.”

  “That’s what you think. Finn is my daughter, my pride and joy. If you think I’m just going to sit on the sideline while you hurt her even more, you’re a lot dumber than I ever gave you credit for. Her momma may have bailed on us, but I’ll never do that to her. She’s the most precious thing in this world to me, and I will do what I must to protect her.”

  “Even from me?”

  “From anything I deem a threat to my child.” The man stood tall despite the crutch he used.

  “I’m not a threat to her. I love her, and I want to marry her.” He turned and opened the door to his truck, shocked those words had come out of his mouth. Sure he’d been thinking about it but that was whole different animal than blurting it out to Samantha’s father. “And I’ll do that with or without your blessing,” he said, glancing back at Evan.

  The man didn’t seem impressed. “She would never marry you without my blessing. You may have had it all growing up, Dustin Kane, but we’re all each other had and that bond is more than you can believe.”

  Dustin climbed into the truck without comment. He hadn’t a clue on what to say anyway. Evan’s words bothered him, as it was very possible he had been correct on that. Samantha loved her father, that was obvious. But would she choose her father’s blessing over marriage to Dustin?

  Driving home, he mulled over what he’d learned. He dialed her number and waited for an answer. Nothing. He tried five times and each attempt went to voicemail. That being the case, he left five messages.

  The weekend passed the same way. He’d call and leave a message. Dustin kept himself busy and tried to imagine she was home fine, not crashed along the road somewhere, needing him. His nights were rough, filled with nightmares, and his days truly weren’t much better.

  He woke Monday morning to his phone ringing. Not his cell, but his house. Five-thirty the clock beside the bed read. Reaching over, he answered it.

  “Hello?”

  “I made it back to Maryland fine. You can stop blowing up my phone now.”

  His eyes flew open as he jackknifed up in bed. “Samantha.”

  “Dustin.”

  His heart pounded out of control, and he fumbled for the light beside the bed, squinting when it pierced the inky blackness.

  “You left,” he accused. “Didn’t give me a chance to explain.”

  “Nothing to explain.”

  “The hell there isn’t,” he growled. Why did her voice sound so nondescript?

  “There isn’t, Dustin. I grew up without a mother. I refuse to let myself be the reason another child grows up without a parent. I don’t need to envision you and your Barbie doll having a life together, either. We had fun, let’s leave it at that. But there are some things which don’t make sense, and that is one of them.”

  It may have been his imagination, but he heard jealousy and hurt in her voice. “Because you love me. And have since the fourth grade.” He didn’t ask, he told.

  Her laugh was harsh and not at all humorous. “Sure. Goodbye, Dustin.”

  She hung up before he could say another word, leaving him with the endless droning of the dial tone. He felt sick to his stomach. Her four words had been so final. So absolute.

  * * * *

  “What’s the problem, Finn-girl?” A deep, booming voice asked from across the courtyard.

  She lifted her head and smiled at the barrel-chested man walking toward her. Victor Cooper. Pausing, she waited for him to join her. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

  Victor ran the stables here as manager. He loved horses and unfortunately had been born with an inner ear issue that threw off his equilibrium so he never could ride as well as he wished. So he now ran the stables and was the right-hand man of the owner.

  He cocked a brow at her and crossed massive arms. “Really? You think I can’t see the long, drawn face? I have an ear problem, not an eye one. Is it your father? Something happen to set him back?”

  “No, he’s fine.” She shrugged. “I just…”

  “Guy troubles. Who is he? Tell me and I’ll go beat him into a tiny snot pulp.”

  She snorted. “There’s a visual, thanks.”

  “It got a smile from you, so I’m good.” He draped his arm around her, and they walked again. “What’s wrong with him? Is he being stupid?”

  “No, it’s…complicated.”

  “If you say so.”

  She rested her head against the solid muscle of his upper arm. “I wish I had the faith in people you do, Victor.”

  “I choose to embrace the good.” He chuckled. “Now, tell me how was Texas.”

  That night as she settled into her room and finished unpacking her remaining bags, she paused at the sight of a horseshoe necklace Dustin had purchased for her at the Expo. She reached out and lifted it, silver, and whatever gems they used along the horseshoe had been inlaid to glint at each hint of light. It lingered in her hold until she forced herself to place it on her dresser top.

  Rubbing one arm, she rested her hip against the windowsill and stared out across the farm. Beautiful for sure, however, now it created a cloistering feel, which hadn’t been there before. In the sliver of moonlight, she could make out some of the horses playing outside in the cool temperatures.

  She missed the sounds that came with being home. Mrs. Pendle humming and conversing with her father over lunch about the latest technique that had people talking. Here it was just her at night. She glanced about her small apartment. More of a studio actually. Normally she spent her nights reading, as the wall of books attested.

  Face it, you miss Dustin. She scowled at her inner commentary and pushed from the window with a disgraced huff. He had his own life to think about, in Texas. And she had hers. Here, in Maryland.

  It still soured her gut to imagine him and Charlotte married and with a child. Rolling her eyes, she pulled out some fruit and chopped it into a salad. “He was to be married to her the night you reacquainted with him,” she reminded herself. “Had that gone through you’d not even had what you did have with him. He wouldn’t be yours.”

  And he is now? Pretty sure you ran from him like a scared little cat. She growled and tightened her grip on the knife handle, hating the implication she was a wimp.

  So why didn’t you let him explain?

  “Because had it been that important to share with me, he would have done so the night at the expo when Charlotte first told him she was pregnant. But no, he chose to ignore that and take my ass to bed.” Fury pushed the uncertainty away and she breathed better, holding on to her anger toward him.

  “It’s the past. Over and done with. I have a life here, a great life.” With that affirmation, she washed her hands, grabbed a fork, and took her salad to the small table to eat.

  Over the next few weeks, she settled back into her routine. The only difference now was occasionally there were calls from Dustin. Seated on an outside bench, she stared at her phone, tempted to listen to his latest message. He didn’t make breaking away easy, that was for sure. Each time she heard his voice, it displaced another brick in the wall she’d erected around her heart.

  “There you are, Finn,” a man spoke off to her left.

  She turned her head and saw the owner, Rolf Torkjelson, making his way to her side. Immediately she stood and shoved her phone in her pocket. “Yes, sir?”

  He flashed a grin, which made his teeth sparkle along with his pale blue eyes. “You insist on this ‘sir’ calling. All these years and still.”

  “Old habits,” she replied with an indolent shrug. “What can I do for you?”

  “Can you accompany us to the show this weekend?”

  “Of course. I love going to shows.”

  “Wonderful. We have so many entered I just wished for another hand that I
know I can trust near. James cannot go with us, he is suddenly sick. We will pay you of course.”

  It was true that they treated her as part of the family and she didn’t mind helping them out, but she would send the extra money to her father. Besides, it would keep her mind off the tall cobalt blue eyed devil that refused her a moment’s respite.

  “No problem. I had no plans to go anywhere this weekend as it is.” She pursed her lips. “Should I make a reservation?”

  “No, I made one when I booked for us.” They fell into step together and made their way back to the first barn. “I only ask because our times are a bit close and in different arenas.”

  “Just tell me what to do.”

  “In case we can’t be all there for Gerda, I know she looks up to you and would love to be able to have you at her side. And if you don’t mind pulling a trailer? We’re taking a few horses to sell as well, I know you prefer to drive your truck.”

  Their daughter, Gerda, was ten and quite a rider in her own right. And he was correct on that, she did prefer her truck. “No problem, for either. When are we leaving?” she asked, as they entered the darkened and cooler interior of the barn.

  “Tomorrow, after we get them all loaded. I want to be on the road before noon.”

  Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she withdrew it. Dustin’s name flashed on the Caller ID, and pulsing excitement moved through her. Damn me for wanting to hear his voice so much. I’m such a weak-willed person. It was the only reason she would pick it up now, well, that and she had a reason to hang up sooner than later. “Excuse me a moment.” She took a deep breath and answered, “Hello?”

  “Here I was beginning to think you’d never take a call from me again.”

  Just the sound of his voice had her body reacting in ways she truly wished it wouldn’t, especially when she was with her boss. “Dustin,” she said in a calm voice. “What can I do for you?”

  Lord, she could envision him with those worn jeans that hugged him in a way she’d done, only without a stitch of clothing on. The broad chest covered by a dark button-down shirt. The black Stetson on his head and dusty boots on his feet. Wide shoulders, lean hips, and muscles, everywhere. She bit back her whimper of longing.

  “You can talk to me.”

  Rolf watched her carefully. “I’m sorry, now’s not a good time. I’m in the middle of a discussion with my boss.”

  The rumble, which skated along the line almost, had her glancing around for some feral animal. “Samantha.”

  “Bye, Dustin.” She ended the call and blew out a ragged breath.

  “Friend?”

  “Guy I grew up with back in Texas. I’ll call him back when we’re done.”

  The blue eyes that watched her saw far more than she wanted him to, she was certain of it. Thankfully, all he did was begin walking again and filling her in on the weekend. As she listened, her mind lingered over the warm Texas drawl, which never failed to make her feel special.

  She never called him back that night, but the next day she made sure to do so. Granted, it was moments before they were to pull out, but she stood on the side step and pressed the button to dial his number.

  “Samantha,” he said by way of answering.

  “What did you need, Dustin?” Around her, the Torkjelson children ran and hollered to each other in their native Norwegian.

  “I want to talk to you, but you seem too busy to do such a simple thing.” His voice hard.

  She stiffened her spine, eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m sorry my working is an inconvenience for you.”

  He blew out a harsh breath. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

  “Look, I have to leave soon, so what is it?”

  “Where are you going?” The creak of his leather chair reached her. “And what’s going on around you?”

  “We’re heading to a show, you’re hearing their children.” Her mind raced back to Charlotte and her claim. “How’s things with your kid?”

  “I don’t have one…unless you have something to tell me.”

  Damn that flicker of hope in her heart. She barely stopped herself from placing a hand over her womb. “Charlotte?”

  “Is a lying whore. She’s not even pregnant.”

  Her legs wanted to give out on her, but she forced steel into them and remained standing. “I’m not sure if I should offer my congratulations or not.”

  “Damn it, Samantha. Why are you acting like a stranger?”

  “We’re ready, Finn,” Gunnar called, making his way toward her truck.

  “Look, I have to go, Dustin. I’m glad for you that it’s working out with Charlotte.”

  “No! There is nothing working out with her. I want nothing to do with her.”

  “I meant that in terms of however it was good for you.” She moved the phone. “Are you riding with me, Gunnar?” He nodded, and she waved him into the truck. Returning her attention to the phone, she licked her lips. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said. “I’m glad things are working out for you. I wish you nothing but the best, Dustin.”

  “Wait. Wait, Samantha, please. Answer one thing for me?”

  She climbed in the cab and buckled herself in. “What’s that?”

  “Was your father right about what you’ve felt for me since fourth grade?”

  She nearly hung her head in shame but at the last moment remembered he couldn’t see her, even if Gunnar could. “Doesn’t matter, Dustin.”

  “It matters, Samantha Mallory, never forget that.”

  “Goodbye.”

  She stared at the screen of her smartphone for a moment before she set it down and got them moving, turning her attention and focus to the trailer she followed as well as the road. Gunnar remained silent for all of two minutes and when he spoke, she was grateful for the distraction from her own wallowing thoughts.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dustin stared at the phone in his hand. He really longed to put it through the window of his office so it scattered across the deck and into the shrubbery. A knock at the door brought his head up.

  “What?”

  Connor stood there, his gaze hard. The man still hadn’t forgiven him for how things had gone down with Samantha. “Some cutters here to talk to you about some of your horses.”

  He shoved his chair back and made his way to the door, swiping his Stetson on the way out. “Thanks.” He’d been waiting for them to show, a few of the contacts he’d made at the expo.

  Connor didn’t do anything other than grunt. Before they left the house, he paused and grabbed his friend’s arm.

  “How long you going to blame me, Connor?”

  Green eyes stared by him, searching. “Is Finn back and I just haven’t seen her yet?”

  He scowled. “You know she’s not here.”

  “Then I still blame you.” His foreman pivoted away and continued to the door.

  “She’s the one who left, you know. Not me. I’m still here,” he snapped.

  Connor veered around, flames alive in his gaze. “Right. You’re just the one who had his slut back at the house talking about her pregnancy when she arrived. You’re the one who didn’t go after her. You’re the one who fucked up, so why shouldn’t I blame you? You had a woman who loved you, and you let her get away. I liked Finn. She was one hell of a woman, and you blew it.”

  There had to be more than that to it, but Connor strode outside before he could pose the question. Sure enough, three men awaited him outside, and he shoved lingering thoughts of Samantha to the side and focused on making some sales.

  Later that night, however, as he sat in his living room, staring unseeing at the show that played on the large flat screen, he realized Connor had made some valid points. He’d said she’d loved him. First, how had he known and why did he use past tense?

  Pushing to his feet, he made his way to his study and dug around for his high school yearbook from his senior year. He sat at his desk and flipped it open, searching through the freshman until he found S
amantha. A small smile curled his lips as he stared at her image. Such a tomboy in the shot. She looked as if she’d rather be anywhere than where she was. Perusing through, he found a few more shots of her, in her basketball uniform and in the stands at football games.

  He couldn’t forget what her father had said either and got up to pour himself a drink. Back at his chair, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number he knew by heart.

  “Hello?”

  Her voice, rough and sleepy, made him think of how she sounded after waking from spending the night in his arms. Jealousy surged through him, leaving an acidic taste in his mouth.

  “Samantha.”

  She yawned. “What are you calling me for, Dustin?”

  “Did you love me in school?”

  “What does it matter? Are you trying to find out just how pathetic I was?” Muffled sounds. “Is this how you get your rocks off? Fine, I’ll tell you since you can’t seem to let it go. Yes. I did. Happy? My dumb ass fell for you in the fourth grade. Perhaps earlier, I just didn’t know what it was. All through school all I ever did was want the great Dustin Kane to even acknowledge I existed. It never happened. I managed to survive, and I will continue to do so.”

  “I didn’t know.”

  She snorted. “Of course you didn’t. Why would you? You are so far out of the league of someone like me.”

  “Like you?” He frowned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, figure it out, Dustin. I can’t do this anymore. Now you know, you can do with it what you will. Leave me alone.” She hung up.

  He drained the rest of his drink and placed his phone on the polished desk. Leave her alone? Not hardly. The words bothered him but not as much as the tears in her voice did. If she’d been pissed when she spoke that, perhaps he’d believe it more. But this was sorrow. All he needed was to see her again. He could explain everything, tell her he loved her.

  “Just a few years of stupidity for me to catch up on,” he mumbled to himself as he drummed his fingers on the yearbook. “And no, it’s not how I get my rocks off, Samantha. Not even close.”