not?”
“Because you’ll land on your fanny halfway out the gate. He’s not easy to ride, Sam.” And then more gently, “Not even for you, I suspect.” Caroline had seen years before that Samantha was a splendid rider, but she knew only too well that Black Beauty was an unusual horse. He even gave her a hard time, and he terrified the foreman and most of the ranch hands. “Give it time. I promise I’ll let you ride him when you feel sure of yourself again.” They both knew that that wouldn’t take Sam long. Shehad spent too much time with horses to feel rusty for long. “You know, I was hoping you wanted to do some serious riding. Bill and I have spent the last three weeks tearing our hair out over the ranch papers. We have a lot of things to tie up at year end. As I told you, we’re two men short on top of it. We could use an extra hand. If you want to, you could ride with the men.”
“Are you serious?” Samantha looked stunned. “You’d let me do that?” Her big blue eyes lit up by the light of the fire, her golden hair was alight with its glow.
“Of course I would let you. In fact I’d be grateful to you.” And then, with a gentle smile, “You’re as competent as they are. Or you will be again after a day or two. Think you’d survive starting out with a full day in the saddle?”
“Hell yes!” Samantha grinned, and Caroline walked toward her with a look of affection in her eyes.
“Then get to bed, young lady. You have to be up at four o’clock. In fact I was so sure you’d say yes, I told Tate Jordan to expect you. Bill and I have to go into town.” She looked at her watch then. It was a simple watch that Bill King had given her that Christmas. Once, thirty years earlier, the only watches that had graced her wrist had been Swiss and encrusted with diamonds. There had been one in particular that her husband had bought her in Paris, at Cartier’s. But she had long since put it away. Sometimes she found it hard to believe that she had ever had another life. She stood looking at Samantha now with a warm smile and gave the younger woman another firm hug. “Welcome home, darling.”
“Thank you, Aunt Caro.”
With that, the two women walked slowly down the hall. Caroline knew that the fire was safely contained in the fireplace, and she left the tray for the Mexican woman who arrived every morning to work on the ranch and clean her house.
She walked Samantha to her bedroom doorway and watched as Sam eyed the room with delight. It was a different room than she had shared with Barbara during the summers. Caroline had long since turned that room into a study. It had pained her too much to remember the young girl who had visited and lived there, growing into young womanhood in the pink frills of that room. This room was entirely different. It was equally feminine, but stark white. Everything was white eyelet and wonderfully frilly, from the canopied bed to the handmade cushions to the wicker chaise longue. Only the wonderful patchwork bedspread folded back on the bed introduced some colors, and here were a riot of bright colors, reds and blues and yellows, all carefully worked in a log-cabin design. There were matching cushions on two comfortable wicker chairs near the fireplace. And on the large wicker desk rested a huge vase of multicolored flowers. And through her windows Samantha would have a perfect view of the hills. It was a room in which one would want to spend hours, if not years. The touches of Hollywood hadn’t entirely left Caro. She still decorated every room with the special touches and infinite good taste that had characterized her Hollywood years.
“It sure doesn’t look like the bedroom of a ranch hand.”Sam chuckled as she sat down on the edge of the bed and looked around.
“Not exactly. But if you’d prefer, I’m sure one of the men would be happy to share a bunk in one of the cottages.” They grinned at each other, kissed again, and then Caroline softly closed the
“Because you’ll land on your fanny halfway out the gate. He’s not easy to ride, Sam.” And then more gently, “Not even for you, I suspect.” Caroline had seen years before that Samantha was a splendid rider, but she knew only too well that Black Beauty was an unusual horse. He even gave her a hard time, and he terrified the foreman and most of the ranch hands. “Give it time. I promise I’ll let you ride him when you feel sure of yourself again.” They both knew that that wouldn’t take Sam long. Shehad spent too much time with horses to feel rusty for long. “You know, I was hoping you wanted to do some serious riding. Bill and I have spent the last three weeks tearing our hair out over the ranch papers. We have a lot of things to tie up at year end. As I told you, we’re two men short on top of it. We could use an extra hand. If you want to, you could ride with the men.”
“Are you serious?” Samantha looked stunned. “You’d let me do that?” Her big blue eyes lit up by the light of the fire, her golden hair was alight with its glow.
“Of course I would let you. In fact I’d be grateful to you.” And then, with a gentle smile, “You’re as competent as they are. Or you will be again after a day or two. Think you’d survive starting out with a full day in the saddle?”
“Hell yes!” Samantha grinned, and Caroline walked toward her with a look of affection in her eyes.
“Then get to bed, young lady. You have to be up at four o’clock. In fact I was so sure you’d say yes, I told Tate Jordan to expect you. Bill and I have to go into town.” She looked at her watch then. It was a simple watch that Bill King had given her that Christmas. Once, thirty years earlier, the only watches that had graced her wrist had been Swiss and encrusted with diamonds. There had been one in particular that her husband had bought her in Paris, at Cartier’s. But she had long since put it away. Sometimes she found it hard to believe that she had ever had another life. She stood looking at Samantha now with a warm smile and gave the younger woman another firm hug. “Welcome home, darling.”
“Thank you, Aunt Caro.”
With that, the two women walked slowly down the hall. Caroline knew that the fire was safely contained in the fireplace, and she left the tray for the Mexican woman who arrived every morning to work on the ranch and clean her house.
She walked Samantha to her bedroom doorway and watched as Sam eyed the room with delight. It was a different room than she had shared with Barbara during the summers. Caroline had long since turned that room into a study. It had pained her too much to remember the young girl who had visited and lived there, growing into young womanhood in the pink frills of that room. This room was entirely different. It was equally feminine, but stark white. Everything was white eyelet and wonderfully frilly, from the canopied bed to the handmade cushions to the wicker chaise longue. Only the wonderful patchwork bedspread folded back on the bed introduced some colors, and here were a riot of bright colors, reds and blues and yellows, all carefully worked in a log-cabin design. There were matching cushions on two comfortable wicker chairs near the fireplace. And on the large wicker desk rested a huge vase of multicolored flowers. And through her windows Samantha would have a perfect view of the hills. It was a room in which one would want to spend hours, if not years. The touches of Hollywood hadn’t entirely left Caro. She still decorated every room with the special touches and infinite good taste that had characterized her Hollywood years.
“It sure doesn’t look like the bedroom of a ranch hand.”Sam chuckled as she sat down on the edge of the bed and looked around.
“Not exactly. But if you’d prefer, I’m sure one of the men would be happy to share a bunk in one of the cottages.” They grinned at each other, kissed again, and then Caroline softly closed the
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