Rich, Rugged...Ruthless Page 8

  Max raised a hand to stop her. “I get the idea. Will an extension help them?”

  A softness entered her hazel eyes. “Of course, it would. Emily, his wife, told me that they planned to sell livestock. They would do anything to hold on to their ranch.”

  Max tapped a pencil on his desk. “Okay.”

  She looked perplexed. “Sir?”

  “Give him the extension.”

  “Give him— Oh, sir!” She glowed with a pleasure that deepened every line in her face. “I’ll notify Dwayne and Emily today, sir.”

  Max winced at her formality. This had to stop. “Look, Edna, I don’t know what I was like before, but why don’t we pretend—”

  “Pretend?” Her eyes widened.

  Max guessed he wasn’t prone to such impractical behavior. He went on anyway. “Pretend,” he repeated, “that we’re starting over, and don’t call me sir.”

  She looked unconvinced but agreed. “If you’d prefer that.”

  “I’d really prefer that,” he assured her. “Now, would you like coffee or something?”

  “Sir?” She released a soft, amused laugh. “It will take time to remember not to call you that.”

  “I never offered coffee before, did I?” Max asked, sensing the reason for her confusion.

  “No, I’ve never even been here.”

  She’d never been to his house before? He doubted many people had. Looking at the grand surroundings, he noticed Samantha standing in the doorway. No doubt she’d heard Edna. Was she wondering what kind of man he’d been? She related well to everyone she met. Obviously he didn’t.

  Earlier he’d seen her playing gin rummy in the kitchen with Louise and Martin. After years of employing them, he hadn’t even known their names, yet she’d met them only a day ago and was socializing with them. Hell! Was he being too hard on himself? He probably knew their names, but because of the amnesia, he couldn’t remember them. But what about Edna? Why had he never tried to have a better relationship with her?

  Max drew his errant thoughts back to work and once again focused on the details Edna imparted. He didn’t remember some of the cases they discussed, and struggled to keep up with her. He assured himself that with time all that he’d forgotten would return.

  When Edna stood to leave, Max rose, too. “Thank you for coming, Edna,” he said as he saw her to the door. As soon as he shut it behind his assistant, Sam appeared in the hallway.

  “Let’s go out,” she declared. As his frown started to form, she added in a cajoling voice, “For a ride, Max. We both need to get out.”

  “It was your idea to stay home and watch the ball game,” he reminded her. “If you’d wanted to go out, you should have gone.”

  By yourself was unsaid but heard. Samantha slanted a grin at him. “You’re a sore loser. You promised to do what I wanted if I won.” None too graciously, she reminded him. “I won. So come on.”

  “There’s nowhere I want to go.” The memory of her bending across her car lingered. He took a breath to ease his annoyance. No such luck. She’d moved near. With her sudden closeness, her scent, a delicate flowery fragrance, assailed his senses.

  “It’ll just be a ride. I’ll meet you at the car. I have to get something.”

  “Whatever,” he murmured. Actually he grumbled.

  Six

  Before he thought of an excuse not to go, Sam hurried to the kitchen to pack a picnic basket. Earlier when the plan had taken hold, she’d prepared food.

  She kept telling herself this was about his well-being. She was only doing her job, but she rarely lied to herself. This was about the heat he’d stoked during that kiss. She wanted to get to know him better on a level that had nothing to do with her being his nurse.

  Not wise, she supposed. Anyone could see how different they were. He relied on intelligence and reasoning, on sensibility. His life had revolved around numbers, money, the bottom line. She let emotions lead her, focused on people.

  She doubted he would ever understand her. And maybe she wouldn’t understand him, either, the man he’d been. But then, this wasn’t about that man. This, whatever this was that she felt for him, was about the man he was right now.

  She felt his vulnerability, and his strength. It couldn’t be easy to face a mirror and not recognize the person in it. But he exhibited such determination about finding that man again.

  And while she admired him, and he’d endured her, oddly a compatibility of sorts had developed.

  With Louise and Martin and the birthday cake gone, Sam had the kitchen to herself. It took only minutes to pack the picnic basket.

  She rushed to the car, glancing at the heavy pewter clouds as she placed the picnic basket in the back seat, then joined Max who was already in the car. He never looked her way even when she hooked his seat belt. Eyes closed, head back, he seemed intent to prove he wasn’t going happily along. Why was he so annoyed with her? She’d done nothing.

  With the engine running, the radio on, and Al Hirt wailing out “Harlem Nocturne” on his trumpet, Sam hummed along while she enjoyed the drive. If Max didn’t want to talk, so be it. Contrary to what he might believe, she could be quiet, and set out to prove that.

  She was bothering him—a lot. It had taken a moment for Max to key in on why he felt uneasy. It was her quietness. It wasn’t natural for her to be so quiet. Sitting beside him, she’d said nothing since they’d left the house, just hummed.

  Eyes still closed, he let the soft, sultry sound swirl around him. He felt the warm breeze on his face, caught the smell of rain drifting on the air. Easily he imagined the wind lifting the fiery strands of her hair and tossing them away from her face. Damn. This was why he’d resisted a cozy afternoon of one-on-one with her. Without doing anything, she could bewitch a man.

  “Here we are.”

  Her brightly said announcement coincided with an abrupt, jarring stop. When the sound of the engine died, Max snapped open his eyes. The slam of a car door followed. She was on the move, rounding the front of the car.

  “It’s really beautiful.”

  His heart lurched. No, she was. A hint of sunlight caressed her face, shadowing its delicate features. The wind ruffled her hair, plastered her blouse against her breasts. And his resistance dissolved.

  “It’s so open. So endless,” she continued.

  Where they were was in the middle of nowhere. “What are we doing here?”

  “We’re going to have a picnic.”

  Food. In a basket? Sliding out of the car, Max cast a glance at the prairie grass. Over his shoulder, he saw her lifting the basket from the car. “What’s in there? Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches?”

  “You’re deliberately being difficult again, aren’t you?”

  He supposed he was. “Could be.”

  “A picnic will be fun.” She tucked a blue plaid blanket under her arm and flashed a sunshiny smile at him.

  Guilt fluttered through him. He shouldn’t give her such a hard time, but it was that or total surrender. She’d have him on his knees if he wasn’t careful.

  “You’ll see. Come on,” she urged, even as she stopped. “Aha.” She stood in place and scanned her surroundings. “There. That’s perfect.”

  Max guessed that protesting would be futile. She was fanning the blanket under a giant cottonwood. “What are we eating?”

  “Shrimp salad. Breast of chicken. I think you’ll like everything.” As he joined her on the blanket, she shifted to set a small picnic basket between them. “I brought fruit salad, too.”

  Max braced his back against the tree trunk.

  In the distance, storm clouds gathered above the Crazy Mountains.

  “Did you have a good visit with your friend?”

  “He says he’s one. I’m not sure.” With the mention of Talbot, she’d opened the door to his curiosity. “Before nursing, what kind of jobs did you have?”

  “Jobs?” She looked up from the basket. “Where did that come from?”

  “It’s small talk, S
am.” She moved, leaned closer. Temptation hummed through him to touch her. “Tell me who you are.”

  She laughed airily. “A fortunate woman.” She paused to open a stubborn lid on a plastic container. She was on her own, Max mused. He’d be useless to help her.

  “Since becoming a nurse, I’ve been to a lot of places, met some wonderful people. I told you that one of the women I cared for was a lovely, elderly lady whose goal in life was to see the world. But after she had a stroke, she needed help.” A line of concentration appeared between her brows while she spooned the salad on plates. “Instead of staying home, she traveled while healing, and took me with her. Everywhere. London, Madrid, Dublin.”

  “Nice perk.”

  “Here.” She offered him a bright orange plate filled with food. “Lydia opened a different world to me. I went to the symphony and operas, and in between traveling, I stayed at her estates in Acapulco and Palm Springs and learned about the finer things in life.”

  “Generous woman.”

  Curls framed her face while she dug into the basket for another colorful plate. “Yes, she was wonderful. But eccentric. She only wore purple, and had a Jack Russell terrier that went everywhere with us. I do mean everywhere. One five-star hotel in London refused to allow pets. So she had me buy a baby blanket and a baby’s bonnet. With her so-called baby in her arms, I wheeled her into the hotel.” A laugh rippled from her. “No one guessed.”

  Max had no doubt she’d been totally in step with the woman’s odd ways.

  “Good?” she asked as he sampled the shrimp salad.

  “Everything you make is,” he admitted.

  She beamed and went on. “Lydia was a big influence. Because of her, I saw so much. Look,” she said suddenly, and pointed toward the sky. He, too, saw the eagle gliding overhead. “That is so incredible,” she said. “Since coming to live here, I’ve seen such wonderful sights. A black bear standing on hind legs, a bighorn sheep and now this.”

  Max sampled the chicken. “You weren’t always a city girl,” he said, assuming she had lived in Texas as Talbot had said.

  “No. Mama liked to travel.” Head bent, she snapped open cans of soda. “We lived in a lot of places.”

  “’We’ meaning…?”

  “There was usually a man.”

  “What about your father?”

  She reached for her soda. “I never knew my father. I’m the daughter of Teresa Carter. Her love child. I doubt Mama ever knew who my father was. There was always a man in her life.” She paused, sipped her drink. “She needed to have one.”

  “And that meant Joe and Ian?”

  Sam released a low, husky laugh, one that sounded slightly amused. “There were more than two stepfathers. Five, actually. There was also Leo and George and Carl. She married five times. But there were other men. Some I had liked, truly missed when they’d left. One man in particular, Carl Hansen, was everything to me.”

  In fascination, he watched one of her silver-plated, lizard-shaped earrings sway with the movement of her head. “What made him so special?”

  “I’ve never wondered about that. I only know that to me he was a real father.”

  Someone who offered normalcy? Max wondered. Security?

  “We met him when we were living in Pittsburgh. He was a steelworker. A hardworking man. A sensible one. He was probably the one man Mama chose who would have given her the kind of life I wanted. Unfortunately it wasn’t her kind of life. Too boring. She liked excitement. She liked change.”

  “So the marriage didn’t last long?”

  “Longer than any of the others actually. I really loved him.” She smiled, but Max saw sadness in her eyes. “He used to say that I should go to school. It was important. If I wanted anything in my life, I needed to go to school. He convinced me, and I worked hard to do well.”

  Beneath the breeze, her hair flew forward, framing her face. Max gave in to an urge he’d had since they’d sat down. Gently he lifted strands away from her cheek. “Were you a good student?”

  “A’s mostly.” She raised a hand and caught his to stop the stroke of his thumb on her cheek. “Has anyone told you—well, about things like that?”

  Though amused by her action, Max made no comment about it and backed off for the moment. “Rachel told me that I won scholarships.”

  “I would have guessed that. You wouldn’t like anything beating you.”

  That wasn’t the first time she’d voiced her assessment of him. “When was he—Carl—in your life?”

  “Six years. Until I was twelve. Mama met a carnival guy, and thought he’d be more interesting. Carl had a lot of pride. He wouldn’t put up with her shenanigans, he’d said. So he left.” She met his stare. “I wept for him then and four years later. That’s when Mama learned Carl had died. He left me enough money to start college, but Mama got sick. A gallbladder attack led to an infection. When she died, I knew what I was meant to do. I still had enough money to start college, so I went to a small junior college for a year, then to a university.”

  “Did you plan on nursing?”

  “I wanted to be a pediatrician. I love kids. But that would take too long.”

  Max savored the last of the chicken on his plate. “You could still do it.”

  “I’m content. Physical therapy is so satisfying. I liked the idea of helping people get their lives back to normal.”

  His mind wandered back. He’d heard nothing but affection for her mother, though the woman had never offered Sam a stable life. Recalling his lack of deep feelings about Ellis, he wondered if Sam had had the one thing in her life that his might have lacked—love.

  “At first, I took all kinds of jobs,” she said, coming back to his original question.

  Max grabbed his soda. “What kind?”

  “All kinds. I’ve been on my own since seventeen, working odd jobs, any kind while I went to school. I slung hash, cleaned bathrooms, stripped sheets from motel beds.”

  He couldn’t stop himself. He had to ask. “Anything else?”

  “Why would you want to know?” Puzzlement narrowed her eyes. “Is this…is this about your friend? He said that I look familiar. I don’t remember him. What did he say? Did he remember where we’d met?”

  “He never met you. A friend of his in Big Timber knew you—about you and your mother,” he corrected.

  “Really?” Her lips curved now in an enigmatic smile. “When? Where?”

  “In Lubbock, Texas.”

  “In Lubbock.” She laughed airily. “Oh, Mama was enchanted with a wildcatter named Billy Ray then.” A seriousness crept back into her voice. “Who is this friend of…?”

  Max supplied the name. “Talbot.”

  “Yes.” She gazed thoughtfully at him.

  Max wished he’d never begun this conversation. “Nevich. Ray Nevich.”

  “Oh.” A spark of recognition came to her eyes. “His sister was Caroline…Caroline…” She shook her head. “I don’t remember her married name. But she lived in the same trailer court. She was a well-known gossip. What did she say about us?”

  “It’s not important.”

  “Oh, but it is.” A challenge edged her voice. “That’s why you’ve been asking lots of questions, isn’t it?”

  “It’s probably what you said. Gossip.”

  “Well, why don’t you tell me, and I’ll let you know if it’s true or not.”

  Max wanted to forget this. The light in her eyes had faded a little.

  “Go on.”

  There was no going back now, he knew. “Nevich told Talbot that his sister said you danced at some club.”

  “What club?”

  Max made himself meet her stare. “The Cottontail Club.”

  He watched her lean away to touch a flower, a brown-eyed Susan, a bright orange flower with yellow tips. “And I suppose he told you what kind of club that was?”

  “He mentioned that—”

  “That the trashy Carter woman danced topless.” She fixed eyes filled with displ
easure on him and her chin came up, as if she dared someone to poke at it. “Is that what he said?”

  “Why don’t we forget—”

  “No, we’re not going to. I told you I worked tables to get myself through school. Your grapevine isn’t very accurate. It was Mama, not me, who danced topless. I looked older than fifteen, but that’s all I was when we lived in Lubbock. There was just the two of us. She always did the best she could. Maybe it wasn’t what some other woman would do, but it was her way of making a life for us.”

  Despite the seriousness of her tone, Max nearly smiled. He admired her, admired her strength and the unconditional love she felt for her mother.

  “You had a good relationship with her,” he said rather than asked.

  “She was fun. Mama definitely was fun. That’s probably why she had so many admirers,” she said, choosing a delicate phrase to explain her mother’s many men. A hint of sadness slipped into her voice. “But in the end she was alone. I was there with her, of course, but all those men had passed through her life and not one of them was with her when she needed someone.” She fiddled with the flower again. “All she ever wanted was love.”

  What about Sam? Max wondered. Why wasn’t there a man in her life?

  She was beautiful, an exciting-looking woman with all that red hair and those green eyes, and with skin that looked as soft as velvet. She would turn heads wherever she went. Talbot had told him that she’d been a stunner when she’d been in Texas, and she’d been only fifteen then. “This was good,” he said about the food, instead of forcing more conversation about her personal life.

  She gathered plates and silverware. Tension no longer held her back ramrod-straight. “Thank you.”

  “No dessert?”

  She forgave easily, he knew, as in the next instant her short amused laugh rang on the air. “You want everything, don’t you?” she teased while she maneuvered the plastic plates into the bottom of the basket. “I guess you deserve some reward for putting up with my babbling.” She balled the napkins, then tossed them into the basket. “I must have bored you silly.”

  How wrong she was. She fascinated him. Captivated. Dazzled.