“Do you want some more salad, Samantha?” They were halfway through dinner before Samantha seemed to remember where she was. For half an hour she had been silent and dreamy and drifting as Caroline watched her and wondered what was the cause. Sam didn't look unhappy, so she didn't think she was upset that Caroline had been watching the newscast. She didn't look homesick. In fact she looked fine, so it had to be something else. “Something wrong, Sam?”

“Hmm?”

“Something right?”

“What?… Oh… I'm sorry.” Samantha blushed like a schoolgirl and then shook her head with a brief girlish laugh. “No, I was just distracted. It was a long day today, but I enjoyed it.” It was the only way she could explain the outrageous glow she knew she wore and the look on her face.

“What on earth did you do?”

“Nothing special. Roped some horses, checked the fences, the men roped some steers this afternoon…” She tried to remember. Mostly she had dreamed about Tate. “It was just a nice day really.”

The wise old woman watched her closely. “I'm glad that you're happy here on the ranch.”

Samantha's face grew oddly serious as she remembered. “I am, Aunt Caro. I'm happier here than I've been anywhere else in a long time.”

Caroline nodded and addressed herself to her salad as Samantha went back to dreaming of Tate. But it wasn't until the next morning that she saw him. The night before she had heard Bill King come and go, with envy this time. But there had been no way that Tate could come to her, and as she lay in her bed, longing for him, she smiled to herself, it was like being eighteen and having an illicit affair. She felt suddenly young and girlish, terribly clandestine, and impatient to be with him again.

It was seven o'clock the next morning, Sunday, when she gulped her coffee, zipped up her jeans, donned her jacket, brushed her hair one last time, and then ran out to the barn, hoping that she might find him there. As it turned out, when she got there, there was no one. The men who had come to feed the horses had already gone back to the main hall to eat, and she was alone in the huge barn with the familiar horses, each one in its stall, quietly eating or resting or softly greeting each other, as Samantha slowly made her way to Black Beauty's stall. She ran a hand slowly down his muzzle and then felt the soft whiskered lips brush her hand, looking for something to eat.

“I didn't bring you anything this morning, Beauty. I'm sorry, boy.”

“Never mind him.” The low voice came from behind her. “What did you bring me?”

“Oh!” She wheeled around to face him, startled, and before she could catch her breath, he had taken her swiftly in his arms, almost crushing the air out of her lungs as he held her and kissed her quickly, and then let her go.

“Good morning, Palomino.” He spoke in a whisper and she blushed.

“Hello… I missed you.”

“I missed you too. Do you want to go to the cabin this morning?” Anyone even a few feet from them couldn't have heard him speaking, and Samantha nodded quickly with a bright light of anticipation in her eyes.

“I'd like that.”

“I'll meet you at the south fence, in the clearing. Do you know where that is?” He looked suddenly worried as he watched her as though he were afraid she might get lost, but she only laughed.

“Are you kidding? Where do you think I've been all week long while you've been working?”

“I don't know, babe.” He grinned at her. “Same place I've been, I suspect. Halfway out of your head.”

“You're not far wrong.” And then, as he made to go, she grabbed at his sleeve and whispered, “I love you.”

He nodded, brushed her lips with his own, and whispered in answer, “I love you too. See you at ten.” And then he was gone, his heels clicking loudly on the barn floor, and a moment later as he turned a bend there was a shouted greeting to two of the men coming to tend their horses. A moment earlier and they would have seen him kissing Samantha. Instead all they saw now was Sam diligently feeding Caroline's best horse.

14

They met at five minutes before ten in the south clearing, their horses fresh, the sky blue, their eyes bright with desire. It was a little crazy, this brand-new passion, she couldn't explain it but deep in her gut, she knew that she had to be with him, and she was ready to make a commitment to him for the rest of her life. She tried to explain it to him later that morning, as they lay in the big comfortable brass bed in the pale blue bedroom, their bodies tired, their hearts light, and his arm encircling her as she nestled at his side.

“I don't know, Tate, it's as if… as if I've always been waiting for you. As if suddenly I know what I was born for…”

“You mean screwing?” He grinned at her and rumpled the exquisite hair.

“Don't call it that.” She looked hurt.

“I'm sorry.” He kissed her softly and touched her face. “Making love. That's what it is, you know, no matter what I call it.”

“I know it is.” She moved closer to him with a happy smile and closed her eyes. “It must be wrong to be this happy. It's certainly indecent.” Her eyelids fluttered and he kissed the tip of her nose.

“Is it? Why?” He looked just as happy as she as he lay there. “Why don't we have a right to feel like this?”

“I'm not sure. But I hope we do and for a very long time.” Their thoughts went in unison to Bill and Caroline, who had lain in the same bed before them and were still together after such a long time.

“It's crazy, Tate, it's all so new between us and it just doesn't feel like it, does it?”

“No, but if you don't stop talking about it, I'm going to start treating you like you've been around for the last twenty years.”

“And then what?”

“I'll ignore you.”

“Just try it.” She ran a slender finger up the inside of his thigh and stopped interestingly where his legs joined.