Heart of Thunder

  “Nothing,” she returned stubbornly. “You proved your true feelings long ago.”

  “That was only anger and pride, Sam, I swear.”

  “Oh, God!” she cried. “Get out!” She raised the gun. “Out! I can’t stand any more!”

  Hank stared at her hard for a moment, then slammed out of the room. The forcefulness of his exit signaled its finality, and Samantha knew, deep inside, that she would never see him again. He would leave the house as soon as he could, and that would be the end of it.

  Tears sprang to her eyes, and she wiped them away furiously.

  Chapter 48

  SAMANTHA didn’t leave her room for the rest of the day. Froilana came in later to tell her that Hank had packed all his things and gone. She wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t said good-bye. In truth, she was numb, spent, with nothing left, not even regret.

  When she joined Sheldon for breakfast the next day, she told him she would be leaving for home within the week. Characteristically, he took the news without even raising a brow. But his reply surprised her.

  “What is your hurry, my dear?” he said drily. “After all, your husband isn’t here any longer to elicit any complaints.”

  She drew herself up. “Do I detect a bit of sarcasm, Sheldon?”

  “Well, you must admit you weren’t exactly fair to the man,” he replied.

  Samantha didn’t try to keep the anger from her voice. “You always did take his side, and without knowing any of the facts, too. Did it ever occur to you that I might have had good reason to put him off? The man hates me!”

  “That is ridiculous. It was plain that he loved you.”

  “How would you know?” she snapped, then added cuttingly, “You couldn’t even see what was going on right under your nose with Teresa and Jean. I’m not impressed by your observations regarding Hank.”

  “You fight dirty, don’t you, sister?” Sheldon’s voice was low.

  Samantha blushed. “I’m sorry,” she replied, truly contrite. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “No, it’s quite all right, Samantha,” he said. “The matter is done with, and I’m certainly not going to mourn the loss.”

  “But didn’t you love her?”

  “Yes, I suppose I did.”

  “You suppose?” Samantha was incredulous. “Why did you ask her to marry you if that was all you felt?”

  Sheldon shrugged. “She would have made a suitable wife. It was time I married.”

  “Don’t you think it would be nice to marry someone you love?” she asked, trying to keep her tone reasonable. “Or don’t you want love?”

  “I could ask you the same thing.”

  Samantha’s eyes sparkled again. “Neither Hank nor I wanted to get married. I told you, you don’t know the facts.”

  “But you love each other.”

  “Lord! You’re as infuriating as he is, Sheldon. We were talking about you—for a change. Can you please stick to the subject?”

  “If you must know, I’ve been looking for a wife for quite some time now.”

  “And Teresa was the best you could find? I can’t believe that, Sheldon. Surely there were others?”

  “Yes, actually there were several I could have lost my heart to. But I’m afraid I didn’t strike their fancy.”

  “I can tell you why.”

  He looked at her sharply. “I would rather you didn’t. You are a bit blunt for my taste.”

  “And you’re not blunt enough.”

  “There are certain standards a gentleman must—”

  “Oh, balderdash,” she scoffed. “Where is it written a man can’t show a little feeling? That’s your trouble, Sheldon. You never run hot, not even warm. You’re always cold, cold, cold, like you’re made of stone. You know, the first time you raised your voice since I’ve been here was the other night? You were wonderful!”

  “I was angry, Samantha.”

  “Of course! You had every reason to be. And didn’t you feel better afterward? A person has to feel once in a while, Sheldon. If you’re amused, show it. If you’re happy, show that, too.”

  “And if you’re in love?” he asked pointedly. “You should take your own advice, Samantha.”

  “We’re not talking about me,” she said coldly, and at that, they both fell silent.

  He was right. She loved Hank, but she had never let him know. When had she stopped hating him and fallen in love? Oh, did it matter? She couldn’t go back and do everything all over again. She had made him hate her, and she couldn’t change that now or ever. It was done.

  “Have you seen Teresa?” Samantha asked, hoping to take her mind off Hank.

  “Yes. It was really quite amusing, the way she cried her innocence. She tried to make me believe that Jean acted on his own, and that there was nothing between them.”

  “You didn’t believe her?”

  “Of course not. It was obvious that she had expected me to say that you were dead—not tell her that her lover was in jail. Her shock was apparent. I’m afraid I lost my temper. And you’re right, I did feel much better afterward.”

  Samantha grinned mischievously. “You ought to come home with me, Sheldon. Father could really teach you how to lose your temper.”

  “I might just do that.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Do you mean it?”

  “Yes. Why not?”

  “Oh, Shelly—”

  “For God’s sake, Samantha, don’t call me that!” he said.

  “Oh, shut up.” She laughed. “This is wonderful. You’re going to make father so happy. He’ll be so surprised! Oh, Sheldon, I could kiss you.”

  “Let’s not get carried away, my dear. I haven’t lost all my British veneer yet.”

  “You will, Sheldon. Yes, you certainly will. I’ll see to that.”

  Sheldon cast his gaze heavenward, as if begging for help.

  Chapter 49

  SAMANTHA would never forget the look on her father’s face when he met his full-grown son. That reunion was a heart-rending time.

  After a month, Sheldon seemed a different man altogether, wearing cowboy duds, out on the range each day, learning ranching. He took to it well. And Hamilton was always nearby, watching, teaching, so proud to have his son with him at last.

  Samantha felt a little left out, but she was so happy for her father that she couldn’t complain. They were a whole family now. But she was missing something, missing a man. Little Jaime meant the world to her, but he couldn’t completely fill the void in her life.

  She had done a lot of soul-searching on the trip home, and she saw that her life did not present a pretty picture. If only she could change things so the future wouldn’t look so grim, so lonely.

  The very least she could do was try, she told herself simply. Hank might not love her, and she might end up killing him if he ever looked at another woman, especially Angela, but she would be happier with him than apart from him. That was the truth. She needed Hank. She needed the sight of him. She needed his touch. Damn it, she would make him love her.

  Samantha’s apathy lifted when she made her decision, but all the way to the Hacienda de las Flores she feared that Hank would not even see her. She might have made him too angry during their last meeting. But she had to try.

  She wasn’t going to use Jaime to influence Hank, either. She had left him with her father. Hank had to accept her for herself alone. After all, she did have her pride.

  She was as nervous as a cat when she finally reached the hacienda, her old home. Now Hank’s home. Manuel and his son had escorted her for the week’s journey, and they were all hot and tired when Lorenzo rode out to meet them. His warm greeting didn’t assuage her fears. He didn’t ask why she had come, but the two pack horses laden with her clothing indicated a long visit and Lorenzo grinned, seeing that.

  Hank was in the sala going over his accounts when Lorenzo brought her inside. Samantha stood there nervously, waiting for him to glance up at her. She felt terribly self-conscious, knowing she was not
at her best. Her green silk shirt was sweat-stained and wrinkled, and the black riding skirt and vest were almost brown from trail dust. Tendrils of hair escaped from under her wide-brimmed hat.

  She had brought along the white lace skirt and blouse of her wedding and the thought of it made her blush. Hank would only have to see it to know why she was there.

  Lorenzo’s announcement made her feel even worse.

  “Amigo, look what roamed in off the range.”

  Looking up, Hank rose slowly, speechless. Tension built as he stared at her, the moments going by.

  Lorenzo grinned. “Well, I think I will leave you to…whatever. Just don’t kill each other, eh?”

  The silence that followed Lorenzo’s departure was unbearable.

  “This room,” she said hoarsely, glancing everywhere but at Hank. “It hardly looks the same.”

  “The furniture makes a difference.”

  She couldn’t judge his mood from his voice. “I suppose,” she agreed hurriedly. “I imagine the rest of the house is changed, as well.”

  “Would you like to see it?”

  “No. Perhaps later.” Why were they having this ridiculous conversation? she asked herself.

  “Samantha, what are you doing here?” he blurted finally.

  The opportunity was there at last, but she could not bring herself to admit why she had come. She had rehearsed words over and over, but, faced with Hank, the words just wouldn’t come.

  “I just happened to be in the area,” she said quickly, then could have kicked herself for the silly excuse.

  “Visiting Ramón?”

  She detected the anger in his voice, and her back stiffened. “No, I was not visiting Ramón,” she replied sharply. “And, for your information, I don’t need an excuse to come here. This is my house, too. Or have you forgotten that I’m your wife? If I were to decide to live here, you couldn’t do a thing about it.”

  “You can’t be serious!”

  His amazement brought her temper to the fore. “Yes, I am! In fact, I think I will stay. I’d like to see you try and stop me.”

  Hank stared at her, confused, then shook his head. “I will never understand you, Sam. You remind me that you are my wife, but I seem to remember you denying that the last time we were together.”

  “It suited me to do so.”

  “Oh? And now it suits you to use that title to gain entrance to my house?”

  “Our house.”

  Hank came around his desk and stood in front of her. “Oh, our house. Yet you said we cannot live under the same roof. You did say that, remember? I suppose you would like me to move out?”

  She couldn’t blame him for being angry. This was going all wrong.

  “No, I—”

  “You what?” He cut her off brusquely, his eyes dark and stormy. “You think we can live here together? You may like this constant war, but I do not.”

  “I don’t like it either!” she shouted back.

  “Then why did you come here? Why have you not divorced me? Why haven’t you put an end to it, so I can stop hoping?”

  “Because I love you, damn it!”

  Hank was stunned, but only for a moment. He stared into her eyes, then began to laugh. “Ah, Samina, how long I have waited to hear you say that.”

  He reached for her, but she backed away. “Don’t you touch me, Hank.”

  He ignored her warning tone and reached again, coming closer.

  “Don’t. I mean it. There are things we have to settle first.”

  “Very well.”

  He stepped back, grinning with pure delight. Samantha could barely concentrate. But she had to make herself say the things that needed saying.

  “You’re willing to give our marriage a try?” she began.

  “Querida, how could you doubt it?”

  “Then we’ll give it a chance. But I warn you, Hank. I won’t stand for any unfaithfulness.”

  “Nor will I.”

  She nodded, then started to pace, ready for the difficult part, afraid of what she might learn. “Nor do I want you to pretend you care for me when you really don’t. I’m willing to live with you…but I don’t want any pretending.”

  “Qué diablos!” he swore. “Do you mean to tell me you came here even with those crazy doubts in your mind?”

  “They’re not crazy. You hated me, Hank, you know you did.”

  “You felt the same, little one,” he said gently. “But there was a difference. I never really hated you. There was anger, yes, and hurt. I had found a woman I loved, and she spurned me. But you really did hate me.”

  “Yes.”

  “And now you say you love me. Am I to doubt your word, Sam?”

  “No,” she said uneasily.

  “Then why do you doubt mine?”

  “It’s different.”

  “Why?”

  “You didn’t want to marry me,” she insisted. “You were furious about it.”

  “Yes, I was. Because I was marrying you for the wrong reason instead of for the right one.”

  “To get the land?”

  “Yes. I did not want to marry you for that,” he said softly. “I wanted to marry you to have you and love you. But you were not willing.”

  Samantha was not quite convinced. “You never asked me to marry you, Hank. Not once. That time in Colorado, you asked me to be your woman, not your wife.”

  “You never let me finish.”

  “You said you had no intention of offering marriage,” she reminded him.

  “Ah, Samina, could you not tell that was only pride talking? Of course I meant to marry you. I loved you then—I love you now.”

  “What about Angela?”

  “Por Dios! Can you not just accept what I say?”

  “But you loved her.”

  “I have told you before, she was a beautiful woman and I wanted her. As soon as I met you, she was forgotten.”

  “Really?”

  He sighed. “Yes, really. Are you satisfied now?” Slowly she nodded, and he grinned. “Then will you get over here and kiss me?”

  She ran into his arms. “Oh, Hank! I’m sorry. I just had to be sure. You do understand, don’t you?”

  She was showering his face with kisses, giving him no chance to answer. Finally he caught her head, held her still, and kissed her soundly.

  “Yes, mi amor, I understand. With all that has happened between us, there was reason for us both to doubt. But no more, Samina. No more doubts. Please. You came to me, and now I will never let you go. For the rest of our lives, you will never again doubt my love.”

  She held him close. Her smile was beatific. “For the rest of our lives. How wonderful that sounds. Mi caro, mi querido, I hope you know I will hold you to that promise. And if we fight again—or, rather, when we fight again—I think you know how to make it right. I think you’ve always known.”

  “Yes,” he murmured, and those gray lights danced in his eyes. “Like this,” he said, and kissed her again.

  Epilogue

  SAMANTHA, dressed in buckskins, leaned forward in the saddle, resting her arms lazily on the pommel. They were on the north range, viewing the large herd of cattle there, a herd twice as big as her father’s had ever been. She looked sideways at Hank, but he didn’t see her. He was proudly looking over his land, their land. But she was looking him over, gazing openly at this husband of hers.

  She would have to get used to thinking of him in that way. For so long she hadn’t. For so long she had been such a fool. Now she knew she had been deluding herself all that time.

  How could Hank still love her after what she had put him through? But he did. She didn’t doubt it, not anymore. She glowed, remembering the previous night. She had wondered long before what it would be like to be his willing partner, and now she knew. It was wonderful beyond imagining.

  “Lorenzo comes, and about time, too,” Hank observed as his friend came galloping over to them.

  “You were expecting him?”

  “
Yes.”

  “But I thought we were going to ride alone.”

  She couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice, and Hank grinned at her. “It was to be a surprise, querida. If I had told you before we left the ranch that we would not be returning, you would have delayed, perhaps even refused to go.”

  “Go? Where?”

  Lorenzo approached them and silently handed over two heavily filled horse packs. “To the mountains. These supplies will last until we get there. I sent others ahead last night with more,” Hank explained.

  “You mean the three of us are going back to that camp?” Samantha gasped.

  Lorenzo chuckled. “As much as I would like to join you, Sam, I was not invited. And this one”—he indicated Hank with a bemused grin—“makes me waste my time coming out here with the supplies, just so he could delay telling you.”

  She blushed as the full realization struck her. “We’re going to the mountains, just the two of us?”

  Hank replied, “This is not the first I have thought of it, Sam. I wanted to take you back there before, just after we married.”

  “I wish you had.”

  “You do not mind?”

  “Mind? I think it’s a wonderful idea!”

  “Well, if you two are set on going, you’d better go quickly,” Lorenzo warned them. “We seem to have visitors.”

  “What the devil—” Hank frowned, seeing the large group of riders and a wagon approaching from the north.

  “Why—it’s my father!” Samantha exclaimed.

  “Perdición!” Hank swore. “What is he doing here?”

  “Now, there’s no reason to get upset, Hank.”

  “Do you forget his feelings for me?” Hank asked. “Or does he now accept me as a son-in-law?”

  “Well, no,” she replied uncomfortably. “Actually, he didn’t want me to come here. But I did come, didn’t I? He couldn’t stop me.”

  “I suppose he is here to rescue you then?” Hank said darkly. “If he thinks he can take you from me—”

  “Now, stop it, Hank.” She didn’t raise her voice, but it was an effort. “He is my father.”