Samantha and the Cowboy (7 page)

Sitting near the fire, Sam watched as Squirrel, Slim, Jed, and Jeb played a hand of poker. They hadn't asked her to join them, and she had too much pride to ask.

Matt had gone to talk with Jake, who was off inspecting the herd.

Two weeks had passed, and her confidence in her ability to appear to be a boy was growing stronger. She was talking to the men more, not keeping her distance as much.

She knew that she should remain wary, but she was incredibly lonesome.

Getting Matt to carry on a conversation was like pulling teeth. The rare smiles he'd bestowed upon her haunted her. She imagined he could catch the fancy of any girl he wanted with that devastatingly beautiful smile.

She wanted more smiles from him. More trust.

And she knew that was dangerous. Because if she became close to him—to anyone—she risked the discovery of her secret.

And yet, she was growing so tired of always hovering on the fringes of the camp, watching as friendships between
the others began to strengthen, and knowing none of those friendships included her.

She shifted her backside over the log she was sitting on. Jeb glanced up. Even though it was night, they were all still wearing their hats.

“Maybe we ought to invite Sam to join us,” he said to no one in particular.

“Only real trail hands can play,” Slim said.

“I am a real trail hand,” Sam blurted out, irritated that they'd think otherwise.

Squirrel glanced at Slim before shrugging. “Sam's close enough to being a trail hand.”

“Not close enough, as far as I'm concerned,” Slim said. “I haven't seen Sam catch a snipe yet.”

“What's a snipe?” Sam asked, without thinking.

All four trail hands looked at her as though she were crazy.

“Surely you know what a snipe is,” Jed said.

“All cowboys know what a snipe is,” Jeb said.

“Think, Sam,” Squirrel prodded, “deep down inside, you know what a snipe is, don't you?”

“It's something every real cowboy knows without being told,” Slim added.

Sam swallowed hard. She wanted to measure up something fierce. She nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I know what a snipe is. I just wasn't thinking.”

“Well, to truly belong, you have to catch one. It's a rite
of passage. We all did it before you signed up,” Slim said.

The others grinned broadly and nodded.

“So what do I do?” Sam asked.

“Go tell Cookie you're going snipe hunting. He'll give you a burlap sack.” Slim stood. “I'll get our horses and take you to where I spotted a snipe hole earlier.”

“Maybe I should wait for Matt,” Sam said hesitantly.

“Snipes are shy,” Slim explained. “They don't come out if there's more than one person around. Snipe hunting is a solitary endeavor.”

“'Sides, Matt wouldn't take you snipe hunting. He's afraid of snipes,” Squirrel said.

“Iffen you want to be considered a real trail hand, you've gotta do this,” Slim said. “I can get you out there and back before Matt returns.”

Sam contemplated facing Matt's anger. He'd told her to stay here, but she needed to show him and Jake that she could take care of herself. She nodded before she lost her courage. “All right, I'll do it.”

She tromped over to the wagon where Cookie was washing up his pots and pans. “Cookie, could I borrow a burlap sack?”

“What fer?” he asked grumpily.

“I'm going to hunt for a snipe.”

His bushy white eyebrows shot up to his balding pate. “Them fellas over there put you up to this?”

She nodded.

He shook his head. “Can't believe it took 'em this long. They send most greenhorns out on their first night.”

“Don't suppose you'd like to tell me what a snipe looks like?” she asked.

“Oh, you'll know it when you see it,” Cookie assured her. He cackled like an old woman. “You'll know it when you dadgum see it.”

 

Matt noticed it the instant he walked into the camp. Expectancy hung heavy in the air. He didn't like it. Didn't like it one bit.

He glanced around. Sam was nowhere to be seen. Trepidation sliced through him. He strode to the fire where the troublesome foursome were busy playing cards.

“Where's Sam?” he demanded.

Squirrel guffawed while the rest of them snickered.

“Where is he?” Matt insisted.

“Sent him snipe hunting,” Slim said, grinning like a carved pumpkin at Halloween.

Matt should have known. The single most popular cowboy prank was to send new trail hands snipe hunting. Just take them out to the middle of nowhere and tell them to bag a snipe. He'd never understood why cowboys thought it was funny to send someone on a wild-goose chase after an imaginary critter.

He should have thought to warn the kid, but he'd been more concerned with keeping his distance emotionally
when he couldn't do it physically. He'd been teaching the kid how to be a first-rate trail hand. He just hadn't given any thought to teaching him how to be a cowboy.

“Why did you have to go and do that? He's just a kid,” Matt said.

“Ain't no harm in it,” Jed said. “It's part of being a cowboy.”

“Where did you take him?” Matt asked.

Slim jerked his head to the side. “Far enough away from the cattle that he wouldn't start a stampede.”

“Come on, Matt. Don't look so mad,” Jed said. “We was just having some fun with the kid.”

“But that kid is my responsibility. He's never been away from home.” He looked into the darkness. Trees lined the river, but once he moved beyond the trees, there was nothing but emptiness and the cattle that were bedded down for the night.

“You idiots,” he muttered as he headed for the remuda to re-saddle his horse.

“Ah, Matt, the kid will be all right,” someone called after him.

But what if he wasn't? His heart was hammering. What if he wasn't?

 

It took Sam all of fifteen minutes to figure out she'd been duped.

She'd had her suspicions when Slim hadn't been able to
remember exactly where he'd seen the snipe hole, but he'd been sure she'd find it if he left her here alone.

In the moonlight, she'd seen an armadillo scurry across the land. She heard the lowing of the distant cattle.

She'd never heard of a snipe, and the more she thought about the sly glances the fellas had been passing among themselves while discussing snipe hunting, the more she'd realized she was on the wrong end of a prank.

She should have been furious—hurt, even. But she had a feeling that snipe hunting was exactly what Slim had indicated it was—a rite of passage. She wouldn't have minded the prank so much if it wasn't dark and she wasn't alone.

She had a gun that she'd never fired. A horse she'd never ridden except to this spot. And an empty burlap sack.

And when she returned to camp, she'd no doubt discover Matt's anger. Or his disappointment that she'd been foolish enough to believe the boys.

She saw a silhouette emerging from the darkness and immediately recognized the man by the way he sat in the saddle and the shape of his shoulders. She was unsettled by how well she knew even his outline.

He drew his horse to a halt in front of her, and she heard his sigh of annoyance.

“Kid, what were you thinking to let them leave you out here alone?” he scolded.

She felt the tears sting her eyes. Of all the things she'd
feared when she'd decided to disguise herself as a boy, being without a friend hadn't been one of them.

But boys didn't cry, so she had to shore up her emotions, and the quickest way was with anger. “Will you stop calling me ‘kid'? My name is Sam.”

“I know your name,” he mumbled.

“Then use it,” she spat out. “Unless you're afraid.”

“Why would I be afraid?”

“Using my name might make us seem like friends. Calling me ‘kid' helps you keep this distance between us that you're so all-fired anxious to keep.”

“Look, kid, I told you we weren't going to be friends.”

“Did you tell everyone else that they couldn't be friends with me, either?”

“Of course not,” he said. “Is that the reason you let them talk you into coming out here? So you could be friends with them?”

“What if it is?”

“Then it was a pretty stupid reason.”

More tears surfaced. He was right—she'd been gullible. She quickly turned away so he wouldn't see the moonlight reflecting in her pool of tears.

The saddle creaked as he dismounted.

She felt his nearness even though he wasn't touching her.

“I just wanted to belong. I work so hard, Matt, but I'm so dadgum lonely. I wasn't expecting not to have any friends.” With the back of her hand, she swiped
roughly at the tears that had rolled onto her cheeks. She couldn't explain the loneliness of being the only girl surrounded by males. Not when she was supposed to be a boy.

“Geez, Sam, don't cry,” he said quietly.

“I'm not crying.” She lied. So much for keeping her promise to be honest. She stomped away from him, irritated with her weakness, more irritated with him for being strong.

“Sam, you promised no more lies.”

She spun on her heel and marched toward him. “All right, then. Here's the truth.” She jabbed her finger into his chest, not surprised it felt like hitting it against a brick wall. “I'm hundreds of miles from home, from anyone who cares about me. I could get killed—”

“Don't say that!” he interrupted. “You're not going to die out here.”

“I might. And no one would care.”

“I'd care.”

“No, you wouldn't. Friends care, Matt. You told me we weren't going to be friends. I'm trying, but it's really hard. Not having a single friend, waking up to your scowling face. Going to sleep without even hearing a good-night.” She spun away. She sounded like a girl now, and that was the last thing she'd intended. She didn't mind the calluses on her hands, but she was starting to feel them forming on her heart. She didn't want to be as
hard as Matt or Jake or Cookie.

“Cowboys don't make good friends, Sam. Most are running from something.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “What are you running from, Matt?”

He dropped his gaze and began kicking the ground with the toe of his boot. He kept telling her not to lie, but with his silence he was as guilty as she was of not being honest. But she'd never convince him of that.

“I feel like such a fool,” she admitted. “Snipe hunting. The others will never respect me, now that I was so stupid,” she added.

“You weren't that stupid,” he said, lifting his gaze to hers. “Went snipe hunting myself when I was twelve.”

“You did?”

“Sure. Every cowboy does. Can't call yourself a real cowboy if you haven't. I imagine even Jake has gone snipe hunting.”

“Then why were you so mad at me?”

“I feel responsible for you, Sam, and I'm afraid I'm going to let you down. Sounds as though that's exactly what I'm doing. I'll try to be a tad more friendly.”

He said “friendly” as though it was something he was afraid of stepping in and having to scrape off the bottom of his boot. She wanted to tell him not to do her any more favors, but the truth was, of all the men on the cattle drive, Matt was the one she most wanted to be friends with.

“It would help if Jake wouldn't watch us so closely,” she said.

“I agree. As a matter of fact, that's what I went to talk to him about. But he's not comfortable with me cutting you loose yet, so I guess we're stuck with each other.” He mounted his horse. “Come on. Let's head back and I'll teach you how to get even playing poker with those boys.”

A few days later, Matt sat beneath a tree while Sam held a small mirror in front of him. Matt carefully scraped the bristly beard off his chin. He'd started growing whiskers when he was fifteen. The last year or so, they'd actually started to thicken. Sam didn't even have peach fuzz yet. He wondered if the boy was as eager to have hair on his face as Matt had been.

“What do you think, Sam? Think I got enough here for a decent mustache?” Sucking his upper lip into his mouth, he studied the growth above his lip. He was actually beginning to enjoy being friends with Sam. The kid hung onto every word Matt said as though he'd invented it.

He lifted his gaze above his reflection and watched as twin spots of color appeared on Sam's cheeks. Until he'd met Sam, Matt wasn't sure that he'd ever seen a fella blush.

“What do you think?” he asked again. “Honestly now. No matter what you say, it won't hurt my feelings.”

“I think you look better without the mustache.”

Matt angled his face and returned his gaze to the mirror. “I think you're right.”

He stretched his upper lip taut and brushed some
lathered soap over it. With the straight razor, he scraped away the remaining whiskers. Wouldn't do to have any nicks tonight.

When he was finished, he looked with satisfaction at his reflection. He combed his fingers through his hair. “You did a fine job trimming my hair. Sure you don't want me to cut yours?”

“I'm sure,” Sam said hastily.

Grinning, Matt reached into his bag of supplies. He poured some Bay Rum cologne into his palm before patting it over his cheeks and chin. “Want some?” he asked Sam.

Sam shook his head. The boy actually looked frightened.

“Sam, everything will be all right tonight,” he assured him.

“I really don't want to go, Matt.”

Matt leaned forward and planted his elbows on his thighs. “Look, Sam, it's not every day that we run across a town that invites us to a barn dance. Another week or so and we're going to be at the Red River. No towns on the other side for miles and miles. A cowboy has to take his fun where he can.”

“But I feel bad about going.”

“Jake put everyone's name in a hat,” he reminded Sam. “He drew out the six who have to stay behind and herd cattle.”

“It doesn't seem fair.”

“But that's the way it's always done. The cattle come first. A cowboy knows that when he signs up. We can't leave the cows on their own. Somebody has to watch them. Drawing names out of a hat in order to determine who stays behind is the best way,” he explained patiently.

He'd already explained it once when Jake had first come into camp and announced that they had the invite. Matt couldn't understand why Sam was so opposed to going out and having a good time, especially when there were bound to be a few gals in attendance. Matt might prefer not to be friends with the men he worked with, but he had no qualms at all about becoming friends with a young lady or two.

“But I don't want to go,” Sam insisted.

“If you stay behind, one of those six men will want to go to the dance in your place. We'd have to have another drawing. I don't think that would sit well with Jake.”

In truth, he didn't think Jake would care. His only fear was that if Sam didn't go, Matt would be ordered to stay behind. He was in the mood for some dancing, and he wanted Sam to have some fun. The boy didn't seem to know much about fun. He never took a dip in the river, since he couldn't swim. He seldom played cards, because he didn't like the thought of losing any hard-earned money. He never played pranks on the other cowboys. As far as Matt could see, he was as serious as they came.

But the boy had dreams—dreams of all the things he could purchase with the money he'd earn at the end of the drive. And Matt certainly couldn't complain about how quickly the kid learned a new task. He wasn't sure if he'd ever known a fella to catch on to herding cattle with the ability that Sam did.

“Come on, Sam. Jake took two cows over to them earlier so we'll have lots of beef to eat tonight. Some farmer's wife is bound to bake an apple pie or two. You can't turn away from the chance to eat a slice of fresh apple pie. Besides, there's probably going to be several farmers' daughters in attendance. Cookie is taking his fiddle, so we'll have music and dancing. It'll be fun.”

But Sam took to studying his gloves as though he'd never seen them before. Matt had given him the gloves, and they'd practically swallowed Sam's small hands. How did a boy get such dainty-looking hands? Matt figured they were an embarrassment to him. Sam had quickly borrowed needle and thread from Cookie and taken in the seams so the gloves fit better. He wondered if Sam was even fourteen yet. He sure had a hard time believing he was anywhere close to being sixteen.

“I don't know any of these people,” Sam muttered.

“You know me. Slim, Squirrel, Jeb.” Poor Jed. His name had been pulled out of the hat. Matt had a feeling that Jake had rigged the drawing so one of the twins would have to stay behind. The last night of round-up, the boys
had a wild time pretending to be each other. “Come on, Sam, this might be our last chance to have some fun for a while.”

Sam hesitated, and Matt decided to play his final card. With a deep sigh, he sat back against the tree. “All right. You win. We won't go.”

Sam's eyes widened. “What do you mean
we?
You can go without me.”

“Nah, I can't. Jake said you have to stay as close to me as my shadow. So I figure if you don't want to go, then I need to stay behind as well so you can obey his order.” He felt a twinge of guilt when he saw the disappointment cross Sam's face. He couldn't understand Sam's reluctance to go, but he was fairly certain if he could just get Sam to the dance, he'd enjoy himself.

“Oh, all right. I'll go,” Sam said petulantly.

“You'll be glad, Sam. I promise you're gonna have the best time of your life.”

 

Sam was having the worst time of her life.

Standing within the shadows of a corner in the barn, she watched all the goings-on, trying to memorize the various aspects of the night so she could share them with Mary Margaret.

The beef, beans, and pies had tasted delicious. They'd reminded her of home and made her a trifle homesick.

The fiddle players struck up a lively tune as soon as
they finished a slower melody. Fast. Slow. Fast. Slow. As much as she tried to prevent it, her foot tapped to the beat of the music.

The people were friendly. The young ladies, much to her annoyance, were especially so.

For someone who had claimed that he didn't want to make friends, Matt sure wasn't heeding his own advice tonight. He was getting to be best friends with several of the ladies. He also seemed to be one smooth dancer.

From the moment that the music had started, he hadn't missed a single dance. Girls were batting their eyelashes at him and smiling with their lips pulled back so far that Sam wondered if they wanted to make sure he knew they possessed all their teeth.

She didn't mean to have unkind thoughts. It was just that watching all that flirting made her downright miserable. Dressed in her boy's clothing, Sam had never felt so dowdy or longed so intensely for a dress.

She hated herself for envying the girls' dresses and their long hair. Hair that flowed down their backs or was swept on top of their heads. She loathed seeing the way that Matt smiled at all the girls, as though each one was special.

His blue eyes held a magical warmth, a warmth he'd never bestowed upon her. But why would he? In his eyes, she was a boy. He had no idea that he'd begun to wander through her dreams.

The music stopped and she watched as he walked his most recent partner to the table and ladled some lemonade into a glass for her. The girl gave him a flirtatious smile. Matt flashed her a returning grin as though they were sharing something special. Sam hated watching, but she couldn't make herself look away.

What she wouldn't give for Matt to look at her like that.

“Hey, Sam,” Squirrel said as he joined her and leaned against a beam. “How come you ain't dancin'?”

Since her snipe-hunting expedition, the other hands had been more accepting of her. She supposed it was as they'd told her—a rite of passage. Something she'd needed to do in order to belong.

“Don't want to dance.” Which wasn't exactly true. She did want to dance—but she wanted to dance with Matt, and the only way that would happen would be if she revealed her secret. Her experience as a trail hand would come to an abrupt halt here and now if she did that.

“Cookie can sure make that fiddle talk, can't he?” Squirrel asked.

“Yep.”

“I like the fast dances myself. Think Matt likes the slow ones.”

“Appears so,” she said curtly.

The next tune started up. She saw the girl set her glass aside. Matt took her hand and led her back to the dance
area. Sam didn't know why she had to feel so sad. Matt was having a good time. She should be happy for him.

“The girls surely do seem to favor Matt,” Squirrel said.

They surely did. She heaved a sigh. “How long do you think we're staying here?”

“'Till Boss says it's time to go. Some widow has taken a fancy to him, though, so it might be a while.”

She wondered if she could find her way back to the herd by herself. There were no landmarks to speak of and she was unfamiliar with the area. She didn't want to risk getting lost and losing her chance to get that money.

“I'm gonna go get something else to eat. Wanna come?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Nope. But thanks, Squirrel.” She angled her head thoughtfully. “What's your real name, anyway?”

“You'll laugh.”

She grinned. “No, I won't.”

“Rupert.” He shook his head. “Don't know what my ma was thinking.”

“She was probably thinking that she loved you.”

He grinned. “Reckon. Sure you don't want to come and eat? In one of the stalls, folks is bobbin' for apples. Thought I might give that a go.”

She patted her stomach. “I'm full, but thanks for the invite.”

He wandered away. She slipped farther into the
shadowed corner and searched the dance area until she spotted Matt again.

Incredibly handsome, he held the girl as though she was a precious gift.

Listening closely, Sam allowed more than the music to seep inside her. She allowed her imagination in, giving it free rein.

She imagined she was that girl, encircled by Matt's strong arms. The flames from the lanterns flickered around her and Matt.

She was no longer dressed in britches. She was wearing a new dress, sewn from blue calico. She wasn't wearing boots. She was wearing black shoes buttoned up to her calf. And her hair wasn't curling over the top of her head. It was cascading down her back to her waist, brushed to a glistening sheen.

And Matt.

He was looking at her as though she were the only girl in the barn with whom he wanted to waltz. Their steps began to slow. In her mind, he drew her closer and lowered his mouth to hers…

The music stopped playing, and she snapped out of her reverie. With disappointment reeling through her, she watched as he walked out of the barn with his arm around the girl. She didn't want to think about what they might be doing outside.

Or how badly she wanted him to be doing it with her.

For pity's sake! What was wrong with her?

Several minutes later she saw Matt come back into the barn. The girl sashayed away from him. His hair looked as though she'd repeatedly combed her fingers through it. It hurt Sam too much to think about it.

Matt began searching the barn. Suddenly his eyes lit upon her and he strode toward her.

Her heart began pounding and her palms grew damp. He looked so incredibly handsome tonight with his clean-shaven face, his washed and neatly trimmed hair. She had done a good job cutting his hair so she knew exactly what it had felt like when that brazen hussy had run her fingers through it outside.

Like all the men, he'd bathed in the river and brought out a fresh set of clothes.

“Why are you hiding over here, Sam?” he asked.

Because she was terrified that she might do or say something that would give her away. “I'm just not comfortable here, Matt. I really want to go back to the herd.”

He shook his head. “I don't understand. Everyone is so nice.”

“Especially the girls, right?” She wished she'd bitten off her tongue before she'd said that.

He grinned broadly. “Yeah, they are. You should give talking to one of them a try.”

“So I can make a fool out of myself like you're doing?
You're going to wear out the soles of your boots with all that dancin'.”

“Sam, I don't understand what's bothering you.”

She didn't either. She only knew that she didn't like seeing him talking to, smiling at, or dancing with other girls. “Nothing is bothering me that can't be fixed by leaving.”

Matt leaned close, and his Bay Rum scent wafted around her. “There are a couple here who are real free with their kisses. You ought to take a short walk with one of them.”

“No, thanks. When I kiss someone, it's gonna be because that someone is special.” She brushed past him. She didn't want to hear about all the kisses he was bestowing upon the girls here but would never bestow upon her.

She headed out of the barn, into the night. Matt probably thought she was loco, but she hadn't wanted to come here anyway. Her first dance…her very first dance, and she was here pretending she was a boy. She was watching the young men dance with the girls, flirt with them, talk with them.

She had never experienced any of those exciting, exhilarating things. She wasn't only jealous of Matt, she was jealous of every girl who hadn't had to cut her hair or put on her brother's old clothes.