Cathy Thacker - From Texas, With Love

Howard nodded, suddenly looking as emotional as she felt. “To Molly Weatherby,” he admitted in a low, choked voice. Blinking rapidly, he cleared his throat. “She’s a wonderful woman. I think you’ll like her, and she’s very anxious to meet you.”

Aware that Will was gauging her reaction every bit as carefully as her brother was, Samantha regained her composure with effort. “Clearly, Molly doesn’t understand our dynamic,” she said sweetly.

Will lifted his brow again. Samantha ignored the powerful censure radiating from him.

As did Howard. “Have dinner with us tomorrow,” he pressed.

And open the door to further demands she had no desire to meet? Samantha thought bitterly. She wasn’t that much of a fool. It had been a mistake coming here in the first place. She shook her head and stepped back, away from both men. “I’m leaving in the morning, come hell or high water.”

“Then we’ll make it breakfast,” Howard insisted, with the same polite do-or-die attitude that had made him such a success as an investment banker. “Please, Samantha,” he continued in a quiet tone that tugged on her heartstrings. “Do this for me.”

Samantha supposed this could provide much needed closure for both of them. “Fine. Whatever.” Her voice was as cool as she could make it. “Just so you know this is the last time you and I are going to be seeing each other.” She regarded her brother steadily. “There’ll be no more messages on my machine, no more letters, no more hunky pilots kicking down my front door to save me.”

Now Howard looked at Will with silent reproach.

He held up a hand like a traffic cop. “Long story,” he muttered.

To her surprise, Howard simply nodded.

Pulse pounding, Samantha looked around, desperate for escape. “Is there a ladies’ room handy?”

Will pointed toward a corner of the brightly lit hangar. “To the left there’s a unisex.”

“Thanks.” Head down against the warm Texas wind, Samantha hurried off.

She barely made it through the door of the concrete-floored building before bursting into tears she didn’t want and couldn’t explain.

“I’M STILL AMAZED YOU GOT her here,” Howard told Will as the two of them walked across the tarmac, following the path Samantha had taken.

So was he, if truth be told. Will thought about the sentimental tears Samantha had blinked back. He had learned a long time ago to pay more attention to what people did than what they said. It was actions, not speeches, that told the tale. He looked at the bathroom door, which was still closed, and led the way to his glass-walled office. “I don’t think there is any doubt that Samantha wants to reconcile with you,” he told his old friend kindly.

The confidence Howard had displayed in the presence of his sister faded. In its place were soul-deep regret and frustration. “Be honest, man. She hates my guts.”

“Yeah.” Will sank down in the battered chair behind his equally beat-up metal desk. “But she loves you, too, otherwise she wouldn’t have come this far.” She would have grabbed her mouse and told Will to take a flying leap back to Texas, instead of allowing him to coax her into coming.

Too wound up to sit, Howard paced across the small, square space. He paused in front of the window overlooking the runway. “My sister’s right about one thing.” He shoved his hands through his hair, then clasped the back of his neck. “I let her down.”

A veteran of all sorts of domestic difficulties, Will propped his boots on the edge of his desk. “It happens, even in the best families. It doesn’t mean you can’t make it up to her.”

Howard turned away from the view of the dark Texas sky, his expression bleak. “In the course of one reluctantly-consented-to breakfast?” he asked skeptically.

Will gestured for him to take a seat in one of the military-surplus chairs. “She’ll end up staying however long it takes.”

Howard sank down with a sigh. “She’ll never agree to that.”

Oh ye of little faith. “I’ll soften her up and keep her entertained while she’s in Laramie,” Will promised.

His friend perked up a bit. “You’d do that for me?”

“Even more.” Will grinned. “I owe you for helping me get my business off the ground.”

Feminine footsteps sounded on the concrete floor. Seconds later, Samantha strode in. She looked composed again, but her eyes were rimmed with red, as if she’d been crying. Will felt for her. He knew this had to be hard. He also knew it had to be done.

“It’s late,” she said, before either man could speak. “And I’m exhausted. If one of you could point me toward the closest hotel…”

Will and Howard exchanged uneasy looks.

“What?” she demanded.

Howard risked her wrath and informed her reluctantly, “The state agricultural extension service is holding their spring workshops here in Laramie for the next two weeks. People come from all over West Texas to attend them. All the hotel rooms for miles around are booked. But not to worry,” he assured her. “I’ve got the guest room made up.”

She should have been trapped, albeit nicely, into spending more time with the only family she had. Will had to hand it to Samantha; she didn’t miss a beat. “Thanks,” she said with a breezy smile, “but I’m staying the night with Will.”

He looked at her, making no effort to hide his surprise.

Howard frowned. “You can’t do that,” he argued.

She tilted her head to one side. “Want to bet?”

Doing his best to help his friend, Will murmured, “Your brother is right, Samantha. His place is so much nicer. You’ll be a lot more comfortable there.”

She dug in her heels. “I don’t require fancy digs. Your place is fine.”

Will decided to let her have her way—temporarily. It wouldn’t take her long to cry uncle, once she realized what she had done. “My place it is, then.”

The glint in Howard’s eyes said he had an idea what Will was up to.

Playing along, Howard turned back to his sister with a poker face. “I’ll see you in the morning at my house then,” he stated, cordial as ever.

Distracted, Samantha nodded her assent.

Once again, Howard started to hug his little sister, then decided against it and just walked out.

Will and Samantha were left facing each other.

“Let’s go, then,” she said. She slung the small carry-on bag over her arm. “Like I said, I’m exhausted.”

Curious as to what her reaction was going to be, Will gestured toward the metal stairs just outside his office door. “After you.”

Samantha blinked in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

He pointed to the closed door above them. “That’s where I live.”

SAMANTHA WOULD HAVE thought Will McCabe was joking, had it not been for the way too innocent, I’m-just-giving-you-what-you-asked-for expression on his face.

I can handle this. It’s just for one night. Then I’ll have met any last-ditch familial obligation. I can go back to New York City and get on with my life. Determined not to let Will McCabe’s shenanigans get to her, Samantha turned and headed up the stairs. He followed lazily behind, and his shoulder brushed hers when he unlocked the door and swung it open.

Samantha stared at the sparse decor.

“Not too late to change your mind,” Will told her. “I bet Howard is only a mile or so down the road by now. You can call him on his cell, ask him to double back and get you.”

Which was clearly what the two men had planned all along, Samantha thought. No wonder they had sent each other those indecipherable looks! They had to have known how shocked and dismayed she would be.

“This is fine,” she fibbed. So what if it was one large room with a cement floor and walls? Technically, it had everything she needed. A hot plate, small fridge, microwave. Television with satellite receiver. Stereo. Adjoining bath, with shower stall. She pivoted back to Will and tossed him a devil-may-care smile. “Just one question. Where are you going to sleep?”