A Rancher's Pride(35)

SAM THOUGHT JUDGE BAYLOR had finished making his point.

He’d thought wrong. The man had only begun.

When he’d asked Sam to stay for a “short spell in my chambers,” Kayla had looked suspiciously at them both.

He could just see the protest on her lips, the indecision in her eyes. But, finally, she simply said she would go ahead to the market with Becky, and Sam could meet them when he was done.

Unwilling to let her hear whatever else the judge wanted to say, Sam had agreed.

Now, in chambers, Judge Baylor sat back in his swivel chair and eyed Sam up and down.

He immediately flashed back more than a decade ago to the day he’d come before the judge for the first time.

Right after the night he’d set fire to the Porters’ barn.

He tried to push the memory away and managed to do it—only to face the judge’s double-barreled glare and to hear the man putting his own thoughts into words.

“Y’know, Sam, it’s been a while since you first came into my courtroom.”

“Yeah.” And since then, the judge had never managed to see any good in him.

No surprise, since Sam hadn’t been good for much for a while after that. The judge’s warning that he’d toss him in jail and throw away the key had kicked off a rebellious streak in him that he’d never known existed.

Or maybe it had started before that….

Again, the judge voiced what Sam was thinking.

“I went easy on you back then, son, on account of your losing your daddy.” He frowned and shook his head. “Too easy, perhaps. You made life hell for your mama, you know.”

Sam nodded.

“But your daddy was a good friend of mine. I owed it to his memory—and to Sharleen—to allow you the chance to straighten up. I’m glad you took me up on it—” he glared again “—even if it was in your own good time.”

“I was…mixed-up back then, Judge.”

The man snorted. “Well, that hasn’t changed much, has it? Sam, I’m not rightly sure what’s going on between you and that young lady. But it’s not sounding to me like you two are getting along.”

“We’re managing,” he said as easily as he could, fighting not to break into a sweat again.

The judge looked doubtful. Was the man going to renege on the six weeks he’d allowed them and make his decision right now?

Had Sam lost his daughter already?

He wouldn’t go down without a fight. He wouldn’t go down at all. “We’ve been out around town today, having Becky meet a lot of the townsfolk.”

“That’s good. That’s very good.”

Sam elaborated, detailing the story of their travels. It seemed to appease the judge. His goal accomplished, Sam didn’t waste any time getting out of the courtroom.

If only his words could have that effect on other people.

On one woman in particular.

As he headed back up Signal Street toward the market, he thought again of the judge’s earlier statement. The one he’d made about people only knowing what others wanted to tell them.

And not tell them, Sam should have added.

Like the news Ronnie had never bothered to share with him.

Still, the judge’s remark had started a question that kept circling around in Sam’s brain, big and bothersome as a green-eyed horsefly.

No one knew better than he did that Ronnie couldn’t shoot straight with a story if she tried. So how could he blame Kayla for falling for her sister’s lies?



THE AFTERNOON HAD GOTTEN hotter and stickier as it went on. Kayla swept her hair off the back of her neck to cool it. From her seat on the top porch step, she watched Becky play with her friend, Pirate.

Sam had met them at the market as planned, though he didn’t say a word about his time with Judge Baylor. In fact, he’d barely said a word about anything.

Thank goodness she’d had the rental car outside the café. She would never have made it back to the ranch if she had been forced to share Sam’s pickup truck. To tell the truth, the tension between them made her want to run.

Only the knowledge that she couldn’t take Becky with her kept her from leaving town altogether.

She wasn’t going anywhere without her niece.

Once they arrived back at the house, the minute they unpacked the groceries, Sam had disappeared into his office, where Sharleen had set herself up at his desk, her foot propped on a stool, to use the computer.