Chapter 13
WESTON
We have been sitting by the lake for almost an hour and Samantha and I have barely spoken. I’m completely embarrassed about what happened on the horse. I was so consumed with my flirting that I barely noticed myself growing hard against her. There’s no way she missed that. Now, she’s not speaking to me. Eric has kept her occupied, chatting her ear off about whatever comes to his mind - school, his friends, our trip to New York. A few times, I think he’s going to tell her about why we went on our trip, but each time, he skirts over it. It’s a relief. I guess I’ll tell Samantha eventually about Cheryl if she sticks around. But now, I’m more certain than ever that it won’t happen, so I guess I shouldn’t even be worried about it.
I can’t figure out why I haven’t told her already. It’s becoming clearer and clearer to me now that I’m attracted to Samantha. So why haven’t I made it more obvious that I’m available? Why haven’t I asserted some kind of dominance and dived in, the way I would have done before I met Cheryl?
I know the answer, deep down. I know I’m not ready to let go of Cheryl. I’m not sure I ever will be. How could I ever consider building something meaningful with another woman when Cheryl is still clinging to my heart? I glance over at Samantha. She’s laughing at something that Eric said, her whole face lit up in happiness. That’s a woman I could care for. I’d never treat her like a one-night stand – but am I ready to give someone my whole heart again? When I look at her, I can imagine a future we might have together, if I could just let go.
But I can’t. It’s impossible.
It’s getting dark now, and I know we should be heading back before Madeline gets worried. But what happens when we get back? Will Samantha leave again, without me getting a chance to make things okay? I only have a short amount of time to persuade her to stay. I stand up and walk over to my son and Samantha, my heart beating a million miles a minute. I clear my throat, trying to seem confident, pretending the moment on the horse didn’t happen.
“We should go back...Madeline will have dinner ready. Would you like to stay? To eat with us?”
To my surprise, Samantha flashes me one of her shy smiles. “I’d love to. Madeline mentioned trying out her jam at supper time…”
I breathe a sigh of relief. This is my chance. “Well, if you’re staying for dinner, then we might as well crack open the whiskey too...the spare bedroom is yours if you want it. You can drive back in the morning...or whenever.”
I curse myself silently. I’m pushing my luck here. But Samantha doesn’t seem fazed. In fact, she’s the happiest I’ve seen her all day.
“I’m so glad you asked. I’d love that.”
Eric seems to have worn himself out, and he’s more obedient than usual when I tell him to get back on his horse. Peanut Butter is a little more energetic, trotting around impatiently as I help Samantha back on top of Cherry. As I settle behind her, I feel a little nervous about getting up close and personal, but this time, Samantha doesn’t seem to want to shy away. She presses into me with a new found confidence.
“Thank you for today,” she says gently. “You guys have made it worth coming on this holiday.”
“You’re welcome,” I reply, setting Cherry off at a trot. “We’re always around if you have nothing to do…”
Samantha clears her throat. “Well...I did wonder if maybe you’d like to come on a hike with me tomorrow? You know the area better than I do...and I don’t want a repeat of the other night...I think you’d be a great tour guide.”
My heart is racing. Should I accept? Or should I keep clinging to my fears and reservations, putting off every opportunity just because it scares me?
“I think that sounds great,” I say after a few moments. I feel Samantha relax against me.
“Great. Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is perfect.”
Samantha nods and we lapse into a comfortable silence. As we head back to the ranch, I’m almost trembling with anticipation. Hours alone, just me and Samantha...it sounds almost too good to be true. But the closer to the ranch I get, the more guilt sets in. How can I be thinking of another woman, so shortly after the anniversary of Cheryl’s death? What is wrong with me?
One thing is for sure - if I’m doing this, no one needs to know I’m going. Especially not Madeline. I would never hear the end of it. I will allow myself to indulge in this time with Samantha for a while, but after she’s gone, that’s it. I can return to my solitude and forget that this whole experience ever happened. Even though this is the happiest I’ve been in years.
***
I persuade Eric to get an early night, but Madeline sticks around after dinner, cracking open a pot of her new jams and cutting thick slices of bloomer bread for us to enjoy. I usually like Madeline’s company - the conversation is always lively with her around - but tonight, all I can think of is the moment she will leave. With all her talk of Samantha and me having a romance, she sure knows how to get in the way of one. She talks for hours, telling Samantha stories about Eric and me, from her first day working for me to Eric dropping some Lego bricks in her apple pie last week. The only stone left unturned, of course, is my marriage with Cheryl. I keep expecting her to bring it up, but I should know by now that as much as Madeline isn’t subtle, she can be tactful if she needs to be. I know she’s got my back on this one.
It’s closing on midnight when Madeline finally decides to go home. She packs up her jam and continues her chatter all the way to the door. By the time I close the door behind her and let out a large sigh, I’m pretty exhausted. Samantha giggles at me.
“She talks a lot, doesn’t she?”
“God, yes...I thought she’d never leave!”
Samantha smiles, leaning against the wall. Now that she’s been around a while, she exudes confidence. She even looks a little flirtatious now - or am I imagining it?
“Still on for that glass of whiskey?” she asks. I smile back.
“Absolutely.”
We head to the kitchen together and I take two tumblers out of the cupboard. Samantha opens up the bottle and pours two glasses, breathing in the smell.
“It smells like home,” she tells me. “My dad loves whiskey. It was something he always saved for a special occasion. Any time we were celebrating a birthday, or Christmas, or when I got a new job, he’d crack open a bottle. I can see him now, sitting in his favorite armchair with a huge smile on his face and a glass of whiskey in his hand.” She tuts to herself, picking up one of the glasses. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You don’t want to know about my dad.”
“And why not?” I ask. “Family’s important like you’ve said before. Besides. I like listening to you talk.”
Samantha’s cheeks redden. “That’s really sweet.” She sips her whiskey without flinching. “I guess I’ve always been one of those people whose voice gets lost in a crowd, you know? The one that tries to speak in a group but there’s always someone who talks louder over me. My friend, Ashley...she’s always so confident, so sure of herself. She’s always got something to say, and people listen when she opens her mouth. I guess I’m not really used to people listening to me.” She pauses. “Actually, that’s unfair. Colin always listened to me.”
“Your fiancé?”
Samantha nods. “I know it’s ridiculous to praise him for that, after what he did to me...but you know when people say that their partner is their best friend? I honestly felt like that with him. I could talk to him about anything and everything. We had all the same friends, so we had the same gossip to share. We had a lot of the same interests, so we never got bored of one another’s hobbies and quirks. For a long time, I thought we wanted the same things too.” Samantha chuckles sadly, staring into the bottom of her glass. “I guess the problem was that we had too much in common - in particular, our interest in men.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or to comfort her. But when Samantha starts laughing, it’s kind of infectious. I find myself joining her, my stomach hurting from laughing so hard. I haven’t laughed like this in so long, and it feels better than I could ever imagine. Samantha wipes a tear from her eye with a final chuckle.
“Ah, man. It feels good to laugh about it.”
I try for a sympathetic smile, though I’m still chuckling to myself. “You miss him, huh?”
Samantha cradles her glass in her hands, her hip rested against the kitchen counter. “I do miss him. But since he’s been gone...I think I’ve realized that while I was happy, he clearly wasn’t. Next time I’m with someone, I want them to be all in. I want them to love me fully, for better or for worse.” Samantha looks up at me with watery eyes. “Have you ever felt that way about someone? Has anyone ever made you that happy?”
The question catches me off guard. How am I meant to tell the woman I’m crushing on how Cheryl made me feel? How she meant everything and more to me? I take a deep breath, sipping my whiskey.
“There was someone,” I tell her. I open my mouth to continue, but no words come out. I wasn’t prepared for this kind of conversation. She pats my arm, sensing my discomfort.
“It’s okay,” she tells me, rubbing my arm. “You don’t need to talk about it. But you can relate?”
I nod. Samantha sighs.
“Love sucks, sometimes.”
“I know,” I say quietly. “But maybe it doesn’t have to.”
Samantha’s eyes meet mine and a shiver runs down my spine. Those eyes are enchanting. Each time I look at them, I see new colors. Those brown orbs are flecked with gold, I swear. I want to kiss her, but I know the second I do, I risk destroying everything we’ve built up so far. The moment ends when Samantha tugs away from my gaze, sipping more of her whiskey.
“Anyway, he’s not coming back. I guess I’m getting used to that now. But it’s our friendship I miss the most. Such a deep connection’s rare, right? You don’t find that often. It’s like a personality soulmate.”
“I guess so...but they say opposites attract, too. You don’t have to be similar to a person to get on with them well.”
“I think it helps.”
“Maybe...but it doesn’t always have to be that way.” I guess I’m grasping at straws, here. I’m trying to communicate to her somehow that despite our differences, we could be a good match. Samantha and Weston, Weston and Sam...we sound good together. Or is that just because I want us to sound good together?
Why am I chasing this down so hard, though? It’s not like we’re destined to get some crazy happily ever after. She doesn’t belong here. She’s a city girl through and through. She’s proved that while she’s been here. She’ll leave at the end of the week and that’ll be it. I need to stop thinking differently. Besides, I’ve known her a day. Why do I even care?
“I guess no relationship is ever the same,” Samantha says. “I’m just curious what makes a relationship last for good. Clearly, no matter how perfect Colin seemed, he wasn’t the one. So how do you improve on what you thought was perfection?”
“You don’t,” I say. “You settle.”
“That’s kind of depressing.”
We watch each other with sad eyes. Is she thinking the same as me? That we’ve both had our taste of perfection, and whatever comes next will never be as good? I don’t want to believe that I could be right, but I fear that we’ve reached a peak in our lives. Reached a point of love that can never be topped.
And yet, somehow, I’m hoping that Samantha can prove me wrong.
“Cheers,” she says to me, raising her glass. “To new love.”
I clink my glass to hers and drink. We drain our glasses together. I reach for the bottle of whiskey, unscrewing the cap.
“Another?”
She smiles. “Another.”