Дон Жуан. Эдуард Францевич Направник

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      He gave her a tight hug, then headed around the back of the building where he’d parked his truck. Samantha watched him go, then took off running down the sidewalk. She headed down Main Street to the intersection. Ahead of her the Community Church was dark and quiet, bathed only in the orange glow of streetlights. The park was equally dark. She kept running, breathing in deep and letting go of the tenseness that had built up during the long day.

      She loved working with children. She wouldn’t change jobs for anything. But watching those children in pain was tough. She’d tried but couldn’t leave her work behind at the end of the day. Parker, Danny and the others, they were in her heart. She knew that the longer she remained in this job, the more she’d have to cry about.

      She ran several miles, keeping to the few side streets that made up Martin’s Crossing. As she turned back up Main Street, she saw a truck had parked next to hers. She slowed her steps, going from a run to a jog and then a walk.

      The driver of the truck got out. Even on the dimly lit street, she knew him. She knew the way he stood. She knew the way he pushed that white cowboy hat back. He shouldn’t be so familiar to her. But he was.

      “What are you doing here?” she asked as she leaned over to touch her toes. When she straightened, he was leaning against the side of his truck, watching her.

      “I would have gone running with you if you’d called,” he said.

      She looked him over. Jeans, cowboy hat, boots. Her heart did a little flip she had to ignore. “Really?”

      “I would have changed.”

      She lifted one shoulder. “I like to run alone.”

      That was what had changed about her in the years since she’d been sent away. She’d gotten used to being alone. She’d gone from the girl at the center of the crowd to a woman who knew how to be independent.

      “Of course.” He sat on the tailgate of his truck. “I was driving through town and I saw you running. I didn’t like the idea of leaving you here alone.”

      “I’m a big girl. No one needs to protect me or rescue me.”

      The words slipped out and she wished she’d kept quiet. Not that he would understand what she meant. He wouldn’t guess that she’d waited for him to rescue her from her aunt Mavis, believing he’d show up and take her away. She’d thought they would be a family.

      But he hadn’t rescued her. There hadn’t been a letter or a phone call. Not once in all of those years had she ever heard from him.

      That summer she’d learned an important lesson about love. Remington had said he loved her. Her brothers had said they loved her and that’s why they’d sent her away. Her mom should have loved her. She’d left when Samantha was little more than a baby.

      Now it was all just water under the bridge.

      “Sam?” The quiet, husky voice broke into her thoughts.

      So much for letting go of the tension. She faced the man who had broken her fifteen-year-old heart.

      “Remington, I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to talk about what happened. I don’t want to figure out the past. I’m building a future for myself. I have a job I love. I have a home, my family and a life I’m reclaiming. Don’t make this about what happened before, because I don’t want to go back.”

      He held up his hands in surrender. “I know. I promise, I’m here to talk about the future. Sit down, please.”

      She paced a few steps away from him, then faced him again. “I don’t want to sit.”

      “Stubborn as always.” He grinned as he said it, his teeth flashing white in his suntanned face.

      “Not stubborn. I just don’t want to sit down.”

      “I’m sorry they sent you away,” he spoke quietly. In the distance coyotes howled and a train whistle echoed in the night. His words were soft, shifting things inside her that she didn’t want shifted. Like the walls she’d built up around her.

      “Me, too.” She rubbed her hands down her suddenly chilled arms. “I wasn’t prepared to see you today.”

      She opened her mouth to tell him more, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Not tonight. There was more to tell him. She’d tried to write him a letter. More than once she’d sat down with pen and paper and tried to tell him everything that had happened. At sixteen she hadn’t found the right words. At seventeen she’d wanted to put it all behind her. As she got older, she’d convinced herself he didn’t need to know.

      Maybe Aunt Mavis had been right. They’d been kids ten years ago. What did two kids know about love and forever? It had been a learning experience. A mistake.

      “We should talk.”

      She gave up and sat down next to him on the metal tailgate. “Rem, I’m just not ready for this. I know I’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with what happened, but I’m just not ready to talk it all out with you yet.”

      “I’m sorry. I always thought eventually we’d run into each other here in Martin’s Crossing. It took longer than I expected.”

      She pulled one leg up, resting her chin on her knee. “I always looked for you. When I came home for breaks, I’d drive by Gus’s, thinking you might be there.”

      “I looked for you, too. Now it seems as if we’re both back in town for good.”

      She looked up, surprised. “For good? You’re staying here?”

      In the light of the street lamp she saw the twinkle in his eyes. “Gus needs my help on the ranch. And now Parker and his grandmother are moving in.”

      “So you’re moving here?”

      “I’m going to pastor the Countryside Church and run the ranch.”

      “I see.” But she didn’t. It was all well and good to see him at the hospital with a horse named John Wayne. She’d never expected him back in Martin’s Crossing. Back in her life.

      * * *

      Remington let the silence linger around them. He guessed they both had their memories of that summer. From his point of view, he’d been a kid who’d fallen hard for a pretty girl. They’d been young and they’d gone too far too fast. He’d faced the wrath of Jake and Duke Martin. They’d run him off the ranch and out of her life, letting him know he wasn’t welcome on Martin land, or near their sister. Gus had sent him back home to his folks, and their ranch near Austin, where his mom told him to learn from his mistakes.

      Samantha Martin. Sitting next to her now on the tailgate, he felt the past coming at him like a steam train. Her arm brushed against his, her soft scent tangled with the breeze and attempted to drive him crazy.

      Common sense told him not to go back down that road. He remembered all too well how it had felt to be sent packing. As an adult he doubted her brothers would be his problem. No, if he had any intentions of pursuing her, she’d be the one sending him away.

      “Pastor Jenkins?” СКАЧАТЬ