Дон Жуан. Эдуард Францевич Направник

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Дон Жуан - Эдуард Францевич Направник

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to be an easy A. Instead I found something I’d been missing. I didn’t mean for it to be a career.”

      “I haven’t gone to church in ages.” Her voice was soft, a little bit lost and all kinds of hurt.

      He didn’t know what to say to that. He knew she probably had her reasons for not going to church and he didn’t want to push for answers. He’d learned a hard lesson a few years ago about dating, and found out that if two people lived on opposite sides of the faith fence, it was difficult to make a relationship work.

      They sat there a few more minutes. “Parker is your cousin?” she asked.

      “Yeah. I guess you know his parents died in a car accident?”

      “Yes, I knew. I’m sorry.”

      “Me, too. It’s going to be tough on him. And on his grandmother, my aunt Lee.”

      “But they have you. And Gus.”

      Yes, they had him. He hadn’t really planned this, coming back to Martin’s Crossing. Life was funny that way. It never really went according to plan. At least not his. At seventeen he’d planned on marrying the woman sitting next to him.

      “How is your granddad?” she asked, dragging him back to the present.

      “Slowing down, but he’s good. He’s recovered from his stroke and thinks he can still outwork me. My mom worries about him.”

      “It’s good that you can be here to help him. To help them.” Meaning his aunt and Parker.

      Her fingers momentarily closed over his, then let go.

      He hadn’t expected that. He also didn’t expect her to hop down from the tailgate and take off. He watched her go. She didn’t head for her truck. Instead she headed down the street, walking slow and easy.

      “What are you doing?” he called out to her.

      She glanced back, a finger pressed to her lips. Okay, silence, he got that. He followed her. Suddenly she was on all fours, peeking under the truck parked in front of Lefty Mueller’s woodworking shop.

      “Come here, sweetheart. Come on,” she said in a sweet tone that would have had him crawling through hot coals to get to her.

      “What...”

      She shot him a look and shook her head. Right. No talking.

      He saw what had drawn her attention. A pregnant hound dog, skin and bones but about to whelp any day. The dog whimpered, then crawled out from under the truck. Sam sat back on her heels and the dog nuzzled into her lap, all big brown eyes and long ears.

      “What are you going to do with her?”

      Sam held the hound’s soulful face in her hands. “Take her home.”

      “Duke and Jake will love that.”

      “Duke and Jake don’t have a say in the matter. I’m not going to ask their opinion on every decision I make.”

      “Or any decision,” he muttered, heading for his truck.

      “You’re leaving?” she called out, sounding like she honestly didn’t want him to go.

      He shook his head. “No, I’m getting you a lead rope for your new pet.”

      When he returned with the rope she was standing, the underfed and overly pregnant dog standing next to her. He shook his head and handed her the rope.

      “What?” She made a loop and put the rope around the dog’s neck.

      “I’m just thinking that you’re asking for trouble.”

      “She’s beautiful.” Sam brushed a hand down the dog’s head. “Maybe part bloodhound?”

      Beautiful. He had to agree. Standing there in shorts, a T-shirt and with her hair pulled back, Sam was beautiful. He let himself get tangled up in everything he’d felt years ago. But those memories would get him nowhere. He pushed his hat back and refocused his attention on the dog.

      “From the looks of that face and those ears, I’d say yes,” he agreed, reaching to let the dog sniff his hand.

      “Who would dump a pretty girl like her?”

      “Someone tired of puppies would be my guess.”

      “Then they should have gotten her fixed.”

      “I agree. I’m just giving you my opinion on why she’s been left on the side of the road.”

      “Yes, because she’s going to have puppies.” Her expression changed from angry to something close to sad, then she walked away, the dog next to her. He watched them go, wondering what that look meant and fearing deep down that he didn’t know the whole story.

      “Maybe she just got lost?”

      Back at her truck, Sam opened the door and coaxed the dog inside. “That’s a possibility.”

      “We can ask around. Someone might be missing her.”

      “Yes, I’ll do that. I’ll put a poster up at Duke’s and at the grocery store.”

      Inside the truck the dog had settled on the seat, happy to be inside. Sam fidgeted, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

      Ten years. They had become different people. They no longer knew each other. If he was honest, he’d admit they’d probably never known each other. They’d been kids. They’d both liked horses, rodeos and sitting down by the creek on a summer day.

      It hadn’t been a relationship, his mom had informed him. It had been a summer romance.

      The warm night air reminded him that it was summer once again. With that thought in mind, he had to head home, because now was the wrong time for him to get distracted.

      “Thanks for...” she started at the same time he said, “I should go.”

      “Goodbye, Rem. I’m glad we talked.”

      “Yeah, me, too.”

      She walked away from him and he watched her go. After she’d driven away, he sat on the tailgate of his truck for a while, thinking about that summer, about being seventeen and really believing he knew everything about life.

      He hadn’t had a clue. He still didn’t have a clue. But he knew that Samantha Martin was in his past. That’s where she belonged. And that’s where a wise man would leave her.

      He was smart, but he’d never been too wise.

       Chapter Three

      Samantha woke up early the next morning. She loved waking up on the ranch, to the quiet broken only by country sounds. Dogs, a cow in the distance, a tractor working in a nearby field. Carrying

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