a slight shift of the reins, horse and rider came to a stop. The dog, sensing home, bounded off in the direction of the house. Angela held her breath as Sam turned in the saddle and looked directly at her. On horseback he was an imposing figure, and he had a direct way of looking at a person that was intimidating. She wasn’t comfortable being one hundred percent of his focus, but she made herself meet his gaze. He looked far too good for comfort in his jeans, boots and dark Stetson, and she took her sunglasses out of her hair and put them on, shading her eyes.
The horse Sam rode was big and black, and the way he tossed his head made his bridle hardware jingle. He was exactly the kind of mount she’d expect Sam Diamond to ride—big and bossy and used to having his way. But Angela refused to be intimidated.
When she didn’t answer, he grinned. “Let’s try that again, shall we? Good mornin’, Ms. Beck. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
There was a mocking note to his words and Angela felt his gaze drop over her clothing and back up again. She’d considered changing out of her paint-streaked overalls and sneakers but decided not to. She felt safer in the shapeless garment rather than her work clothes that skimmed her figure more closely. Besides, the scale of work that had to be done was enormous. Fixing herself up would have taken valuable time she couldn’t afford to lose.
“I need your help.”
There, she’d said it, and it only hurt a little. Mostly in her pride.
“My help? My, my. That must have been hard to say.”
“Yes. I mean no. You see … I had counted on your mother’s help and without it I’ve fallen behind. I know it couldn’t be helped,” she rushed to add. “I don’t blame Molly. She belongs with your father, of course. I’ve tried for the last week and a half to keep pace on my own, but we’ve got a press opportunity happening this Saturday and I’m not ready.”
“As you can see, I’ve got my hands full here.”
“Surely you can spare some time? I’ve been doing the renovations myself but there are some things I’m just not equipped to do. The front step is a hazard and the furniture needs to be moved into the living room before Saturday and somehow I have to have refreshments on hand for a dozen teenagers who will be at the house. Not to mention the press.”
She was quite breathless at the end and felt a blush infuse her cheeks as Sam merely raised one eyebrow until it disappeared from view beneath his hat.
“Come to the house. I’ll write you a check and you can hire some help for a few days.”
Her blood began to simmer. For most people she would have said put your money where your mouth is. But for Sam, writing a check was an easy way to rid himself of the inconvenience of her and of Butterfly House. Her annoyance temporarily overrode her personal discomfort.
“You don’t understand. This isn’t just about slapping on some paint. It’s about perception.”
“Perception?”
“Yes, perception.” She sighed. “It’s not even so much the renovations. When you replaced Molly on the board, the press releases had already been sent and the arrangements made. You’re the foundation’s biggest sponsor, Sam. And everyone expects to see a Diamond presence this weekend. If there’s no one there …”
“If it’s perception you’re worried about, I’m not sure I’m the image you want to present to the public. You’ll do fine without me.”
He laughed, but Angela wasn’t amused. This project was about more than helping women reclaim their lives. It was about changing attitudes. And Sam Diamond, with his money and swagger, was the perfect test case. If she could bring him around, she figured she could accomplish just about anything.
“I won’t say no to the check because the foundation needs it. But we need more than that, too. We need a showing of support. We need the backing of the community. I don’t like it any more than you do. I wish I didn’t need your help. But I sat on the step this morning trying to figure out how I was going to manage it all and I kept coming up blank.”
“Maybe I can spare a man for a day or two, but that’s all. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
But that wasn’t all. How easy was it for Sam to solve a problem by scrawling a dollar amount and washing his hands of it? “All I’m asking for is one day. One day for you to show up, be charming, give a visible show of support. As much as it pains me to admit it, the people of Cadence Creek follow your lead.”
He rolled his eyes. “Here we go again. You don’t give up, do you? Do you ever take no for an answer?”
She gritted her teeth. If he only knew how much she hated confrontation! She lifted her chin. “Do you?”
A magpie chattered, breaking the angry silence. “From the look of the house, it needs more than a slap of paint. It needs a demolition order. You’ll never get it fixed by Saturday.” Sam adjusted the reins as his horse danced, impatient at being forced to stand.
Angela got close enough that she had to tilt her head to look up at Sam. She wanted him to see what was at stake. It wasn’t enough for him to sit atop his ivory tower of privilege—or his trusty steed—and bestow his beneficence. It was too easy. And the women she wanted to help hadn’t had it easy. Their lives couldn’t be fixed by a blank check.
“I have to. The house has been neglected, that’s all. It just needs some TLC.”
“Ms. Beck.” He sighed, looking down at her from beneath his hat. “Do you want me to do everything for you?”
She felt her cheeks heat. “Of course not. But, for example, I was going to look after the painting and minor renovations while your mother lent a hand with some of the aesthetic needs—like window fashions, linens. On Saturday she was not only going to represent your family to the community and press, but she was in charge of all the refreshments. That’s all fallen to me now. I do need to sleep sometime, Sam. And then there’s the issue of what to say to people on Saturday when they ask about our biggest sponsor and their conspicuous absence.”
“You tell them we’re busy running a ranch. You tell them we’re occupied with adding a new green facility to our operation. Or that we’re busy employing a number of the town residents. All true, by the way.”
“Have you heard of volunteering, Mr. Diamond?”
His dark eyes widened as his brows went up. “I beg your pardon?”
“Volunteering—offering one’s time with no expectation of reimbursement.”
“I know what volunteering is,” he replied, impatience saturating each word.
“Millions of people volunteer every day and still manage to work their day jobs. Most of them also have families of their own—and you don’t have a wife or children that I can see. You can spare Butterfly House the cash, but can you spare it the time?”
Angela swallowed, took a breath, and stepped forward, grabbing the reins of his horse with far more confidence than she felt. She stood in front of the stallion’s withers, her body only inches away from Sam’s denim-clad leg as it lengthened into the stirrup. “What are you so afraid of, Sam?”
He slid out of the saddle and snatched the reins from her hands,
