invest fifty thousand in Richland for renovation purposes plus an advertising campaign that will bring you in some of the biggest clients in the world. You give me four months of your time and I’ll make sure Richland becomes a center for Grand Prix hopefuls on both sides of the Atlantic.”
She stared in shock at him. Fifty thousand…what she could do with that money! It would enable her to buy another hot-walker to cool out her charges after their demanding morning runs, another groom to help in the more mundane duties around the barn and—it was too good to turn down.
“Look,” she began unevenly, “the offer is wonderful, and to tell you the truth, it would help Richland.” She lifted her lashes, meeting his steady gaze, her heart beating painfully in her breast. “Sam, I’m not a show rider. Oh, sure, I can ride. But I’m not a Grand Prix rider. I have no experience…no—”
“Who told you that?” he demanded quietly. “You train world-class hunters and jumpers and you stand here and tell me with such incredible humbleness that you can’t ride them?” Disbelief flared in his gray eyes.
Dany chewed on her lower lip, evading his extraordinary eyes. She could lose herself in their pewter color. “I’d rather not discuss it.”
He sat back, a quizzical expression written on his features. The seconds strung tautly between them. He watched her silently for a moment. “You ever seen Altair?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Hell, I’ll change the deal. You fly back with me and take a look at him. If he doesn’t sell you on staying at the Cross Bar-U and riding him in shows, then I’ll let you come back East. Deal?” He held out his large hand toward her.
Danielle’s lips parted, and she stared down at his hand. She could come back to Virginia if she didn’t like the horse. “You’d release me from the contract if I’m not impressed with Altair?” she hedged carefully. “And still put the fifty thousand into the stable?”
Sam nodded his head. “That’s right, Danielle. Now, we got a deal?”
She slipped her hand into the warmth of his. “Deal,” she murmured.
Sam reluctantly released his hold and leaned back, smiling boyishly. “Welcome to the Sierras, Danielle. You’re going to love it there.”
Two
“Martha,” Sam thundered as he walked into the main foyer of the ranch house, “we’re home.”
Dany stole a look around at his so-called ranch house. It was a magnificent two-story castle, reminding her of the grand haciendas of the Spanish dons in California during the eighteenth century. The red tile floor gleamed dully beneath their feet, and the halls were made of dark rough wood, accentuating the definite masculinity of the interior. She followed Sam down the hall, and he led her into a sitting room. Everywhere she looked she noticed oil paintings of family members. It was obvious from the rich furnishings and age of the ranch that it had all been handed down for at least a century, coming finally to the man who now stood before her.
“She must be in the kitchen, Danielle. Sit down and rest. I’ll be right back.”
“I think I’ll stand, Sam. I need some exercise to shake off the tiredness.”
He nodded, putting down two of her suitcases. “We’ll remedy that very shortly. I hope you’re ready to see the best eventing hunter in the U.S.”
She had to smile at his unabashed enthusiasm. “Whenever you are,” she assured him. She wanted to add that it didn’t matter, having made up her mind to decline training Altair. Tomorrow morning she would leave for Virginia. As lovely and rugged as the drive to the ranch was, it contrasted startlingly with the gentleness inherent in Virginia woodland. Even though tall redwoods and spruce towered over the small, winding highway leading up to the Cross Bar-U and the fragrance of pine refreshed her senses, the snowcapped mountains looked like giant predators surrounding her. Where could she possibly ride a horse in those jagged peaks?
Martha came flying around the corner, her skirt rustling, a wooden spoon in one hand and a ball of bread dough in the other. She was a short plump woman, reminiscent of a pigeon. She stared across the room at Dany. “Oh, lordy!” she exclaimed, her applelike cheeks glowing pink from the heat of the kitchen. “Where’s Sam! Oh, you must be Mrs. Daguerre. I didn’t expect you for another hour!” She frowned, turning on her heel. “Sam! Where are you? I swear, you’re worse than a little boy. Spring’n surprises on me like this. Wait till I—”
Dany put her hand over her mouth to suppress a smile as Sam wandered back into the room. Martha couldn’t be more than five feet tall, and Sam towered over her like a redwood in comparison. The housekeeper waved her wooden spoon threateningly up at him. “Sam Reese, if you were twenty-five years younger, I’d take you across my knee, boy! The very idea of coming an hour early!” she scolded.
Sam took off his hat, grinning contentedly, a twinkle in his eyes as he glanced over at Dany. “This is Martha. She’s been with our family all of her life. She more or less runs the household, and me,” he added drolly. “I think the last time I got hit with her wooden spoon was when I was ten years old.”
Martha belligerently placed her hand on her hip. “And it isn’t like you didn’t have it coming, Sam Reese.”
Dany laughed heartily, wiping the tears from her eyes, watching the two of them stand there self-consciously. “I had no idea Sam was such a rambunctious youngster.”
Martha glared back up at her full-grown charge. “He still is. He still is. Listen, Sam, you take Mrs.—”
“Please, call me Dany,” she offered.
Sam raised one eyebrow speculatively. “Dany? Nice nickname,” he complimented her huskily.
“Most of my friends know me as Dany,” she explained. “Or, you can call me Danielle, Martha. Whichever is easiest. I’ll answer to just about anything.”
Martha dipped her head. “Just don’t answer late for dinner, Dany. I only ring that bell once!”
“Believe me,” she assured the feisty housekeeper, barely able to contain a smile, “I won’t. I don’t want to get whacked with a spoon.”
Martha blushed furiously. “Oh, I’d never do that!” She waved it up in Sam’s general direction. “He knows I’m just like an old hunting dog with no teeth left. All bark and no bite.”
“Most of the time,” Sam kidded. He held out his hand toward Dany. “Martha will make sure the boys bring in your gear. Come on, I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
When Sam Reese said a suite of rooms, he meant exactly that. The ranch house was large, but because of the homey atmosphere and earthiness of colors throughout it, it seemed smaller and more intimate to her. Sam opened a door on the second floor, urging her in. She stood inside the room, her eyes widening in appreciation. He halted at her shoulder, watching her expression with a look of pleasure in his eyes.
“Well, do you think this will do? Over here you have a full bath including a whirlpool.” He looked down at her. “That’s for times when you bite the dust and you’re sore.”
She laughed. “Are you trying to tell me that
