Samantha's Cowboy. Marin Thomas

instead of tromping through prickly weeds in ninety-degree heat while an old granny poked the ground with a tree branch. He doubted any psychic could detect a drop of moisture in this mini dust bowl. Another gust of wind blew dirt in his face, forcing him to remove his glasses and wipe them against his shirt.

      The water witch stopped beneath a tree and stared up the trunk. “What’s wrong?” he asked, impatient to end the hoax.

      Luke peered at Wade through dusty glasses. “Millicent’s looking for a stick.”

      Wade removed his son’s glasses, cleaned them off, then handed them back. “Won’t any stick do?” he asked Samantha. The old biddy had a habit of ignoring him.

      Samantha leaned near and whispered, “A willow or peach tree switch works best for dowsing.” The scent of honeysuckle drifted up Wade’s nose, distracting him. He decided the sweet smell came from Samantha’s shampoo.

      “Is that a peach tree?” Wade curled his fingers into a fist to keep from touching Samantha’s dark hair, which glistened beneath the hot sun.

      Before Samantha had answered his question, Millicent spoke. “This here’s the one.” The granny pointed to a branch five feet above the gray bun on her head, then settled her rheumy eyes on Wade. “Don’t stand there, ya dope, climb up ’n fetch me that twig.”

      Was she nuts? Wade glanced at Samantha. The last time he’d climbed a tree he’d fallen on his ass in front of a teenage girl. This time he was a grown man. The teenager was a beautiful woman. And he’d probably land on his ass again.

      “I’ll get it,” Samantha volunteered.

      Aw, hell. He studied his leather loafers—his treadless weekend shoes—and silently cursed. “Wait.” He stepped in front of Samantha and searched the tree trunk for a foothold.

      “If I give you a shove, you’ll be able to grab that lower limb.” Samantha inched closer.

      Although he liked the idea of Samantha’s hands on his rump, with his luck her hold would slip and catch him in the nuts and he’d land at her feet curled up in a ball of misery. “I’m too heavy.”

      “What about me, Dad? I can reach the branch.”

      To Wade’s knowledge, his son had never climbed a tree in his life. “I don’t—”

      “Hoist the boy onto yer shoulders.” Millicent glared at Wade, daring him to defy her.

      “Luke’s never—”

      “Give him a chance, Wade.” Samantha grasped his arm, her gaze imploring. He appreciated that she stuck up for his son, but it was the pleading expression on Luke’s face that tore at Wade. Climbing a tree was an adventure, the kind Luke read about in books but had never experienced. “Be careful.”

      Luke’s grin went straight to Wade’s heart. “I won’t get hurt, I promise.”

      Throat tight, Wade stood aside while Samantha gave his son a crash course on the dos and don’ts of tree climbing. Then she bent at the waist and cupped her hands. Luke placed his foot in the hold and Samantha hoisted him high enough to seize a lower branch.

      “Now step on my shoulder, Luke,” she instructed.

      “Here.” Wade offered his shoulder. When Luke pulled himself onto a thick branch that held his weight, Wade released his legs. As he lowered his arms, Wade’s hand brushed Samantha’s breast and she sucked in a quiet breath. “I’m—”

      “Dad, I did it!” Luke’s shout saved Wade from an embarrassing apology.

      “Hold tight!” Out of the corner of Wade’s eye he noticed Samantha’s rosy cheeks. Darn it. The blunder had happened quickly, leaving only a sensation of softness lingering on his fingertips.

      “Git that branch to yer right.” A craggy voice ordered.

      Luke touched the limb Millicent indicated. “That’s the one, boy. Snap it off cleanlike.”

      “I can’t,” Luke complained after several attempts to break the branch.

      “Twirl it one way, then the other fer a bit.”

      “What about a different branch?” Wade raised his arms ready to catch Luke should his son lose his balance.

      “Nope. Gotta have that one.”

      Face scrunched in determination, Luke fought the branch until his glasses slipped off his nose and fell to the ground.

      Samantha scooped them up.

      Time to end the adventure. Luke was blind without his glasses. “That’s enough, son. Lean over and I’ll catch you.”

      “No, Dad. I can do this. I promise.”

      “Quit pesterin’ the boy.” Millicent glared.

      “Give him a little bit longer, Wade. He’s almost got it,” Samantha said.

      Wade wasn’t used to being ganged up on. Luke was so far out of his element not even his brilliant mind would save him if he made one wrong move. A moment later…

      “I did it!” Luke shouted, swaying sideways on the limb as he waved the switch above his head.

      “Sit still, afore ya fall on yer face.”

      Luke handed the branch to Millicent, who inspected her dowsing tool with great care, then pronounced, “This’ll do,” and walked off.

      “Roll onto your stomach and lower your legs while hanging on to the limb,” Samantha said.

      His son followed her instructions, then Wade grabbed him around the waist. “Let go.” He lowered Luke to the ground. Samantha handed over the eyeglasses and as soon as Luke put them on he tore after Millicent.

      “Guess my son’s a better tree climber than his father.” Wade smiled sheepishly. He expected at least a murmur of agreement from Samantha, not a blank stare.

      “You don’t remember, do you?” he asked.

      “Remember what?”

      “You challenged me to a tree-climbing contest at the Lazy River Ranch when you were in high school and I was in college. I fell out of the tree and broke my arm. You called me a wimp.”

      Her beautiful eyes widened, then without a word she spun and walked off.

      She really doesn’t remember me.

      Chapter Four

      Darn it. Wade refused to drop the tree-climbing incident.

      Okay. Years ago he’d fallen out of a tree and had broken his arm while visiting the Cartwright ranch. Big deal.

      Sam stomped toward the barn, the nerdy financial investor dogging her boot heels. Her memory lapse had bruised Wade’s ego, confirming her suspicion that the man hadn’t heard about her near-death experience with a horse. If she had her way, he’d remain in the dark about that period in her life. She feared if he learned she suffered lingering effects from the head trauma, he’d alert her father and attempt to put a stop to her plans for the Peterson homestead. And she for darn sure didn’t care for Wade’s pity—she’d been on the receiving end of enough sympathetic stares to last a lifetime.

      Mr. Financial Adviser exasperated and intrigued Sam. Wade was a nice change from her brother’s rodeo friends and the roughnecks who worked on her father’s oil rigs. An aura of sophistication surrounded Wade. His neatly styled hair, clean, crisp dress shirts and sexy cologne stirred her as no other man ever had.

      Good grief, Sam. Wade has a son, which means he’s married and off-limits. Besides, converting this property into a horse ranch was her first priority. There would be time later for setting her sights on a man to share her life and dreams with.

      She skirted the corner of the barn, Wade following as he swatted at a black fly buzzing his head. She swallowed