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“Of course.” They disconnected.

Scarlet set about accomplishing all of her tasks and then drove to San Francisco International Airport.

Excitement rolled through her as she boarded a plane.

What might Sam Reed be hiding…?

SIX

“Good Lord, Sam,” Reva Travers said as she pressed a hand to her chest. “That saddle looks better than brand-new.”

Sam Reed hoisted the restored saddle from the bed of his truck and carried it past Reva and into her heated tack room as she followed him in. He slung his latest project onto the only vacant stand and then stepped back, propping his hands on his waist.

He said, “Took a little more work than I’d initially thought, but once I got started it became an all-or-nothing sort of deal.”

“It sparkles brighter than ever before.” She reached for the large red satin bow sitting on a bench and settled it in the seat. “Layton will be so thrilled.”

“He deserves this,” Sam said of her son, who’d be turning fifteen over the weekend. “He’s put huge effort into improving his jumping these past few years and he’s got a shot at nationals.”

“And not only is he finally tall enough to ride his father’s horse, but he’ll be sitting high in that beautiful saddle that Hank loved so much.” Tears pooled in her eyes. “It was passed down from his great-grandfather. Now Layton can truly carry on the Travers family tradition.”


Hank was a good man,” Sam said in a quiet voice as he gently placed a hand on Reva’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“I know.” She gazed up at him with watery brown eyes. Reva Travers was a pretty brunette who looked like she’d grown up on the Girl Scouts, the 4-H Club, and the advent of the organic veggie movement. And she had. “Been a rough time for Layton lately, especially with Hank’s illness incapacitating him for so long. But this will be a highlight after the dark times. Means a lot to him, Sam.”

She got a bit choked up. Tried to cover it with a casual laugh as she swiped at her cheek with the sleeve of her sweater.

Sam’s gut twisted. Though he told her in an even voice, “We’ll get back to training after Layton’s birthday. He needs plenty of time on his daddy’s horse before the competition season starts.”

“It’ll help him to have something to focus on following the funeral.”

“I agree. Now I have to get back to the ranch.”

“Be careful. Couple of hours from now, the snow’s going to be fallin’ heavy.”

Reva’s house in Whitefish was about an hour away from Reed Ranch, south through Lakeside. Sam said, “I’ll be in good shape before the storm really hits.” He gave her a grin. “But I’ll be back for Layton’s party on Sunday night, I promise.”

“He’d be so disappointed if you weren’t there, He looks up to you, Sam. More so now than ever.”

“I’m damn fond of him, too.” Sam gave her a quick, friendly hug, then turned to go.

“Wait,” Reva said. “Let me get my checkbook.”

Sam glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t you dare. This is something I wanted to do. It was a great idea you had, Reva. I’m happy to have been a part of it.”

“Sam.” She frowned. “I know you have the equestrian facilities and your furniture making to occupy your time. This project took up even more hours.”

“I enjoyed this, Reva. I started fixing up old saddles when I moved here, and I’m getting the hang of it.”

“You’ve done more than that; trust me.” She gave him a grateful smile. “At least take the apple pie I made for you.”

“Well, you know I’ll never pass that up.” He winked good-naturedly.

She hurried over to the extra refrigerator in the tack room and extracted a pink box with a white satin ribbon up each side and tied into a bow on top. She always did her pies up right.

Handing over the box, along with a small bag from the freezer, Reva said, “There’s also a container of vanilla ice cream and some cinnamon.”


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