Holding My Breath

“What do you think of these?” Sam asked me, holding up his new business cards and inspecting them in the light.  I walked around his desk and leaned against it.  He handed me one.

Samuel R. Fenton, it read.

My first thought was to laugh but I didn’t.  His expression was serious.  No one ever used their full name and middle initial here.  We were all one big family and were more likely to call each other by a nickname than anything else.  My second thought was that it was pretentious.  But in a way, that was Sam.  I didn’t know much about him, but I did know he liked to be seen in a certain way.  Whether that was for business or for everyone, I wasn’t sure yet.

“Great,” I said and handed it back to him.

He opened his wallet where he placed a few of his newly approved cards and said, “You keep it.”  I hid my satisfaction as I slipped his full name and middle initial into my back pocket.

Before he closed his wallet, I glanced at his driver’s license.  I couldn’t help it.  I wanted to know more about him.  I caught his birth date—December 12th—and mentally calculated his age.  Twenty-four.  Seven years older than me.  He folded the engraved leather closed, placed it in the pocket of his jacket and stood up.

“Big plans for the weekend?” he asked.  He gathered his paperwork, preparing to leave for the day.  It was 4:30 on Friday—my least favorite time of the week.  It meant nearly 72 hours before I’d see Sam again.  Before I’d hear his voice.

“Not really,” I said.  “I’ll probably take my horse out.  Go do something with Cassie.”  He hadn’t met Cassie yet but I talked about her often.  I had a feeling she was putting off meeting him for as long as possible so as not to encourage me.  I kept my eyes averted when I asked him what he’d be doing this weekend.  There was one detail about his home life I’d been waiting to find out, and if it came out now, I didn’t want him to see my reaction.

“Just keeping myself busy with work and trying not to worry about that phone call next week,” he said with a dry laugh.

I gave him a playful smirk.  “Don’t you ever do anything for fun?”

He grinned and my heart skipped a beat.

“I might go out with a couple of friends,” he said.  “They’ve been nagging me about getting out.  Saying I spend too much time alone.”

“You don’t…” I cleared my throat, “live with anyone?”

“Nope,” he said.  “Just me.  I left everyone back home.”

“Back home?”

“In Colorado.”

“Oh,” I said.  “Who’s everyone?”  I did my best to make my tone casual, like I was only asking out of politeness.

He sighed thoughtfully.  “Well, my parents.  My brother.  My friends.  My ex-girlfriend.”  He said the last one with a roll of the eyes.

“Oh.  I’m sorry.”  I wasn’t sorry, but I hoped it would prompt him to say more.

Sam shrugged.  “Better off.  I’d rather be alone for a while.”

There was my answer.  It wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear, but I rejoiced in knowing there was no other woman in his life.  Even if I could never date him, at least I didn’t have to hear about romantic dinners and wild nights with some perfect little blond, who click-clacked into the office to bring him lunch and make me feel like a silly teenager.

Sam never made me feel that way.

***

“You’re up early,” I heard a deep voice say from behind me.  Of course, I already knew who it was before I looked up from Moonlight’s saddle where it sat on the saddle stand, halfway through cleaning.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said to Tyler, our ranch hand.  The sunlight was beginning to creep into the stables, lighting up the space behind Tyler, turning him into a stocky shadow moving toward me in the warm morning air.  It was the first morning I hadn’t needed a sweater.

“Taking Moonlight out?” he asked, ducking into the dim light next to me and finally taking full shape.  His wide jaw was covered with his usual “cowboy stubble,” as I called it.  He slipped his baseball cap off—something he always did when greeting me—and smiled.  “Good morning,” he added.