Samantha Forster rolled out of her tangled sheets with a groan, tugging on her jeans and boots.
Pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail and throwing on a sweatshirt, she tiredly headed outside.
The crisp morning air stung her cheeks as she shuffled to the barn, yawning. An impatient neigh greeted her as she grabbed the grooming brushes and headed for Ace's stall.
"Morning to you too, Ace."
Sam began grooming Ace, talking to him all the while.
"I'm sure glad it's a Saturday, huh Ace? I wish I didn't have to get up this early
though."
Finishing with her work, she stroked his forelock and kissed his nose.
"See you later, boy."
Sam turned around, then dropped the bucket with a shriek.
"Jake Ely, stop sneaking up on me!"
He stood there, the perfect cowboy with his jeans and dusty boots, his Stetson casting a shadow over his dark eyes.
Jake smiled lazily at her, bumping up the brim of his hat up so that he could see her better.
"Mornin' to you too, Brat."
Sam shot him a glare, picking up the bucket with a sniff.
"No it is not, Jacob," she shot back over her shoulder as she hung the bucket on its peg.
Sam heard him chuckle to himself as he grabbed a pitchfork and began cleaning out stalls with her.
They worked in silence for a while, then Sam set her pitchfork down with a sigh.
"You may as well come in for breakfast," she grumbled.
"Sure thing, Brat. Gimme a minute."
Sam walked back up the walk to the house. What is Jake up to?
She was greeted with the smell of bacon and eggs frying as she walked in the front door. Gram must be up.
Sure enough, as soon as Sam entered the kitchen, there was Gram, cooking away.
"Morning, Gram."
"Good morning, Samantha. Jake coming in?" Gram asked, wiping her hands on her flowery apron.
"Yeah."
As if he heard them talking, Sam heard Jake's spurs jingling and the door open and close as he came in.
"Morning, ma'am."
"Good morning, Jake. You hungry?"
"As a horse."
"Good, eat up."
Sam slumped at the table, picking at her food.
"Sam, is something wrong?" Gram asked. "You seem kind of off today."
"I just have a little cold, Gram. Nothing to worry about."
Sam noticed Jake giving her a sideways glance, but when she looked at him he returned his eyes to his food.
"Really, Jake. I'm fine. What were you doing out there in the barn?" Sam asked, changing the subject.
"I was saddlin' Ace. Witch is already ready to go."
Sam slipped her dishes into the sink, shooting Jake a curious look.
"Are we going for a ride?"
"Sorta. Your dad wants us to mend the fence."
Sam groaned inwardly. There was nothing a rancher hated more than mending fence.
Jake stood up, settling his Stetson on his head.
"Dress warm, Brat, it's cold out there."
Sam didn't deign to answer, pulling on her sheepskin jacket and plunking her Stetson on her head.
"Let's go."
On their way out, Sam grabbed the pliers and her gloves, shoving them into the saddlebag.
She swung up onto Ace, and Jake followed close behind her on Witch.
After a few minutes of silent riding, they reached a broken section of the fence.
"Here we go," Sam sighed, reaching into her saddlebag for her gloves.
"Jake. My gloves aren't in here. I must have dropped them on the way here."
Jake glared at her, then sighed and shoved his at her.
"Here."
Sam tried to give them back.
"No, you wear them-"
"Put 'em on, Samantha."
Sam put them on reluctantly, grabbing the pliers.
"You'll hurt your hands!"
Jake re-settled his Stetson on his head, moving toward the fence.
"Better me than you."
After twenty minutes of repairing the barbed wire fence, Jake's hands were raw and bloody.
Sam flinched as she glanced at them, but Jake's jaw was clenched in that stubborn way that made Sam know that she'd never get him to put on the gloves.
Finally, she threw down the pliers, stripped off the gloves, and dropped them.
Jake gave her an exasperated look.
"Sam-"
"Jake, I just want to take care of your hands. I'll wear the stupid gloves, ok?"
He rolled his eyes, dutifully presenting his hands for her examination.
Sam grabbed her canteen of water, pouring some gingerly over the raw scrapes.
Jake kept his eyes glued to his boots as she dabbed the blood away with a piece of cloth.
As Sam bound his hands carefully with some strips of cloth, Jake's eyes flickered up to meet hers for a split second before dropping to the ground again.
"I'm sorry if this hurts," Sam commented.
As she tied the final strip, she bent down and picked up the gloves and pliers as Jake tested his hands.
Satisfied, he dropped his arms to his sides.
"Thanks."
Sam grinned at him.
"You sound surprised. Should I be insulted at your lack of faith in my medical skills?"
He grinned back, relaxing.
"Yeah. Come on, let's finish up here."
When they were done, Sam packed up their tools and swung up on Ace. She saw Jake looking at Witch helplessly, as he couldn't maneuver her reins very well with his hurt hands.
Sam giggled quietly at his helplessness. She knew he hated this and would never ask for help.
Sam chuckled again, teasing Jake lightly.
"Aw, does the big strong cowboy need help catching his horse?"
He glared at her in irritation, defying her to help him as he grabbed the reins.
Swinging up onto Witch's back, he kicked her into a canter, with Sam following.
When they reached the ranch, Jake would have just headed for home, but Sam shook her head, motioning toward the house.
"I don't think so, Gram has to look at your hands."
Jake sighed, resettled his Stetson on his head, and reluctantly followed her into the house.
Sam banged the door shut behind them, hanging her jacket on the peg.
"Gram, Jake hurt his hands!" she yelled, grabbing the medical kit.
Gram bustled into the kitchen, tutting when she saw the bloodstained bandages.
Jake, for once completely obedient, sat down and let Gram tend his hands while Sam ran upstairs to change.
When she came back down, she grabbed an apple and took a bite, asking, "So how bad of a job did I do?"
Jake was about to answer when Gram beat him to it.
"Not too bad at all, Sam. If you would have left it, it might have gotten infected."
Jake rolled his eyes at Sam and she had to stifle a chuckle.
"Well, what next, Gram?"
Just then, Wyatt clumped into the kitchen.
"Morning Sam. Jake."
Jake nodded at him, touching the brim of his hat with a heavily bandaged hand.
"What happened to your hands, Jake?" Wyatt asked, sitting down and grabbing an apple as well.
"Sam forgot her gloves mendin' fence, so I gave her mine."
Wyatt shot Sam a glance, leaning back in his seat.
"Did you, now?"
Sam threw her apple core away, sighing.
"Yes, sir."
"Do you realize that Jake, or you for that matter, could have hurt yourselves badly?"
"Yes, sir," Sam answered miserably.
"Good. As punishment for your carelessness, you are confined to the ranch for the rest of the day."
Sam bristled with indignation, but she kept her mouth shut.
"Yes, sir."
She could tell that Jake was regretting telling Wyatt, and he shot her an apologetic glance as she headed up the stairs.
Too late for that, She thought grumpily.
Sam quickly changed into sweatpants and a hoodie and ran back downstairs.
She sat on the couch with a sigh, pulling out a book and settling in.
Gram called from the kitchen, "Sam, what do you want for your dinner on Wednesday?"
Sam paused to think, baffled.
Oh. Wednesday's January 21, my birthday.
"Um, I don't know yet, Gram. I'll think about it," she hollered back.
With the hustle and bustle of the New Year coming and going, Sam had almost forgotten her fifteenth birthday.
The phone rang, and Sam heard Gram answering it on the fourth ring.
"Hello? Oh, hi Jen…yes, just a minute. Sam!"
"Got it!" Sam yelled, picking up the receiver. "Hey, Jen."
"Hey! What's going on?" Jen's voice greeted her.
"Not much."
"Cool. Hey, you want to go for a ride with me?"
Sam closed her book with a snap, and stood up with a groan.
"Can't, sorry. Grounded."
Jen gasped. "What for?"
"Dropped my gloves mending fence and Jake hurt his hands."
"That's dumb," Jen said bluntly, and Sam had to stifle a giggle. "How did Jake
end up hurting his hands anyway?"
Sam sighed. "Oh, he was being all protective and brotherly again and made me wear his gloves."
Sam could practically see the smirk on Jen's face as she replied. "Maybe that'll teach him, being all overprotective."
Sam shook her head.
"Speak of the devil, here he comes now."
Jake's spurs chimed as he talked quietly with Gram in the kitchen before coming into the living room.
"Hang on, Jen," Sam said, covering the mouthpiece of the phone.
"Hey, Jake."
"Brat." Jake shifted his weight uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Uh, how long are you grounded for?"
"Just today." Sam looked at him for a while, watching his cheeks get darker and darker.
Finally taking pity, she spoke up. "Staying for dinner?"
Jake shook his head in relief, shrugging on his jacket.
"Nah. Mom wants me home, we're going to town."
"Oh?" Sam grinned. "What for?"
Jake's embarrassment returned as he rubbed the back of his neck.
"Stuff. Don't get nosy, Brat."
Without another word, he tugged at his hat sarcastically and left.
Sam returned the phone to her ear to hear Jen, who had heard the whole conversation, giggling uncontrollably.
"Haha, oh Sam, I could just see him standing there without a clue!"
Sam found herself laughing too, imagining what Jen was seeing.
"Yep. Cowboy through and through! Just imagine what he'll be like when he's an adult!"
Jen sobered up, commenting, "Well, that won't be too long now, will it? When's his birthday?"
"October first, I think," Sam answered absently. "Mine's Wednesday."
"What, you think I don't know that?"
Sam laughed at the indignation in her voice. "Well, I only remembered this afternoon!"
"Yeah, well, that's you!"
"Jennifer!"
"Samantha!"
Sam laughed and yawned.
"Well, Jen, I guess I'd better go. Big week coming up, and I do want to get some sleep."
"Good luck, we'll probably all be woken up around three tomorrow by a frost or something."
Sam said her goodbyes, and hung up the phone. Standing up with a groan, she headed for her room.
Sam sat bolt upright a few hours after she went to sleep, drenched in cold sweat, her eyes wide. She panicked for a moment before she realized that it had been a dream, and nothing had really happened to the Phantom.
Slumping back against her headboard with dizzying relief, Sam wiped the moisture from her brow.
There goes the rest of the night's sleep.