Gracie’s features tightened, then went deliberately blank. “You don’t know me, Emma. Not anymore. And just so you know? Everything else is fine. Just stop expecting me to be happy to have you home.”
“You didn’t want me leaving and now you don’t want me here.” Emma shook her head, then tossed her hair back behind her shoulders. “What the hell do you want?”
For just a split second, something flashed in Gracie’s eyes, but it was gone an instant later. Emma had the distinct feeling she’d almost reached the real Gracie. The little sister she’d missed for so long.
“Nothing,” Gracie said. “Look. I only came out here to tell you your daughter woke up. She’s crying.”
Emma drew her head back as if she’d been slapped. “And you couldn’t pick her up?”
For a second, her sister’s eyes shone with shame, but it didn’t last long. Defiant, she lifted her chin. “I’m not your babysitter, Em. And neither is Dad.”
Emma gave her a hard look. “I didn’t say you were. And Dad takes care of her because he wants to. I haven’t heard him complain about Molly.”
“Of course not.” Gracie took a breath and lifted one hand to push her hair back from her face. “He’d never say anything to you. You think he wants to risk you leaving again?”
“I told you. And him. I’m not leaving.”
“And we should believe you,” Gracie said wryly, quirking a brow.
“Damn it, Gracie, is it going to be like this between us all the time now?”
“I don’t know. If it is, will you leave?”
“No.”
“We’ll see, won’t we,” Gracie said, then turned away before Emma could speak. The anger and hurt in her sister’s eyes was impossible to miss.
“Wow. Welcome home, Emma.”
“Right. I’ll get the balloons.” Gracie turned on her heel, then looked back over her shoulder. “By the way, the vet’s coming over later. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave us alone.”
She was gone before Emma could respond and maybe it was just as well. These “conversations” with Gracie were exhausting and sort of circular. No matter which direction they went, it eventually returned to you left us. And there was no argument to that because Emma had left her old life behind to try for something else. Something she’d dreamed of doing since she was a kid. No one seemed to understand that and for the millionth time, Emma found herself wishing her mom were still alive. Maggie Williams would have understood.
Emma fumed for another minute or two. Just long enough to make sure she wouldn’t have to walk alongside Gracie back to the house. She’d had no idea when she left Montana that she would completely shatter the relationship she had with her sister. Emma was five years older than her sister and so she’d always looked after Gracie—especially since their mother died when Gracie was fourteen. And now it felt as if they were armed camps on opposite sides of a battle.
She blew out a breath, finished organizing the shelves and then swept the floor, focusing the burning energy inside toward getting something in her life straightened out. Coming home was turning into a big-scale drama. Her father was deteriorating, her sister was furious and her old boyfriend could barely stand to look at her. If she’d had the energy, Emma might have thrown herself a little pity party. But since she didn’t, she headed for the house and the baby girl who needed her instead.
Molly was nearly five months old and her personality was, thank God, happy. The tiny girl welcomed everyone with a toothless smile and only cried when she was hungry or wet. You just couldn’t ask for much more than that. Having Molly in her life had been a surprise, but Emma was determined to protect that baby girl. To give Molly the kind of life she’d had, growing up.
Which was the main reason she was back in Montana taking a mountain of crap from everyone.
She found her father and Molly in the living room. The baby was on his lap, laughing as Frank made silly faces. Was it her imagination, or did her dad look better today than he had when she’d arrived just a few days before? His eyes were brighter, his hair was combed and he’d shaved. All good signs that Gracie hadn’t bothered to mention. Plus, her little sister had made it sound as if Frank was aggrieved at taking care of the baby but it looked to Emma as if he was having a great time.
Gracie and she were going to have to have a long talk. Soon.
“Dad?”
He turned to grin at her. “Hello, honey, what’re you up to?”
“Oh, I was just...” She waved one hand toward the outside. “Straightening out the tack room.”
He chuckled. “You always did have your mother’s neat streak.”
Emma walked up to him and sat down on the chair closest to him. “Gracie told me Buck quit.”
He frowned. “He did, but couldn’t blame him any. He’s older than I am and damned if I’m out working the ranch every day.”
The baby slapped both of her little hands on top of his and then played with his fingers.
“Got to remember to watch my language now, don’t I?” He grinned down at Molly. “This little darling reminds me so much of you at her age.”
Emma felt a tiny pang that she refused to identify or acknowledge. “Does she?”
“Always happy, always looking for the next thing...” His smile faded a bit, but his eyes were still shining. “I’m glad to have you home, Emma, and that’s the truth.”
She leaned forward, reached out and squeezed his hand briefly. “I’m glad somebody is.” She blew out a breath in frustration. “Gracie sneers at me every time we pass by each other.”
He laughed. “Well, Gracie’s just put out. She’s done her best these last five years, but she doesn’t have your confidence. Never has. So she doubts everything she does.”
Emma didn’t like the sound of that. “Well, she shouldn’t. She’s always seemed so sure of herself to me. Even in school, she went her own way no matter what anyone else had to say.”
“All true,” he mused. “But at the heart of it, she questions herself.”
“She hates me now.” Emma picked at a fraying thread on the arm of the couch.
Frank laughed again. “No, she doesn’t. She’s just afraid to enjoy having you back. Probably thinking you’re not going to stay.”
Gracie wouldn’t be worried about that in the slightest if she knew what had been a huge motivating factor in driving Emma home in the first place. Oh, she had been planning on coming back to Montana, but she’d pushed her schedule up fast for one reason only. But that wasn’t something she could talk about. Not even with her family.
Watching her, Frank asked quietly, “Is she right? Are you just stopping by for a visit before you take off again?”
She couldn’t blame her father for the question. When she left, Emma had had big plans. She’d done her best, and put everything she had into making those plans a reality. None of it had worked out and by the end of her time in California she had been wondering why she’d ever left Montana in the first place. Now she’d come home to build different dreams. And this time, she would succeed.
But it wasn’t only her family and her home that had pulled her back to Montana. It was Caden. The cowboy she’d left behind. The man who could set her body ablaze with a look. The man who starred in her dreams nightly. The man she’d never been able to forget—not that she’d really tried.
“No, Dad,” she said, leaning forward to lay her hand on his forearm. She wanted him to see her resolve. To feel that she was really back for good. Her gaze locked with his and she willed him to believe her. “Molly and I are home to stay.”
He studied her for a long moment or two, then pleasure shone on his face. “Relieved to hear that, Em,” he said. “Don’t think I could stand watching you leave again and taking this little nugget with you.”
“You don’t have to worry,” she assured him.
“And Mo
lly’s daddy?” Frank asked, sliding her a glance. “What’s he have to say about all of this? Doesn’t he mind you bringing his daughter to Montana?”
Emma went completely still, then forced her mouth to curve slightly. Molly’s father wasn’t someone she could talk about. This was dangerous territory. She hated lying to her own father, but there were some things she couldn’t tell him. At least not now.
“Molly’s father isn’t involved with her at all, Dad. He doesn’t know where we are and that’s the way I hope it stays.”
“Did he hurt you?” Instantly, her affable, loving dad went into grizzly mode.
Emma’s heart swelled, relishing the feeling of being loved so fiercely. She actually didn’t need protection, but it was lovely to have it offered so freely. And she was grateful that she could at least tell him the truth about this.
“No. He didn’t.” She got up, kissed his forehead and said, “Nothing like that. I swear.”
“All right, then.” He stroked one hand down Molly’s silky black hair. “As long as you two are here and safe. That’s all that’s important.”
“Just how I feel.” And as long as Molly was safe, Emma could deal with just about anything. Then her father spoke up and tested that thought.
“Caden called me this morning.”
Her gaze snapped to his. Warily, she asked, “What did he want?”
“Oh, just to tell me he was going to send some of his men over to mow the meadow behind the barn.”
Frowning, Emma thought about that. Every year, they mowed the meadow, to protect it. The fallen grasses acted as mulch and the clipped-off seedpods planted themselves for the following spring. But since when did her ex take care of that?
“Why?” She straightened up and looked down at her father in disbelief. “First his men come and paint our fence. Now they’re mowing our meadow?”
“Well,” Frank mused, barely hiding the curve of his lips, “let’s think about that. Could be, it’s just him being neighborly. Could be, he’s trying to impress you.”
A choked-off laugh shot from her throat as she remembered clearly the look on his face when he’d murmured, Absolutely nothing. “No, it’s not that, trust me.”
“Seem awful sure.”
“You didn’t see him when he was here.” She stalked over to the fireplace and idly noted that it had been turned into a gas hearth sometime while she was gone. Easier, probably. But she’d always loved the hiss and snap of real flames over real wood.
“No, but I saw him after you left for California.”
She closed her eyes briefly, then looked back over her shoulder at her father. “I know I hurt him.”
“Crushed him, more like.”
Guilt reared up and took a bite of her heart. She knew her father was right. She’d known it then. It hadn’t stopped her because she hadn’t allowed it to. If she’d let herself acknowledge what she was doing to Caden—heck, to herself—by leaving, she might not have gone. And if she’d stayed, she’d still be wondering. Still be dreaming. Maybe Hollywood wasn’t for her, but at least now, she knew that for herself. Still, she admitted silently, maybe she could have handled it better. “I had to go, Dad.”
“I know that,” Frank said, giving her an understanding smile. “Didn’t make it any easier to lose you. I know why you had to leave, too. You think I didn’t realize what your mother gave up to marry me and have our family?” He shook his head and sighed. “She had dreams, too, Emma, and she died not knowing if they could have come true. That still tears at me.”
Emma instantly felt guilty for the pain she saw in her father’s eyes. “Oh, Dad, Mom loved you. Loved us.”
He snorted. “Hell, I know that. Doesn’t mean a part of her wasn’t wishing that she’d gone to Nashville and tried her hand at singing professionally.” Frank smoothed the baby’s hair and wistfully said, “That’s why I was glad you tried, honey. As bad as it was with you gone, I was glad you were trying.”
Tears stung her eyes and Emma blinked them back. At least her dad was glad to have her home. In the quiet, the baby cooed and gurgled in Frank’s arms. Outside the windows, the October sky was leaden and a hard gust shook the turning leaves on the trees. A week ago, she’d been in Southern California, where the only sign of fall was the pumpkin spice lattes for sale on every corner. Here in Montana, the wind was cold, the trees golden and red and you could smell winter in the air.
It was good to be back. But, since she was here to stay, she would have to have a talk with Caden.
Absolutely nothing.
His voice repeated in Emma’s mind again and she scowled to herself. Coming home was never going to be easy. She hadn’t expected it to be. And she’d known that facing Caden again would be one of the hardest things she’d ever done, but she hadn’t realized how hard it would be to not touch him. To not be touched by him. Seeing him again, hearing his voice had brought everything inside her back to life—only to be slapped down by his dismissal. She’d thought she was ready to see him again. Apparently, she’d been wrong.
“Things’ll get better,” her father said and she turned around to face him. He shifted the baby in his arms so that little Molly was looking directly at her. Emma’s heart squeezed in her chest. That tiny girl had become all-important and there was simply nothing she wouldn’t do to protect her. Bringing her here had assured that Molly would be cared for. Loved. It was up to Emma to see that she stayed that way.
“You’ll find your path, and you brought my granddaughter home, too,” Frank was saying and Emma’s heart gave another hard lurch. “Your sister will get past what she’s feeling. You two will work it out.”
Emma wasn’t so sure, but all right.
“As for me, though,” Frank said, pushing up out of his chair and cradling Molly against his chest, “I couldn’t be happier. Now I’m going to go give our girl here some lunch—”
“Dad,” she said, remembering some of what Gracie had said just a while ago, “I didn’t bring the baby here expecting you to babysit.”
Insult stamped itself on his features. “Spending time with my granddaughter isn’t ‘babysitting,’” he told her. “Besides, makes me remember when my own girls were little. Your mother and I were hopping every minute.”
A soft smile curved her mouth. “I still miss her.”
“So do I, darling. Every damn day.” Frank sighed a little, then grinned when Molly slapped her hands together. “She’d have loved this little one. So don’t you worry about me and Molly. We’re fine. You go and do something useful.”
Something useful. Was talking to Caden a waste of time? Or a chance to set them both on a different path?
She watched her father walk away and thought about it. She could go back and finish cleaning out the tack room. Or she could go over the ranch books and see exactly where they stood financially. Or maybe go and talk to the cowboys and hear their opinions.
But she wasn’t going to do any of that, Emma realized.
“Dad?”
He stopped and looked back at her, waiting.
Decision made, she said, “If it’s okay with you, I’m going over to Caden’s. Maybe settle a few things.”
Her father winked. “That’s a good idea, honey. You go ahead. Take your time.”
When he left, Emma walked across the room and grabbed her heavy brown jacket off the coat tree in the hall. Take her time. That was assuming that Caden would speak to her at all. But even as she considered that, she remembered that she’d always been able to talk her way around that stubborn cowboy. Today would be no different.
They would get everything out in the open and find a way to deal with each other. Or, she considered, this would blow up in her face and she’d be no further along than she was right now.
Pulling her coat on, Emma stepped out onto the wide porch. There was a lot to do around here and she’d barely made a dent in
any of it in the past few days.
But facing Caden was more important. All of the work would still be here waiting for her when she got back, she reminded herself. Digging her car keys out of her jacket pocket, she headed for the old and cranky SUV that had brought her and Molly all the way from Los Angeles.
She climbed in, fired it up and threw it into gear. Out by the stable, she saw Gracie talking to a woman with long, braided red hair and a face full of freckles. Must be the vet, she thought, then waved when Gracie turned to fire a glare at her. If her sister was mad, she only had herself to blame. She’d actually told Emma to stay away. So she would.
Turning the car around, she headed down the drive to the road that would take her to Caden’s house. They were going to talk, damn it. And she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
Dirt and gravel flew up in her wake like the tail of a dragon and she barely noticed Gracie, standing in the yard, staring after her.
Three
Caden helped load the mare into a fancy horse trailer big enough for four horses. His buyer’s teenage daughter was thrilled to be getting her own horse and he was pleased to have another satisfied customer.
Once the mare was inside and the back was closed, Caden walked to the front, opened the door and stepped inside. The mare tossed her pretty head when he entered and he had to smile.
“Yeah, you’re a beauty and I’m sorry to lose you,” he whispered, running his hands up and down her long, elegant neck. “But that girl out there is going to love you like crazy and spoil you even more than I do.”
He stroked the star-shaped blaze on her forehead and just for a moment, allowed himself to remember the night this mare was born. Eight years ago. He and Emma had stayed up all night with Star’s mother, talking, comforting, and they had been there when Star was born. Emma had been the one to name her and they’d planned to have Star be the first of a herd of beauties they would breed and build together.
Then they’d celebrated by making love in the loft above the stable.
God, he could still feel the heat, the magic of touching her, of being inside her, of having Emma’s hands on his body.
Red Hot Rancher Page 3