Through the haze that surrounded her, she was vaguely conscious that Bret had stretched her a little more, but she had no thought for what he was doing except that he was torturing her body and she was unable to do the same thing to him. Ida had said men’s bodies were very sensitive, but she’d failed to mention that women could be driven crazy by what a man did to them. Bret had to stop. She didn’t think she could stand any more.
Yet the feelings grew even more intense, the pressure on her body increased until she felt she couldn’t breathe. She could only lie there, writhing under the pressure of his hand, struggling to keep from crying aloud, wondering if it would ever stop, yet hoping it never would. Bret had leaned forward to place his cheek alongside hers. He was saying something in a soft, sing-song voice, but she was beyond understanding. She didn’t understand why he should be so calm while she was nearly insane.
The movement of Bret’s hand increased, and the tension shot up so rapidly she gasped. There couldn’t be more. She couldn’t stand it. She opened her mouth to scream, but the tension inside her exploded and cut off the scream as cleanly as a sharp knife. Her body shuddered violently, and she felt sensation after sensation flow through her, bringing an ecstasy she’d never known. One by one, the muscles in her body started to relax until she was able to take her first full breath in what seemed like hours. Finally, her body began to sink into the mattress.
Only then was she aware that Bret had let his robe drop to the floor. When he raised his body over her, his arousal looked larger than ever. She was sure she couldn’t contain him.
“This won’t hurt,” Bret said. “You’re ready for me.”
She was certain he was wrong. She took a deep breath, gritted her teeth, and waited for the pain.
It never came. When Bret pushed against her entrance, she was certain he would tear her apart. Instead of pain, she was only aware of gradually being filled until she could hardly believe what was happening. Bret was moving within her, and the feelings were starting all over again. She couldn’t believe this could happen twice, but it was. Only this time, Bret was being carried along with her.
As the sensations spiraled around her, they bound Bret ever closer to her until they started to merge. As their bodies moved together, their breathing fell into sync. Even their hearts beat in unison. It was better than what he’d done to her only minutes earlier because now they were together, their bodies joined in a conjugal dance that had been celebrated throughout the history of man. The oldest dance in the world, yet it had been created anew tonight just for them.
Emily had more thoughts to explore about how wonderful it was to be together as they were tonight, but she gradually lost all desire to think. She could only feel. That was more than enough.
This time she didn’t fight against it, didn’t worry about it, wasn’t afraid. Instead, she welcomed it, rushed to meet it, jubilant that she and Bret would go together. She recognized the moans, but they were no longer hers alone. She could sense when Bret approached the edge. His body grew taut, his movements more and more uneven, his breathing as jagged as her own. Then he let out a guttural moan and she felt him spill inside her.
Her own waved crested, and they floated down the other side together.
Bret lay awake a long time after Emily had gone to sleep. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed his feelings to run away with him so completely. It didn’t matter that he had made love rather than simply taken advantage of a willing woman. But he had taken advantage of Emily, and he felt like the most rotten scoundrel in Texas. It didn’t matter that he loved her and wished he could marry her. That was the excuse of someone who was weak-willed and lacking in honor. He knew how the world worked. Emily didn’t. What was more, he knew how he worked. And though he didn’t like it, he knew he couldn’t change it. The need to settle accounts was too deeply burned into his soul. Maybe he could have turned his back on Boston if his uncle hadn’t tried to take credit for his ideas. At that point, the die had been cast and his return to Boston was inevitable.
He rolled up on his elbow so he could look at her. The moonlight coming through the open window drained her complexion of color, making her look as though she were made of the purest mother of pearl. She looked so peaceful, so content—so happy. She thought she’d gained the world when she fell in love, but he was old enough to know that love was never the answer. More often than not, it was the problem.
He’d been a fool to come to Texas in the first place. He knew his uncle was hoping he’d fail, looking for a way to get rid of him. There was no other reason Silas would have subjected Joseph’s priceless person to the dangers of this wild and lawless land. Bret should have known that the daughter of two people who’d fled the confinement of Eastern society in favor of the freedom of the West would never agree to go to Boston. He should also have known that coming to Texas would remind him of what he’d given up in his pursuit of redemption. He’d traded something wonderful for an empty dream, and now he was caught in its coils. The worst part was, he’d drawn Emily into its coils as well.
He had to leave as soon as possible even though he knew there was no way he could square his departure with his conscience . . . or with Bertie. He would leave Jinx here. He would write Jake and Isabelle and hope they would honor a commitment he’d made in their name. He didn’t know what to say to Hawk and Zeke, either. They wouldn’t know he’d made love to Emily, but they knew he and Emily loved each other. They wouldn’t understand his turning his back on her and leaving. They’d come when he needed them. They wouldn’t understand how he could leave Emily when she needed him.
Unable to remain still any longer, he eased out of the bed, picked up his robe and put it on. With one last look at Emily, he tiptoed out of the room.
The silence in the house was so deep it felt ominous, as if the whole world knew what he’d done and had turned its back on him. He made his way down the dark hall slowly and with extreme care. Bumping into a single chair, table, or painting on the wall could awake people. He couldn’t think of a single explanation for his being out of bed that wouldn’t cause suspicion, raise eyebrows at the very least.
He eased open the door to his room, entered, and closed it silently behind him. Jinx was sound asleep in his cot, his arms and legs flung out, his breathing slow and even. The sleep of the innocent. How long had it been since Bret had felt innocent? Could he remember ever going to bed without bitterness in his heart?
He felt like the biggest piece of buffalo dung in the world, but the need was burned too deeply inside him. He could never give himself to anyone until he drove it out of his mind and heart. Then, if she would still have him, he would come back to Texas and see if he could build a life for them together.
Without pulling off his robe, he lay down on the bed. He’d talk to Emily tomorrow after the reading of the will. She wouldn’t be happy, but he hoped she’d understand. She might even go with him as long as she knew they’d be coming back. He wouldn’t let himself think that far ahead. One step at a time.
He didn’t sleep. By the time he heard Bertie in the kitchen and Jinx stirring on his cot, he’d worked out his plan for dealing with his uncle. For the first time since he went to Boston, he felt hopeful about the future.
Other than being a little sore, Emily had never felt better in her life. She was disappointed that Bret seemed to be in poor spirits, but she couldn’t wait for him to make love to her again. Yet she could tell it wouldn’t be as easy to convince him to do it a second time.
“If it’s okay,” Bret said when she joined him and Joseph for breakfast, “we’ll read the will as soon as we’re done eating.”
“It doesn’t matter to me when we do it,” Emily said. “I know what’s in it.”
“It doesn’t seem right that we don’t have a lawyer for the reading,” Joseph said.
“Emily will have to go to Fort Worth to deal with the legal aspects, but there’s no reason not to read it now.”
“What is a will?” Jinx asked.
<
br /> “It’s a piece of paper that says who gets Mr. Sam’s property,” Bertie said.
“Can I read it?”
“I don’t mind reading it if—” Joseph began.
“I think Mr. Nolan ought to read it,” Bertie announced with such finality everyone turned to her.
“Emily ought to read it,” Bret said. “There’s no need to stand on ceremony.”
“It’s not proper for Emily to be telling herself what she gets,” Bertie said. “Somebody else has to look at the will to make sure of what it says, so it might as well happen now.”
“Fine. Bret will read it,” Emily said. Changing the subject, she talked with Bret about which horses were ready to be returned to their owners.
“I think you ought to give up training horses,” Joseph said. “It’s not a suitable occupation for a wealthy woman.”
“I’m a rancher,” Emily said, pleased to hear herself say the words. “Nothing is more suitable than working with horses and cows.”
Joseph tried to change her mind, but breakfast ended without his having any success.
“Let’s read the will,” Emily said. “I need to get to work.”
A little while later they were all seated in her father’s office. Emily felt a pang to be here without her father sitting behind his desk. She’d always assumed she’d take over running the ranch after her father died, but falling in love with Bret had changed things. It had taken only one night spent in his arms to know that what she really wanted was to be his wife and the mother of his children. The ranch came after that.
She’d been disappointed when she woke up to find that Bret had left her bed sometime during the night. She knew it was the sensible thing to do. Though she wouldn’t have really cared, there would have been a big uproar if they’d been found together. Okay, what Bertie and Ida would have said would matter, but Emily wasn’t sure what that would be. Both women were very impressed with Bret. Bertie wanted her to marry him, but Bertie also had very clear ideas of what was right and wrong. Emily suspected she would have thought last night was wrong.
But Emily was too happy to care right now. As soon as they finished with the will, she and Bret would work with the horses. After that, she intended to spend the rest of the day with him. By nightfall, he would have agreed to marry her and stay in Texas. He had a few scruples, but she would explain them away. Their love was all that mattered. It would take care of everything.
Emily pointed to a tall, narrow cubbyhole in her father’s roll-top desk. “That’s where he keeps the will and some other papers.”
Bret pulled out a handful of papers, and Emily moved to her seat to wait for him to sort through them. Joseph was seated next to her. Bertie stood next to the door with Jinx.
Bret seemed to be taking a long time with the papers. He opened each one, cast it aside, then moved to the next one. “Do you need any help?” she asked.
“Not yet. Your father kept a lot of documents in that drawer.”
“Mr. Sam kept all his important papers in the same place,” Bertie said.
“I wish he’d put the will on top,” Bret muttered.
Going on the assumption that his father would be named administrator of Emily’s estate, Joseph was explaining what his father would do, why it would be so very helpful if Emily were in Boston. Emily was weary of the conversation and returned only half answers. She was more interested in the expression on Bret’s face. Initially, it had been confusion. He’d set a couple of papers aside and looked through the rest before picking up the first two again. He opened one and glanced through it. From his smile and nodding head, he apparently had found what he’d expected. Then he picked up the second paper and opened it. Emily was about to turn back to Joseph when she saw Bret’s expression change to shock and the color drain from his face.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Dragging his attention from the document, Bret folded both papers and stood. “I have to speak to Hawk and Zeke.”
“What business can they have with the will?” Joseph demanded.
“It won’t take long. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
“Bret, what’s wrong?” Emily asked.
“I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
Then he walked out without offering any further explanation.
“He stole the will!” Joseph exclaimed.
“Don’t be a fool,” Bertie said. “Mr. Nolan doesn’t steal.”
“Mr. Nolan beat up Lugo because he was trying to steal from me,” Jinx said.
“You don’t know him like I do,” Joseph insisted. “I could tell you things—”
“Don’t,” Emily said. “I don’t know why Bret left like that, but I’m sure he has a good reason.”
But as the minutes stretched from a few to a lot, she became impatient and began to wonder. Not that she doubted Bret’s honesty for one minute. It had to do with the second document. She’d seen her father’s will. It was a simple document on a single sheet of paper. She couldn’t imagine what the second document contained or how it could possibly affect the will, but Bret would explain it all when he came back.
When he did return, Hawk and Zeke entered the room with him.
“What are they doing here?” Joseph demanded.
“You’ll see,” Bret said.
He moved to the desk and practically dropped into the chair. He looked very unhappy. His expression didn’t change when he turned his gaze to Emily. He was deeply troubled.
“Well, get on with it,” Joseph said. “No need to keep these men from their work any longer than necessary.”
“You’re right,” Bret said. He looked down at the paper in his hand before he began to read.
The will was exactly as Emily remembered. Everything went to her after her father’s death. A simple and straightforward statement. Without looking up, Bret picked up the second document, then raised his gaze to Emily. “The day before his death, your father made a second will, changing some of the provisions of the first.”
“Why would he do that?” Joseph asked.
“If you’ll stop interrupting long enough for Mr. Nolan to read the will, you’ll find out,” Bertie said.
Emily was in a state of shock. What changes could her father have made, and why hadn’t he told her about them?
“Read the damned will, then, and get it over,” Joseph said ill-naturedly.
Bret glanced at Emily, seemed to take a deep breath, and began to read.
“ ‘When I made my will after my wife’s death, I thought that would be the only will I’d ever have to make. Having only one child, it was a simple document. Everything would go to my daughter, Emily Abercrombie, without reservation. But the situation has altered, and I find myself compelled to make significant changes.’ ”
“I don’t understand,” Joseph said. “Why would he make significant changes without discussing it with me or my father?”
“I guess because it didn’t concern you,” Bertie said.
Emily wished Bertie wasn’t so eager to cut Joseph down, but he brought it on himself with his pompous self-importance.
“ ‘The voting rights to my shares in Abbott and Abercrombie go to Bret Nolan as long as he feels he needs them.’ ”
“No!” Joseph’s exclamation was practically a scream. “The voting rights have to go to my father.”
“Let him finish,” Hawk said.
“This is a mistake,” Joseph insisted. “Bret must have told Sam lies about my father. I won’t let him get away with this.”
“Either shut up or I’ll throw you out,” Hawk ordered.
“Be quiet, Joseph,” Emily said. “I knew about that.”
“But—”
Hawk grabbed Joseph by his collar and lifted him out of his seat. In an effortless display of strength, he hauled Joseph through the door Zeke held open and pushed him out of the room. “Now you can finish,” he said when he turned back to Bret.
The pounding on the door made that impossi
ble until Zeke left the room. Joseph’s protests easily penetrated the walls before they gradually grew less distinct. Finally, they stopped altogether.
“Go on,” Bertie said to Bret, a definite twinkle in her eye.
“ ‘Bret Nolan and his brothers rendered me a significant service when they put an end to the rustling. In light of that I have asked Hawk and Zeke Maxwell to act as foremen until Bret and Emily can find someone for the job.
“ ‘I’m very unhappy that my daughter has insisted upon remaining in Texas. I have complete confidence in her ability to run the ranch. However, a single woman is not safe in Texas. In light of that, I’m giving Bret Nolan the administration of my daughter’s estate until she marries or reaches the age of twenty-five, whichever comes first.
“ ‘For Bret’s contribution, I will to him one half of the ranch with the exception of the ranch house and its contents. That and the other half of the land will remain the sole possession of my daughter.’ ”
Chapter Twenty-two
Emily couldn’t breathe. Her brain was in such a whirl she couldn’t think. “That can’t be right,” she finally managed to say. “My father would never have made those changes without telling me. That can’t be a true will.”
“Yes, it is,” Bret said. “I asked Zeke and Hawk to be here because they witnessed it. Here.” He held the document out to her. “Read it for yourself.”
Emily lurched to her feet and reached for the will. She read the short document twice, but the words never changed. She had no doubt it was genuine. The whole was written in her father’s hand. The signature was his. Below, both Zeke and Hawk had signed and dated it. That had to have been what her father was doing when he spent so much time closeted with Zeke and Hawk the day before he died.
“Did you know about this?” she asked Bret.
“Not until just now when I read that second will.”
“But you were with him after Zeke and Hawk left. He must have said something to you.”
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