Bo spoke first. “You decided to stop torturing the living with your interpretation of their lives and focus on the dead? Why? Are those scripts back at the bunkhouse going to be shredded?”
Jonah’s heart dropped down to his toes. They’d found his work.
“You wrote about me?” Emily pulled her hat brim low. “Me. Not Mike Moody. You made my dream of love into some huge joke. Why would you do that?”
“I didn’t mean to.” That was the truth. It hadn’t been part of his career plan.
Emily trembled. “You wrote pages and pages. You wrote a beginning, a middle and almost an end.” She jabbed her finger in the air between them. “Nobody writes that much without meaning to.”
“Agreed,” Bo said sharply.
“Let me explain.” Jonah fought the rising panic, the rising sense of guilt, the rising sense that there would be no forgiveness for this. “I write. It’s part of me. And the story of Mike Moody has been hard for me to crack. There were days when I wrote only one line.” One line of Emily-inspired dialogue or a flat location descriptor. “I needed something to write to feel better inside, to rebuild my confidence. I didn’t mean...”
Jonah stopped. The bottom of the proverbial hole he was digging collapsed. Dizzy, Jonah gripped the saddle horn and sucked in air.
He couldn’t lie, not to these two. He couldn’t say, “I didn’t mean to write scripts and sell them.” Because even though he hadn’t, when the opportunity arose, he’d put them out there, testing the market.
“You didn’t mean to write about me?” Emily was seething with anger, sitting stiffly atop her brother’s scary horse as if at any moment she’d cue him to rear up and frighten Jonah into racing away. “I don’t believe you. There was a title page, Jonah. A title page. I’m such an idiot. I thought you cared for me and I...” Her jaw worked. “It’s time to get you back home.” She rode past him.
Jonah turned to Bo.
His cousin scowled at him. “Of all the stupid things you’ve done in the course of your life, writing these two scripts has got to be the dumbest, most insensitive ever.”
“Yes.” What else could Jonah say?
“What excuse do you have?” Bo leaned forward in the saddle and Jonah got the impression that if he was within striking distance, Bo would’ve punched him. “What could you possibly say that would make me understand? You printed them out, Jonah. You printed both scripts. I know what that means.”
“Clearly, I need sensitivity training.” Jonah tried to joke, knowing full well it was inappropriate to jest. “Maybe Shane can refer me to the place he attends when he’s in Vegas.”
“It’s too soon for jokes.” Bo’s voice shook with emotion. “It may always be too soon for jokes.”
“All right. Okay. I... That script started out innocently, too.” Jonah hated that he’d hurt their feelings. “The irony of our situation last year wasn’t lost on me. And I’ve always understood situations better if I put them on paper.”
Bo nodded slowly. He knew that, too.
“But this Mike Moody script is going to be fantastic. And it’s not based on anyone I know.” The words burst out of him. It was such a relief. Shane would be ecstatic. The town festival would have their reenactment.
“I’m not interested in your stretch project.” Bo’s jaw worked. “I love Aria. I don’t care that she’s pregnant with another man’s baby. I love her and I’m leaving tomorrow to make sure she knows it.”
“Good,” Jonah said woodenly. “You and I...” Jonah swallowed. “We’ve always been close. But there’s also been this competitiveness, too. And then Aria came along and she... She looked at me. She looked at me the same way women have always looked at you.” He was drifting into sappy territory. “And I thought, wow, I can be with her.”
“You could have. You were.” Bo’s defensiveness turned to attack mode. He leaned forward in his saddle, eyes blazing.
“And when I realized I was with her for all the wrong reasons, I retreated,” Jonah said emphatically. “I wanted her to know that you were the better man.” Because he’d thought back then that she’d been perfect for Bo in a way no other woman had ever been.
“You used all your wily tricks learned from writing scripts with unexpected endings. You manipulated a woman you...loved.”
“Yes.” Jonah drew in a breath, hoping the oxygen would fuel his brain so that he’d choose the right words. He may have lost Emily, but there was still a chance for Bo, who remained by his side. “I’m sorry. That script won’t go anywhere. I promise you.”
“It’s a little late for apologies,” Bo said gruffly.
“But it’s not too late for you and Aria,” Jonah said softly.
Bo nodded stiffly and rode past him.
Jonah followed his cousin down the hill, letting Razzy choose his own pace, which was slower than that of the two big black horses. Jonah knew he still had many apologies and explanations to make. Emily would be waiting for him at the barn. She’d want to make sure Razzy was safely put away.
But it was a long ride back to the ranch.
* * *
“I DON’T WANT to talk about it.” Emily was brushing Deadly when Jonah finally entered the barn leading Razzy.
Bo was nowhere to be found. He must have told Emily he was leaving. Jonah hoped he’d let her down gently.
“I’m sorry, Em. About so much.”
“It was hurtful. You...” Emily turned, her eyes filled with tears. “You’re hurtful. I should’ve seen it before, but I thought you were clever and cranky. I didn’t imagine that you used people—real people—to steal their lives—their words—for profit.”
“I didn’t write that script to make money.”
“But you haven’t said you won’t sell it now that it’s done, have you?” Everything about her hardened—her expression, her words, her stance.
“That’s not my plan.” Why was every word he spoke coming out wrong? “What I mean is—”
“So you’d sell it.” She blinked rapidly but didn’t look away. “You’d sell me for the right price.”
“No.” He moved closer. “I’m honing my craft. Those scripts prove to people—important people—that I can write more than teenage stories.”
“You showed them to people?” Her voice cracked as she backed away from him, her face pale. “You didn’t even change our names!” She cast her gaze about, expression wavering from near tears to near disgust. “The only name you changed was yours...Joe. This is too much, Jonah. You have to know... My heart is broken.”
“I know you’re upset with me.” Jonah came forward and tried to take her hands. “Neither script will see the light of day again. I promise.”
“You promise?” Emily made a guttural sound, jerking her hands free. “What good is your word when you only speak in half-truths?” She took a step back. And then another. “My heart is broken. It’s torn in two because I fell in love with a Monroe and then he betrayed me.” Her eyes seemed luminous and her words...
Her words took a moment to sink in.
“You can’t mean...” Jonah’s breath caught in his throat. She loved him? “You couldn’t have...”
“The last thing you have a right to do is to tell me what to feel or who to love.” She darted past him. “Leave the horses. I hear Franny’s truck coming up the drive. I’ll have Davey put them away.”
Jonah stood in the barn, stunned.
Emily loves me.
On paper, they were worse for each other than he and Aria had been.
On paper, but not in his heart. The last act of Emily’s script had always felt wrong, putting her with Bo. It’d felt forced. As if she shouldn’t end up with her cowboy. And now he knew why.
I love Emily.
But since writing that awful script about falling into a creek and exposing everyone’s weaknesses, he’d never let himself w
rite his own happy ending.
But I love Emily.
And that love... It put a kink in his plans. He didn’t belong here. He couldn’t achieve his dreams in Second Chance.
I love Emily.
But the pieces of their lives didn’t fit together. He couldn’t weave them into a plot with a satisfying ending.
He may have solved the riddle of the Merciless Moody gang, but he was stumped by his love for Emily Clark, rodeo queen.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“I’M GOING TO head down to the Spring Rodeo for a few days.” Sitting at the dining room table, Emily picked at her stew. Funny thing about tears. They stole your appetite.
She sniffed, doing her best not to think about the sharp stab of betrayal. The shocked look in Jonah’s blue eyes when he realized she loved him.
Loved him. Past tense.
Listen up, eggs.
“You should be fine,” Em continued, hardening her heart to thoughts of a smart redheaded man with a broken moral compass, “now that Zeke is back. Besides, Tina needs the moral support.”
Franny stopped putting more peas on Adam’s plate.
“We’ll miss you, Aunty Em.” Adam picked up peas with his fingers.
“Can I go?” Davey perked up. “I’m done with my schoolwork for the week.”
Charlie grumbled. He was never done early with his schoolwork.
“It’s kind of sudden. This trip.” Gertie stared at Emily just as intently as Franny was. “Does this have anything to do—”
“I’m going to watch Tina compete. I’m loaning her Deadly.” Emily set her fork down and met Franny’s gaze. “If that’s okay.”
“He’s more your horse now,” Franny said carefully, drawing a deep breath.
“You’re letting a girl ride Deadly in a rodeo?” Davey’s jaw dropped. He stared at his mother. “You won’t even let me ride him on the trail and he was Dad’s horse.”
“He’s a lot of horse, Davey,” Emily said as kindly as she could. “And I’m just loaning him to Tina. She rides him well. She’ll win on him.”
Davey stabbed a chunk of meat.
“I’ll leave early in the morning.” Before Jonah got out of bed. Emily gathered her dinner dishes, wanting to retreat to her room in case Jonah came around looking for her.
“Are you starting a fire outside tonight?” Granny Gertie hadn’t stopped looking at Em since her announcement. “It’s a beautiful, clear night.”
“Not tonight.” Emily busied herself with the dishes, helping as best she could to set the kitchen to rights. And then she realized there was a finality to what she was doing. Everything in its place. Everything clean and bright. Everything done so Franny wouldn’t need to stress.
Franny wasn’t going to stress. She had Shane to lean on.
Emily left the kitchen and hurried to her room before another round of tears fell.
She found a small duffel bag and started loading it with clothes.
A short while later, Franny knocked on her door, opening it without waiting for permission. One look at Emily’s tear-stained face and she was at her side, wrapping her arms around her. “What is it? What’s wrong? Is it Jonah or Bo?”
Emily told Franny about the dreadful script. “I’m not even sure it’s dreadful. I was too shocked to know one way or the other once I saw my name on there and my words...” Lifted from real life.
“I’ll have Shane sue him or something.” Franny’s words were as angry in tone as Emily’s had been when she’d found Jonah aimlessly thrashing about the woods. Jonah was clueless about more than just another person’s feelings. “We’re not going to let him make a movie out of your life.”
“I just...” Emily’s breath hitched. “I just wish I hadn’t trusted him.” Or liked him. Or fallen in love with him. “I’m going to look for a job while I’m away.” There’d be plenty of ranchers at the rodeo, plus the stock contractor.
“Don’t rush into a decision you might regret later.” Franny squeezed her tight.
“You mean like falling in love with a man over the course of a few weeks?” Emily blew her nose. “I never should have complained about a drought of eligible men in Second Chance.”
“You’re taking a little of my heart with you.” Franny sighed. “But I understand. And Kyle would want you to be happy, whatever you decide to do.”
“It’s time, Franny. It’s past time.” Emily stood, folded a pair of jeans and tucked them into her duffel.
Franny got to her feet and wrapped her arms around her once more. “We’ll be here for you. Always.”
* * *
“I’LL GIVE YOU THIS.” Shane threw Jonah’s manuscripts on the fire at the lake camp. The pages shriveled and sent flames soaring before dying out to insubstantial ash. “You have a talent for writing a good romance.”
“Thanks.” Shane’s praise for the script based on Emily was little consolation to Jonah. He was still stunned to recognize he’d fallen in love with her. And his talent with story wasn’t going to undo the way he’d hurt her.
In fact, it was highly unlikely that Emily would ever talk to him again. Bo had left, apparently unwilling to hang around until tomorrow morning to talk. It might be another eight months before Jonah was able to heal the rift between them.
“You’ve got talent,” Shane said. “That’s why it’s hard to understand your tendency for self-destructing romantic relationships.” He stared up at the stars.
“It’s not my fault.” At Shane’s pointed glance, Jonah admitted, “It’s completely my fault.” If he’d been more self-aware of his feelings instead of self-absorbed in his quest to change the course of his career... “Unlike Emily, I never dreamed of falling in love. I’m lousy at relationships. I made a mistake prioritizing my life.” It should be Emily, Monroes, career. He knew that now. “You, of all people, Shane, can understand the pressure to earn a father’s approval.”
Shane nodded. “All the responsibility my father gave me was given with a challenge. I never knew if he’d be unhappy with me from one day to the next. Looking back now, I’m relieved to have found my own path, separate from Monroe Industries.”
“That’s exactly what I was trying to do.” Jonah placed a log over the remains of his script and settled back onto his chair. “Make a name for myself separate from Monroe Studios.”
Shane tsked. “The least you could have done was change the names to protect the innocent and avoid liability.” He poked the fire with a tree branch. “Franny asked me if Emily could sue.”
“That script is going nowhere.” Jonah gestured to the fire.
“I reassured Franny the script wouldn’t be sold. And as long as you don’t sell it, Emily has no case against you.”
“The scripts are dead to me.” And to Maury, much to his agent’s chagrin. “It’s okay. I’ve worked out the hard parts of the Merciless Moody story line. I’ve even got an idea on how to condense it so you can put on a show at your festival.” At least one part of his life was falling into place. But what did it matter without Emily in his life?
“Listen.” Shane leaned forward. “Franny and Emily don’t want anything more to do with you. You have to move out of the bunkhouse.”
The air left Jonah’s lungs in a rush.
“I can’t do that. I...” Jonah swallowed and let the words come out in a rush. “I love Emily. And I can’t just walk away without trying to win her back.”
Shane tsked. “Unfortunate word choice—win—given you and Bo were competitive over Aria and then Emily.”
Shane was right. Jonah had backed himself into a corner where every ill-chosen word was a land mine.
“Emily’s leaving for the rodeo tomorrow,” Shane went on brusquely. “She’ll be back in a few days.”
“That’s all I need,” Jonah reassured him. “Just a few days to figure out how to apologize and convince
her that I’ll never hurt her like that again.”
“My advice is to grovel, long and lovingly.” Shane stood, digging in his jacket pocket for his keys. “It’s what I did to convince Franny to marry me.”
“Grovel. Right.” Jonah might have put too much sarcasm into his words, because Shane frowned at him.
“If you love Emily the way I think you do, you won’t be so glib when your opportunity arrives.”
Which was a grim observation given Jonah was cynical to his core. With good intentions, Jonah cleared his throat and tried again. “I’ll grovel. Seriously.” Because seriously, he loved Emily.
“Better.” Shane walked away, leaving Jonah, the fire and an ash heap of regrets.
* * *
THERE WAS NOTHING like the bustle of a rodeo to distract a woman from her broken heart.
Emily relied on her decades-old rodeo queen training. She kept a smile on her face and had a kind word for all her old friends.
And if thoughts of Jonah snuck up on her and stole her breath midconversation, she faked a cough and channeled little Adam’s angelic smile.
She watched Buttercup toss a championship cowboy into the dirt in under four seconds. Her bull’s performance lifted her spirits, but only for a short time.
“He’s a rodeo distributor’s dream,” Bradley Holliday told her. “Mean as spit and with the brawn to back it up.”
“You aren’t by any chance hiring?” Emily wished she had more confidence than smile in her question.
Bradley didn’t seem to notice. “You know I already hired you two years ago, although it didn’t stick. As ever, I’d be grateful to have you on our team. Call me Monday and we’ll discuss the specifics.”
Bradley wasn’t the only one interested in hiring her. Tina’s father had spread the word that Emily was looking. She had more interested parties than she’d ever imagined.
The rodeo queen competition was fierce. Thirty women from age sixteen to twenty-one. They were all beautiful, talented horsewomen.
During the introduction lap, Tina raced around on a sparkly, prancing black horse. Deadly was hardly recognizable with all that glitter. But Tina and her smile were. She was poised and sophisticated dressed all in black.
Enchanted by the Rodeo Queen--A Clean Romance Page 22