Overprotective Cowboy: A Mulbury Boys Novel (Hope Eternal Ranch Romance Book 2)

by Elana Johnson

  She drew in a breath, and though the air wasn’t cold at all, it felt like it froze her lungs together. As she lived a simple life on a ranch, she couldn’t even imagine some of the more evil things in the world.

  Yes, she’d dated a student’s father. He’d turned out to be Robert Knight, the son of Gustus Knight, who ran a variety of illegal activities in the southern pocket of Texas. She’d grown up in a middle-class neighborhood and then gone to college in Laredo. Those had been two different worlds, but she’d enjoyed them both.

  She hadn’t met Rob until she’d come to the Coastal Bend, and she wished powerfully with everything she had in that moment that she’d never met him. That his son had not been in her second-grade class. That she’d had the power and intestinal fortitude to resist him.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered to the sky. Since that fateful relationship, Emma had been working toward forgiving herself. She could only hope and pray the Lord would do the same—and Missy too, one day.

  Sighing, she turned back to the house at the same time she heard the rumble of an engine. She twisted back toward the trees and the lane she’d been gazing at, but she held very still so as not to disturb any gravel. Not even a blade of grass.

  On the other side of the trees, headlights cut through the thickening darkness, but she could barely see them. With spring here, the trees had started to leaf out, and they concealed whatever vehicle was there.

  The headlights stopped—which meant the car or truck they were attached to had as well—the light shining across the road on the other side of the bridge. Someone was on that utility road.

  Someone had probably just gotten turned around. Emma knew people turned off here all the time when they meant to go down another half-mile to Half-Moon Bay Drive, where a popular Farmer’s Market took place every weekend.

  Still, an alarm sounded in her head.

  Number one, it wasn’t the weekend.

  Number two, it was almost eight o’clock at night. No Farmer’s Market. No reason to be on that road.

  Number three, she’d been standing at the fence for at least ten minutes, and she would’ve seen and heard anyone who’d made the turn by accident. They wouldn’t have gone down that road, waited ten minutes, and then turned around.

  As much as she wanted to know who was there, she also wanted to rush to safety. That instinct won out, and she hurried across the lawn to the garage—all three of which were open—and up the steps. She practically smacked the buttons that would close up the garage for the night, and as the six doors closed—one on each side, for all three garages—she ducked inside.

  The door clicked closed behind her, and she locked it. Then turned the deadbolt. Ginger usually went around and locked up the West Wing when she came in, but Emma knew she was back already. She’d invited Nate for dinner.

  Their voices filtered back to her in the hallway, and Emma pressed against the rising desperation in her throat. With shaking fingers, she walked into the kitchen to find Ginger and Nate still sitting at the bar together.

  “Hey,” she said, slipping easily into her façade. She’d gotten very good at hiding things over the years, and she was proud of herself for it at the same time she loathed herself. “Horses are fed.”

  “Great, thanks,” Ginger said with a smile.

  “I’m going to go shower,” Emma said. “I feel hot and sweaty.”

  “Welcome to another summer.” Ginger smiled and sighed, and Emma stepped around the counter to give her a quick hug. She hated lying to her best friend, but she reasoned that the fib today had been small. She wasn’t hot, but cold. The shower was meant to warm her up and remind her that she was still alive.

  She was sweaty, and the chilly, clammy feeling in her soul was not pleasant. She also didn’t know what else to do to drive it away. So she stood in the shower for a long time, watching the water flow down the drain and wishing she could just as easily get rid of the uncertainty of her life, and the record of her past.

  Emma left the West Wing the next morning about twenty minutes later than normal. Ahead of her on the wide path, a man walked with four dogs at his side. It wasn’t hard to know who that was, and Emma actually smiled at Ted’s back.

  He’d charmed those canines in a single day. He probably had them all named by now too, and they seemed to know they’d found the one person who wanted to take care of them. Every once in a while, one would veer off to sniff something in the grass, and Ted would whistle, and the dog would come running to catch up to him.

  He led them like the Pied Piper toward the stables, his step easy and light. Emma wondered how that would feel. She hadn’t felt light since the day she’d found out she was pregnant.

  She wanted to ask him what life was like in prison, and she wondered if he could walk like that now, because this life was so much better than where he’d come from. Nate had said very little about life in prison, at least to her. Ginger probably knew more.

  Emma increased her pace, but unless she ran, she would not catch Ted before he reached the stables. She couldn’t think of a reason why she’d need to be running, so she simply watched him stroll through the morning light.

  One of his dogs suddenly sprinted away, and Ted’s step faltered until he’d stopped. He watched the dog, and Emma tracked him too. He’d seen Ursula, who was coming down the road alongside the ATV that Nick drove. He must’ve been out in the fields that morning, checking their irrigation system. Emma knew it had been having problems, because Nick wanted money to fix it.

  Emma had directed him to Hannah, because again, she did the global ranch finances, and only she would know if they had money for a global thing like that.

  Ursula barked, and she trotted toward Ted and his troop of dogs with the one who’d gone to greet her. Ted’s deep voice said something as he crouched down to love on Ursula, and Emma actually felt a rush of jealousy. For a dog.

  But Ted had his hands on her, and he spoke to the dog in a kind, loving tone. Emma came up behind him, and he turned to look at her. “Good morning,” she said. “I see you’ve found your pack.”

  He grinned at her and said, “Morning.” He looked back at Ursula. “She’s a real pretty dog. German shepherd. What’s her name?”

  “How do you know she has one?”

  “She doesn’t live outside with the other dogs,” he said. “My guess is she belongs to Ginger, which means she has a name.” He looked up at Emma expectantly, and with his dark eyes so open and so eager to know, Emma found him boyishly charming.

  “Ursula,” she said. “What did you name your other dogs?”

  “One is Simon,” he said. “Randy, Paula, and Ryan.”

  Emma looked at him while she absorbed the names. She giggled and shook her head. “I see where you’re going with this. Let me guess…you only got to watch American Idol in prison.”

  Ted chuckled and shook his head, finally abandoning his administrations to Ursula so he could stand. “No, but my mother loved the show. I’d call her every week, and she’d spend at least half of our time updating me on the show, the contestants, and most of all—the judges.” He looked off into the distance, a happy glint in his eyes. “My mother sure did love the original judges. Simon was her favorite.”

  “Ah, so that’s why you arrived at Simon yesterday.”

  “Yeah.” Ted started walking again, and Emma fell into step beside him. “You going to the stables to feed your babies?”

  “Yes, sir,” she said. “How did you like your morning yesterday? Get along all right with Jess and the other horses?”

  Ted tipped his head back and laughed. The sound poured out of him and added to the beauty of the morning sky. Emma just kept her eyes on the ground, though a new measure of warmth filled her from top to bottom in less than a second.

  “She’s kind of protective of those horses, isn’t she?” Ted asked.

  “Jess is great,” Emma said. “But yes, she loves those horses as if they were her own flesh and blood.”

  “I liked
it,” Ted said. “I don’t know what I’m doing, but I don’t think I messed up too badly. No equines died.” He chuckled again and glanced at her.

  Emma met his eye, and something strange and powerful and wonderful tethered them together. She knew what it was—attraction and desire, the finding of a kindred spirit—but she hadn’t felt it for a long, long time.

  “How do you like the ranch?” she asked.

  “The ranch is great,” he said.

  “What do you like most about it?”

  “Like most?” Ted seemed to really think about her question. “Well, I have my own bedroom. That’s a nice change. I can shower for as long as I want.” He reached up and ran his hand down the side of his face. “I can leave the house whenever I want, and there’s no razor wire here, and I can grow a beard.”

  “It looks good,” Emma said, realizing too late what she’d given away. But her mind was still hung up on not being able to leave a house when she wanted to. What a simple freedom she didn’t want to take for granted.

  But Ted just asked, “You think so? It’s been so long since I’ve been able to let it grow, that I’m not really sure how to deal with it.” He scratched his face. “It itches.”

  “You’ve got to put this beard oil on it,” she said. “Spencer knows all about that. You should ask him.”

  “Beard oil,” Ted said as if he had no idea such a thing existed. “All right. Thanks. I will.” They reached the stables, and Ted reached to open the door. He paused though and looked at her. “You really think it looks good?”

  “Yeah,” she said, and before she knew it, she’d reached up and ran her hand down the side of his face, his whiskers soft yet bristly at the same time. She pulled in a breath when she realized what she’d done, and her eyes flew to his.

  Desire and shock sat in his expression, which was about what flowed through her bloodstream.

  “I think it looks great,” she said, the words scratching in her throat as her hand finally fell away from his face. She could still feel the heat from his skin, and it moved through her, warming her even more.

  “Thanks,” Ted said, his vocal cords suddenly infected with the same huskiness. “I think you look great too.” With that, he pulled open the door and nodded for her to go ahead of him. She did, the tension and awkwardness between them intensifying until he said, “My meeting is this way. I’ll see you later, Emma,” in a normal voice.

  “See you,” she said, also as normally as possible. And since she was very good at stuffing things away and pretending everything was okay, her voice was normal too.

  As she mixed up the formula for Patches, she couldn’t help smiling to herself. Just as quickly though, she remembered why she hadn’t dated since coming to Hope Eternal Ranch.

  She wasn’t going to start a relationship with Ted. She could think he was good-looking, with a sexy beard, and just walk back and forth from the house to the stables with him. They could be friends.

  After all, she was friends with Ginger, and she hadn’t told her everything. Friends was a category Emma was very good at. She knew which boxes people went into, and she knew which information to share with them.

  “Yes,” she whispered to herself. “Just friends.”

  Chapter Seven

  Ted hadn’t worked this hard for years, and he didn’t entirely hate it. His muscles weren’t sure what to make of lifting the hay bales, and his legs hadn’t quite been walking around as much as he had the last couple of days—and yesterday, he’d only worked until lunchtime.

  Today, he’d gone back to the Annex with Nate, and he’d enjoyed a ham and turkey sandwich with him and his son. They’d talked and laughed, and Spencer, Bill, and Nick had come in about halfway through.

  Ted liked the vibe at the ranch, and he really liked the guys who lived in the Annex. They all seemed to know who they were and what they were doing, which for him, allowed him to give some thought to who he wanted to be and what he wanted to be doing.

  He liked working with the horses, though he still had plenty to learn. Jess had told him today that the horses really liked him because he had “great calm energy.” Ted wasn’t sure what that meant, because out of him and Nate, Ted was definitely more high-strung. Ted could get fired up with a couple of wrong words, and he had more—and stronger—opinions than Nate. He’d been told by his best friend to “take it down a notch” and to not let his anger dictate what came out of his mouth.

  When the horseback riding lessons began, Ted had a couple of hours off, and he wandered past the equipment shed and toward the river that bordered the ranch. He’d learned the Mission River ran along three sides of Hope Eternal Ranch, and he’d watched Nate take a group of tourists down the dirt road that led out to the swampier areas of the ranch. Apparently, they’d be bird-watching for the next three days.

  The ranch hosted fishing too, as well as hunting. Daily classes on beehives and honey sales. Horseback riding lessons. Farming and hay sales. They even had a half-dozen cabins where people stayed overnight for a true “wilds of Texas” experience.

  How Ginger managed it all, Ted wasn’t sure. Jess had emphasized over and over that the ranch relied on its horses for the largest percentage of its income, and it was her job to make sure they were properly cared for.

  Ted had learned how to saddle a horse, how to check their hooves and shoes, and how to lead one where he wanted it to go. He had not ridden a horse in years. He had grown up in Texas, so he’d definitely been in a saddle before, but it had probably been twenty-five years at least.

  He hadn’t dared mention that to Jess, because he was sure she’d simply stare at him with her mouth hanging down. Then she’d put him in the beginner class with all the children, and Ted would experience a deep sense of humiliation just by being the tallest.

  The sun baked the ground he walked on, and once he reached the trees, the shade provided some relief. The river bubbled, and Ted figured it would probably dry up about mid-summer.

  He approached a fence and leaned against it, sighing. He took off his cowboy hat and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He would like to learn to ride a horse, and he wondered if he could ask Emma to teach him.

  He wasn’t sure what had transpired between them that morning, but he sure had liked the touch of her fingers along his face. He hadn’t experienced the soft, gentle touch of a woman in a long, long time, and his nerves raced through him though he wasn’t anywhere near Emma.

  His biggest problem was that he had no idea how to talk to a woman. When or if he should hold her hand. And kissing a woman…he swallowed just thinking about it. He couldn’t believe he was even thinking about it at all.

  Emma had some serious walls up, and Ted suspected he’d have to kick them down. He wasn’t sure he had the energy, and he certainly didn’t want to do anything that would put his release in jeopardy.

  He’d seen what had happened to Nate, and Ted would not go back to River Bay. He reminded himself that he had no ghosts from his past haunting him. He had no loose ends to tie up. He had nobody who wanted anything from him, and his whole future wide open.

  “Three and a half months,” he told himself. He would work with the horses and do exactly what Ginger told him, and what Jess said, for three and a half months. Nothing else. Nothing more.

  Nothing with Emma.

  A sigh escaped his mouth, and he looked over the fence. About thirty yards away, a dirt road ran parallel to the river, and Ted imagined himself on it, behind the wheel of a brand-new truck. He didn’t have the money for that truck, and he couldn’t actually take another step and go beyond this fence.

  But one day, in three and a half months, he could.

  His spirits lifted, and a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you,” he whispered, glad for maybe the first time that his mother had insisted all of her children attend church. Prison had a way of bringing a man closer to God too, and Ted had relied on elements of his faith every day of his time in River Bay.

  He took a deep
breath of the fresh air, and he realized he was all alone. No one knew where he was, and he didn’t have to report back to anyone, at least not for a while.

  He was just about to turn around and go find something to drink when a blue truck edged into his vision. If Ted walked left along the fence, he’d reach the lane that led to the homestead, and this truck was headed the same way.

  Where had it come from? What was down the road to the right? To Ted’s knowledge, the ranch and all its fields and wetlands, bird blinds and cabins, beehives and butterflies.

  He looked that way, but there was no other traffic.

  The truck continued down the lane, but it wasn’t moving very fast.

  He was driving a blue truck with a grasshopper on the side. Emma’s words echoed in his mind.

  A blue truck. Had it had a grasshopper on the side? He hadn’t even noticed.

  Ted sprang into motion and walked along the fence, intending to catch up to the truck and find out who was driving it. He couldn’t hear the engine as the truck practically crawled along now, and Ted tried to get a good look at the license plate. He did, and he quickly pulled his phone from his back pocket and typed in the license numbers and letters.

  SJL 9942.

  A single man drove the truck, and he didn’t have any windows down. Ted couldn’t hear any music coming from the truck. He wanted to call Emma and have her meet him on the bridge—as far as he could go. But he didn’t have her number.

  The blue truck also didn’t bear a grasshopper. Ted’s step faltered, but his pulse did not. Thinking quickly, he bent down and acted like he was checking something along the fence. He had no idea what that would even be, but he figured the guy in the truck wouldn’t either.

  He moved to the next pole and bent again, this time sneaking a peek toward the truck. The driver’s door had been opened, and Ted quickly straightened again, his senses on high alert. He’d seen fights coming in prison, and he’d learned to be ready.

  The man walked toward him, not too fast, and not too slow. Ted backed up a step and dusted off his hands. “Hey there,” he said. “Do you need some help?” His voice sounded slightly off, but this stranger wouldn’t know. Ted didn’t smile, and he made sure he was out of arm’s reach as the stranger continued to approach.