Emma's Dream
Page 22
“Not a chance. Have I mentioned how much I love your chest?” She stroked him, hands moving lower.
“I didn’t think I could love you any more than I have this past year, but you’ve made me happier than any man deserves, Maggie Morgan.”
“And you deserve to be happy, my love.”
“We deserve to be happy,” he said, bending to kiss the tip of her nose. “And so does our incredible daughter.”
“So, what do you say, cowboy? Wanta to see if married sex is still great the second time?”
“Can I recover for a few minutes first?”
“Well, okay,” she whispered, snuggling into his arms. “But don’t wait too long. I don’t feel the same with you over there and me over here.” She smiled up at him, eyes mischievous. “You know, disconnected and all.”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you, too, my darling husband. And I was only kidding. Take all the time in the world to recover. We have the rest of our lives.”
“I like the sound of that, but my dearest wife, I can’t wait that long. Come here, Ms. Morgan, and let me see what this cowboy can do for an encore.”
Please read on to preview chapters from Lang's Return: Book Two in the Morgan’s Run Series.
About the Author
M. Lee Prescott is the author of dozens of works of fiction for adults, young adults, and children, among them Prepped to Kill, Gadfly, Lost in Spindle City (Ricky Steele Mysteries), A Friend of Silence, In the Name of Silence and The Silence of Memory (Roger and Bess Mysteries) Jigsaw, Song of the Spirit, and her newest contemporary romance series, Morgan’s Run, of which Emma’s Dream is the first! Three of her nonfiction titles have been published by Heinemann, and she has published numerous articles in the field of literacy education. Lee is a professor of education at a small New England liberal arts college, where she teaches reading and writing pedagogy. Her current research focuses on mindfulness and connections to reading and writing. She regularly teaches abroad, most recently in Singapore.
Lee has lived in southern California (loved those Laguna nights!), Chapel Hill, North Carolina, and various spots in Massachusetts and Rhode Island. Currently she resides in Massachusetts on a beautiful river, where she canoes, swims, and watches an incredible variety of wildlife pass by. She is the mother of two grown sons and spends lots of time with them, their beautiful wives, and her amazing grandchildren. When not teaching or writing, Lee’s passions revolve around family, yoga (Kripalu is a second home), swimming, sharing mindfulness with children and adults, and walking.
Lee loves to hear from readers. Email her anytime at mleeprescott@gmail.com, and visit her website to hear the latest and sign up for her newsletters!
AUTHOR WEBPAGE AND NEWSLETTER SIGN UP
A Note from the Author
I am thrilled to debut the Morgan’s Run series with Emma’s Dream. Thank you so much for reading Ben and Maggie’s story. These beloved characters will appear again and again as this series progresses. The Morgan’s Run books are set in the gorgeous American southwest, an area of the country that is dear to my heart because it is home to my youngest son and family, but also because its beauty is so extraordinary and so startlingly different from that of my New England home. What a backdrop for romance and adventure!
If you like Emma’s Dream and would be willing to write an Amazon review, I would very much appreciate it! In fact, I will be happy to send my first 25 reviewers a free e-copy of another of my titles! If you submit a review, just email me at mleeprescott@gmail.com and I will see that you receive your free copy of whichever title you choose!
If you would like to sign up for future book releases and occasional notices about my books, please visit my Author Website and sign up for my newsletter. I promise I will not share your address, nor will I flood you with emails. Do visit my site to read more about my books and to hear what’s next. By the end of the year, I hope to have Ricky Steele’s fourth adventure published, as well as two more Morgan’s Run books and the third in the Roger and Bess series. Time will tell if I’m successful!
Finally, this book has been revised, proofed, and edited many, many times, but I, and my intrepid assistants, are human, so if you spot a typo, please email me at mleeprescott@gmail.com and I will fix it. If you’d like to know more about my other books, please scroll ahead to the next section, which is followed by sample chapters of the second Morgan’s Run book, Lang's Return, Beth and Lang’s story.
Warm wishes, M. Lee Prescott
Contemporary romances and mysteries by M. Lee Prescott include:
Mysteries
The Ricky Steele series
Book 1: Prepped to Kill
Book 2: Gadfly
* * *
Book 3: Lost in Spindle City
Also featuring Ricky Steele:
Jigsaw
Roger and Bess Mysteries
* * *
Book 1: A Friend of Silence
Book 2: In the Name of Silence
* * *
Book 3: The Silence of Memory
Contemporary Romance
Well Loved Series
Widow’s Island Hestor’s Way
Glass Walls (coming soon!)
Morgan’s Run Romance
Book 1: Emma’s Dream
Book 2: Lang's Return Book 3: Jeb’s Promise
Young Adult Historical Romance
Song of the Spirit
Lang's Return (sample chapters)
* * *
Chapter 1
The truck gave out three miles from Morgan’s Run. “Damn and blast,” she cried, kicking the front tire in frustration. Then Beth Morgan burst into tears and the pain of the last few hours crashed down on her. She leaned against the hood and sobbed.
That was how he first spied her, all six feet of lanky cowgirl. Just the kind of woman he had traveled three thousand miles to avoid. One never saw women like this walking down the streets of Boston and Cambridge. Lang Dillon wondered if he should stop or just keep driving. This was meant to be a drive-by visit anyway, a concession to his parents, who were celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary. The request had actually come from his sister, Rose, to whom he could never say “now.” Now, two miles from the ranch, he was regretting his acquiescence, even to his beloved younger sibling.
“Oh, what the hell.” He pulled the Rover up behind the battered farm truck and spied “Morgan’s Run” in faded letters along the front door panel. Even better—someone from Morgan’s Run to pull him back into the life he had happily left behind.
“Hey, miss, you okay?”
“No, go away.”
“Truck broke down?”
She stood and stared at him as if he had grown three heads. “No, I just love pulling over in the hot desert sun and crying like a banshee.”
“Beth? Is that you? Beth Morgan?”
“Oh, Lord, as if things weren’t bad enough. Lang Dillon, back from the dead.”
“Something like that.” He smiled at her, deciding that the girl they had called Little Bethie as children had grown into a lovely woman. If her face and eyes weren’t red and swollen from crying, he guessed she was beautiful, in a plain, cowgirl kind of way.
Three years older than her oldest brother and six years older than she, Lang Dillon had run with an older, wilder crowd, only intersecting with her through the families as their parents were dear friends. What had she heard about him? Some kind of dot.com millionaire, maybe? Still a heartthrob, for sure, with his longish, ash-blond, wavy hair and sky-blue eyes. No man had the right to look this good on a dusty road in the middle of nowhere. Several inches taller than she, he had the body of a runner. He wore what appeared to be designer jeans and an open-collar work shirt, looking like he had stepped out of the latest GQ.
“Well, I’m fine, so you can continue on your merry way.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“Thanks for that. Really, you can head on out.” She appeared on the verge of another crying jag
.
“Why don’t I just peek under the hood while I’m here.”
“What would a city boy know about what’s under the hood?”
He grinned and stepped to the front of the truck. “May I?”
“Be my guest.”
After a few minutes, he poked his head up. “No water. Probably a radiator leak. Surprised there’s not steam pouring out of her.”
“Great, just what I need.”
“Wanta lift? Looks like you’ve got a load back there.”
“Fine, thanks.”
Lang helped load her three duffel bags, two suitcases, and several boxes into the backseat of the Rover. As they worked then hopped into the Rover to ride on, he marveled at her lithe body, her small, full breasts, which strained the fabric of a faded green Morgan’s Run tee shirt. Not an ounce of fat on this cowgirl.
Beth Morgan tried unsuccessfully to ignore the gorgeous man who had come to her rescue. Maybe it was better to focus on his sinewy frame and eyes as blue as the Arizona sky. Perhaps if she focused all her attention on Lang Dillon, she could block out the horror of several few hours earlier when she had come home to the condo she shared with Bill and found him in bed with another woman.
She had wanted to surprise him, and that she did. He had just returned from two weeks researching in Monument National Park, and they had arranged to meet at the ranch for dinner. But the morning had been slow, and Beth had missed her lover and dearest friend. If she took the afternoon off, maybe they would call and make an excuse not to dine with the family. She wanted him all to herself. The recollection brought on a fresh spate of tears. Suddenly a clean, ironed handkerchief appeared, which she took with a muffled, “Thank you.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Might help.”
“I doubt it. Besides, I’m not in the habit of unburdening myself to anyone, especially to a stranger.”
“Oh, now that hurts. Stranger? We practically grew up together.”
“Not that you paid me the slightest attention.”
If you looked like you do now, I might have, darlin’. My mistake. Have a lovers’ quarrel, did you?”
“Oh, what the hell? What does it matter anyway? The whole valley will know by morning. I had the good luck to come home for a surprise reunion with my boyfriend, only to find him in bed with one of his grad students. Let’s just say they weren’t sleeping. My mind will no doubt hold onto that image forever.”
“I’m sorry. He’s an ass.”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe? In your house? With a student? What is he, a professor?”
She nodded, peering over at the strong jaw that now appeared clenched in anger. My champion, she thought. “Yes, he’s a biology professor at U of A.”
“How long have you been together?”
“Seven years.”
“That sucks.”
“Big time.”
“Where am I taking you?”
“The big house. I’m running home to Mommy and Daddy with my tail between my legs. Pathetic, huh?”
“When you have parents like yours, it’s the right move.”
He turned in at the gate, “Morgan’s Run” emblazoned above them, as the Rover headed up the rise to the huge farmhouse.
“With any luck, no one will be around, and I can slink up to my room unnoticed.”
She appeared to get her wish. As he helped her carry her things to the wide porch, they were uninterrupted. “That’s fine, right here. Thank you.”
She smiled and extended her hand, which he took, saddened to feel her trembling and the coldness that had crept over her.
“Take care, Beth Morgan. I’ll see you around.”
“Lucky you.”
She withdrew her hand and disappeared into the house. As Lang headed back to the Rover, his heart felt heavy, his body cold and empty without her touch.
* * *
Chapter 2
Beth watched the Rover disappear over the rise and turn away. The encounter with Lang Dillon had distracted her, but now the crushing hurt of the last few hours bore down. In shock at the cataclysmic and abrupt change in direction her life had taken in only a few hours, the usually stoic Morgan daughter sat in a porch rocker and breathed deeply, glad to be home.
She had spoken only five words to Bill: “Get out while I pack.” He had complied, his lover following at his heels. She had raced around the condo, throwing as many of her belongings into bags and boxes as she could. What a nightmare. She bent over, head in hands and sobbed.
Always the quiet, solid Morgan, Beth had never been given to outbursts or strong displays of emotion. She could not remember the last time she had cried. Solid, dependable Beth had escaped ranch living to reside in Tucson with her beloved Bill, her former professor. They had made a comfortable life for themselves away from the ranch where she worked every day. Their activities mostly centered around Bill’s university friends, which suited her just fine.
Growing up, her siblings were constantly surrounded by friends, but Beth had few. Bookish and shy, she spent most of her free time with a nose in her books or helping out on the ranch’s vast farm. Morgan’s Run had the largest organic farm in the state, which she now ran with her sister, Ruthie and workers who had been surrogate parents to them both. Bill and the farm were her entire life.
She met Bill her first week at the University of Arizona when she enrolled in his Biology 101, a huge first year class with over a hundred students. She had remained after class on that first day to ask Professor Sampson to sign her gray card to allow her into the course. He had signed it and asked if she wanted to go for coffee. It was Bill’s first year of teaching. Shy and reserved like herself, he sensed a kindred spirit in the lovely young woman eight years his junior. They often laughed about that encounter and how Bill had not yet learned to set boundaries between himself and students.
They had dated on and off for three years before he asked her to move in with him senior year. Her parents had screamed, yelled, and begged her to stay in the dorm, but once she made up her mind, Beth could seldom be dissuaded. Five years ago, they had moved from Bill’s faculty apartment to a condo near the foothills, with hiking trails right outside their door. They had purchased it together and she groaned thinking about the headache of dividing their very mingled assets, which included joint checking and savings accounts, the condo, and land they had purchased to the north, near Flagstaff. Their intention had been to build a vacation cabin in the next few years and spend a good part of each summer in the mountains they both loved.
She moaned as fresh sobs wracked her slender frame. This was how her older brother found her, head in hands, crying. Ben could not remember his sister crying since she was ten and fell off her horse, and even then there had not been audible wailing, just a few tears streaking her face.
“Hey, Beth, what’s going on?”
He took the porch steps in one stride and knelt in front of his sibling. Of all the Morgan children, Beth and Ben were closest, their relationship largely unspoken, borne by an appreciation for and understanding of each other. However, dealing with uncontrollable weeping was uncharted territory for the dust-covered cowboy, who had stopped in at the house for his father’s map box.
She gazed up at her handsome brother, his chestnut eyes full of concern. He had pushed his hat back, and a line of grime and sweat crisscrossed his brow, his dark brown hair flecked with red dust. “Where have you been?”
“Harley and I have been breaking in a new mustang. Morning was a little wilder than we anticipated.” He meant Harley Langdon, his oldest friend, with whom he ran the ranch’s stables. He smiled his hundred-watt smile that made every woman swoon, including his bride of six months, Maggie Williams, one of the wranglers with whom he worked.
“Never mind me. What the hell’s happened to you?”
“Could you help me carry the bags up to the pony room?” she asked, referring to one of the upstairs bedrooms, originally their b
rother Kyle’s room and now one of the home’s guest rooms.
They each grabbed bags, and with two trips, all had been stowed in the light-filled bedroom, its wallpaper still festooned with cowboys and their horses in bright reds, blues, and oranges. By tacit agreement, they went to the kitchen and grabbed iced tea, which they took to the back terrace. It was market day for Carmela, the cook and housekeeper. No one was about, including their mother, Leonora.
“So?” he said, eyes full of concern.
“So, I found Bill in bed with a grad student, and I’ve left him. Period, end of story.”
“The bastard. I’ll kill him.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Harley and I’ll go down and have a talk with him then.”
“No, you won’t. I’ll deal with Bill, but not now. I need a few days, maybe weeks, to pull myself together.”
“Jesus, what’s it been, six years?”
“Seven, living together. Ten, if you count the years we dated.”
“I’m sorry, Beth. Are you sure you want to camp here? Maggie and I have plenty of room. We’d loved to have you.”
“Thanks, but I’ll manage. I’ll stay out at the farm as late as I can and find ways to escape Mother’s meddling till I figure things out.”
“Uh-oh, speak of the devil. I think I just heard her pulling up.”
“Time to face the music. What were you doing here, anyway?”