by Jeannie Watt
“I’m trying to help,” Selma muttered. She gave a sniff and sat on the edge of the sofa. “Life isn’t easy.”
Emma sat on the other end of the sofa, half turning to face her stepmom. “Losing Len taught me that.”
“I don’t want you kids to hurt.”
Emma reached out and touched her stepmother’s hand. “You can’t control those kinds of things. You’ll get an ulcer if you try.”
“Already have one.” Selma’s mouth instantly tightened and she gave Emma a fierce look as if daring her to comment.
Emma scowled back. “For how long?”
Selma waved a hand. “Davis made me go to the doctor a couple of months ago.”
“He made you?” There was definitely more to the dynamic of her father and stepmother’s relationship than she’d been aware of. And this was probably what Wylie had been referring to when he’d told her early in the road trip that Selma wasn’t acting like herself.
“I wouldn’t have gone otherwise.” Selma’s hand clenched into a fist.
“Do the boys know about this?”
Selma frowned at her. “Of course not.”
“That’s it. You need to focus on something other than us.”
Selma raised a startled gaze. “But—”
Emma held up a hand, cutting her stepmom off. “No more ex-fiancé attacks.” Selma opened her mouth and Em waved her finger. “Let Archer learn his women lessons the hard way. Make Wylie do his own laundry.”
“He doesn’t understand stain removal.”
“Then he’ll wear dirty jeans. Consequences, Selma. Let them happen. Don’t try to fix everything. Run everything.” She drew in a breath that made her shoulders rise. “Let Dad carry some of the burden.”
“I’ve never...”
Emma stuck her chin out. “Do it. When your ulcer is better, we’ll revisit. And I want a doctor’s note giving you the all clear.” Emma got to her feet. “I’ll talk to Wylie and Archer and DJ. You might be able to take us one at a time, but I don’t think you can fight a united front.”
“For heaven’s sake, Em. I’m not an invalid.”
“And it kind of sucks losing control of one’s life, right?”
Selma blinked at Emma as the meaning of her words sank in. “This isn’t the same.”
“It is.” She pulled out her phone. “I’ll just call the boys in from the fields and we’re going to have a family meeting.”
* * *
EMMA DROVE BACK to town almost two hours after she’d arrived at the ranch thinking that the world was a strange place. She’d gone home hell-bent on establishing autonomy and ended up in a family meeting about her stepmom’s health.
There was no way Selma was going to let her family call all the shots, but once Archer, DJ and Wylie were apprised of the situation, they let it be known that, yes, they thought their mother worried about them too much—worry being code for control, of course—and they wanted her to focus on getting well.
Several times during the discussion, Selma had raised her gaze to meet that of her husband, who’d stood behind the kitchen table where his sons and wife sat, his arms folded over his chest. Every single time Davis had nodded his agreement with what Emma or her brothers had said, Selma bit her lip as if making a conscious effort to listen to her family instead of fighting back. Or maybe she was plotting strategy. Whatever the reason, there were five of them and one of her and it was the first time that her family had ever presented a united front against her...for her own good.
Emma didn’t believe for one minute that Selma would instantly reform, but she thought that perhaps she and her brothers might be able to handle her interference in a different way than before. And that maybe they understood things a little better. When she’d left, her dad had sat down next to Selma and put a hand on her shoulder as he leaned close to hear what she had to say. Emma had seen them do that before, but had always assumed that Selma was giving orders.
Maybe not.
Maybe things were not always as they appeared—or as she’d decided they were.
* * *
DARION’S TRUCK WAS parked near the diner when Emma drove back through town on her way to the Larkin Ranch. She pulled her truck into a space on the next block. Now she wasn’t going to have to hunt him down. She and Darion had a few issues to iron out.
His head came up as she walked through the diner door, almost as if he’d been expecting her, and when she stopped next to his table he waved her into the other side of the booth. Emma slid across the vinyl seat and he motioned for her friend Chloe to bring coffee—just like old times. Except that this wasn’t old times.
“I’m sorry.” His mouth tightened ruefully as he cupped the heavy ceramic coffee mug in front of him with both hands. Strong hands, like Jess’s, but she’d never found them as fascinating.
“What happened?”
He shrugged self-consciously. “Selma. She told me that you needed me.”
Emma leaned back as Chloe put a cup in front of her, filled it and then topped off Darion’s coffee. Emma sent her a quick smile, then settled back to business. “Did she elaborate?”
“She was just mysterious enough that I felt as if I had to come. As if you really did need me.”
There was something in his tone that made her cock her head ever so slightly. “Do you need me to need you?”
He shrugged before candidly meeting her gaze. “It’s what brought us together, held us together.”
“Until we came to our senses.”
He nodded. “When Selma called, the old protective instinct kicked in.”
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
“Yeah.” His cheeks colored as he dropped his gaze to his cup. He was a great-looking guy with warm hazel eyes and sun-streaked brown hair, and his tendency toward shyness made him all the more endearing. But she’d never longed for him, never felt the ache for him. She’d needed him after the accident that killed Len, had trusted him, loved him, but she hadn’t wanted him in the way a wife should want her husband.
He lifted his chin. “I thought it was best for both of us. And the texts you sent...they seemed like duty texts.”
Now Emma’s cheeks warmed. “They were, in a way.”
“I was afraid that if we got back together, we might fall back into old habits.” He leaned back, still cupping the mug on the table. “But it appears that you’re back in fighting form.”
“I wouldn’t say that. But I’ve grown. Figured a few things out.” Unfortunately, she still had a few issues to sort through. And they were the big ones.
“I met a woman...”
Emma’s gaze snapped up. “You’re dating?”
“No.” The word came out quickly. “But I’m...”
A slow smile crept across Emma’s face. “Looking?”
Now the color really started to show in Darion’s face. “I am. I don’t want to come off like a jerk. It’s only been six weeks since we broke things off.”
“It seems like a lifetime,” Emma murmured.
Darion gave a slow nod, then started to smile. Emma smiled back as the old feeling of bon ami settled over her, making her heart swell. “We probably would have made it,” he said.
“Yes.”
“But...”
Emma’s gaze locked with his. “Bullet dodged?”
He let out a whoosh of breath. “Totally.”
Emma reached across the table then, eased his fingers off the mug and covered his hand with hers. “We’re still friends.” It was a flat statement of something she needed to be true.
He nodded. “I didn’t know if I could do it—go back to being friends. Then I met Esther—”
“Esther?”
“Old-fashioned name. Old-fashioned girl.”
Perhaps some
one who needed him?
“And things kind of fell into place?” she asked.
“They did. When Selma called, I decided to come back and see if we could hammer out this friendship thing again. I didn’t know that she had intentions of marching us back to the altar.” Emma squeezed his fingers, then released his hand to pick up her cup and take her first drink. The coffee was no longer hot.
He smiled. “One look at your face and I knew it wasn’t the time to hammer things out. If I tried I’d probably be wearing the hammer.”
“I was a little hot,” she admitted. “But I think that Selma and I—the whole family, really—are starting down a new path.” For a while anyway. Until Selma felt better, and then all bets were off.
“I was glad you were traveling with Jess Hayward. I figured if you needed someone to see you through, he’d be the guy.”
“Why’s that?” Emma’s question came out on a husky note and she cleared her throat.
“You and he had that brother-sister thing going on.”
Now Emma blew out a whoosh of breath as she stared down at the table. “Yeah. About that...”
After a few seconds of silence, Darion said, “Not brother and sister?”
Emma gave an adamant shake of her head. “We didn’t pursue matters.”
Darion frowned at her. “You weren’t ready?”
“I was afraid of losing him...like I lost you.”
“Loss happens, Em.”
She pressed her lips together. “And I’ve had too much loss in too short of a time.”
Darion was unfazed by her flash of annoyance. “Agreed.” He fiddled with the handle of the coffee mug. “So where are you now?”
Far away from the guy she wanted to be near. A guy who’d passed through town without so much as a hello. “I guess...I’m hiding out. Again.”
“From what?”
“Very good question, that.”
“Something you might want to think about.”
Emma met his warm hazel gaze. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be able to come up with an answer.”
“Are you happy right now?”
“No.”
He gave a slow nod. “Then maybe that’s your answer.”
She shifted in her seat. “Jess came back to town and didn’t come to see me, even though he knew where to find me.”
“There could be reasons for that.”
“You know Jess. Can you think of one other than the obvious?” Which was that he was done with her.
“Do you want to go through life not knowing?”
Emma clasped her hands together and met Darion’s gaze across the table.
That was the million-dollar question.
Chapter Sixteen
You told Selma you wanted to make your own mistakes...
Emma passed a cattle truck and eased back into her lane. Making her own mistakes sounded good in theory. But embarking on a very real journey that could very possibly be a mistake felt like another thing entirely. It felt like being posed on top of that cliff that she’d given Selma permission to pull her back from.
Except Selma didn’t know where she was or what she was doing. Only Wylie and her father knew. Neither had tried to stop her. In fact, Wylie had offered to care for the Larkin Ranch while she was gone. Emma had taken him up on the offer after clearing it with Skye.
She adjusted her grip on the steering wheel and maneuvered her brother’s truck down the freeway exit ramp. A few miles of state highway and she’d be in Cuthbert, the site of Jess’s second-to-last rodeo before finals. The site of her showdown.
Had Jess moved on? Written her off?
He hadn’t so much as texted her to find out if she’d gotten home okay. That had surprised her at first, and then she’d decided that it was better that way. That didn’t keep Jess’s silence from hurting—or making her think that in trying to save a friendship, she’d actually lost it. The unfortunate truth was that she hadn’t exactly acted like a friend, offering herself up for goodbye sex, then disappearing after he turned her down.
Emma blew out a breath, cringing at the memory. He was right. She would have regretted goodbye sex, because right now she regretted offering. She hadn’t left in the most graceful way, and now she needed to straighten things out. Make amends to the guy she’d abandoned on the road.
Try, anyway.
Maybe she’d totally blown things. Maybe he no longer respected her. She should have stayed in little sister mode...except that she couldn’t have done that. Being around him made her want him too, too much.
Talk about blowing things.
She pulled into the rodeo grounds and searched for a parking place, finally giving up and pulling into the competitors’ area. When she got out of her car, she heard the announcer give a bull-riding score.
The rodeo was almost over and her moment of reckoning was near.
The ticket booth was closed, so Emma walked in without pausing to dig money out of her purse. She eased her way through the people—competitors and rodeo family members—standing at the rail just in time to watch Wes Fremont complete a spectacular ride.
She turned to the cowboy next to her. “Has Jess Hayward ridden yet?”
The old guy shook his head and handed her his battered program.
Man of few words. Emma said thank you and turned back to the rail, quickly checking the lineup. Wes had been the first rider. Jess was second to last. A bull rider she didn’t know rode next for all of three seconds. He hit the ground running as the bull threw a hook his way.
“Some tough stock today,” the old cowboy murmured without looking at her.
“Mean?”
“From what I’ve seen.”
Emma’s stomach tightened as adrenaline kicked in. She’d kept up with Jess. Knew that he was back in peak form. In fact, every ride since she’d left he had been in the money and he was now leading in the standings.
“Em!” She turned to see Dermott come to a stop behind her, his arm in a sling.
“Hey. How’re you doing?”
He lifted the arm. “This is what I got for trying to come back too soon.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
Dermott gave a stoic nod. “We kind of missed you.”
“I had some stuff at home to take care of.”
The bull being loaded into the chutes started a ruckus, rearing and kicking, and Dermott exhaled loudly. “Chase’s bull.” He gave Emma a quick smile. “I need to get back there. I’m supposed to pull his rope for him.”
Emma smiled her understanding, wondering as he left how he was going to pull the bull rope effectively with an injured right arm.
* * *
FOCUS.
Cliffhanger gave a whistling snort, blowing snot everywhere as Jess placed his boot on the bull’s broad soot-colored back, letting the animal know that he was there. He slid down onto the bull close to the flank strap, felt the heat the animal generated through the denim he wore.
His luck had turned since Emma had left. He was winning again, and winning big.
It wasn’t enough.
Dermott pulled the bull rope with his good hand and Jess went to work warming the rosin. Once he was ready, Dermott released the tail and he worked his hand into position.
He’d proven to himself that he was ready for the pro circuit. At this time next year, barring injury, he’d be traveling the nation with his brother, chasing the really big money.
That won’t be enough either. Not without a sassy-mouthed red-haired girl giving him trouble.
Damn but he missed her. And he didn’t know how to fix things. She was living on his sister-in-law’s, and good friend’s, ranch, but that didn’t bring her any closer to him.
He slid forward onto his hand and no
dded at the gate man. Cliffhanger reared out and landed on stiff front legs, jarring Jess, tossing him forward. He fought back, pushed deep into his feet.
The bull tossed his head back, missing Jess’s face by a fraction of an inch.
Nice try, Cliffy.
Cliffhanger launched off from his hind feet, putting all four in the air as he rolled his shoulder. Jess countered by pushing away the roll, then bracing himself for another stiff-legged landing.
This time it wasn’t as jarring because he was ready for it. A mind-bending spin to the right, followed by a reverse spin to the left. Jess started going over his hand but managed to hang on, using the next reversal to regain his center.
The buzzer sounded and Jess pulled his hand free as he swung his boot over Cliffhanger’s head and landed on one knee in the dirt.
The crowd was on its feet, but Jess waited until the bull was occupied by the two bullfighters before waving his hat in acknowledgment. The knee he’d landed on didn’t feel quite right, but adrenaline kept him going until he got out of the arena.
“Better get to the medic trailer.”
Jess nodded at the official who offered the helpful advice and limped on down the alley. As he passed the trailer, he heard his score. Ninety-two. He’d be in the money even if he didn’t win, but he was fairly certain the ninety-two would put him on top.
Here he was, living his dream and wishing his life was different.
* * *
EMMA DREW IN a shaky breath after Jess had limped out of the arena. Watching him ride had been...amazing. “He did okay.”
“Hon, that boy always does okay.”
She smiled at the man who’d lent her the program and handed it back to him. “Thank you.” He touched his hat and Em turned away from the rail, traveling only a few feet before indecision slowed her steps.
She glanced around and realized that the competitor parking was on the opposite side from spectator parking. She didn’t know where to find him. Didn’t know who he was riding with or what they drove. And the alley exit that the competitors used was on the opposite side of the arena from where she now stood. Damned backward arena. She needed to get to the opposite side. Fast. She had exactly one day off before she had to be back at the diner for her shift. Skye was depending on her while she was gone.
