Emmy's Equal

by Marcia Gruver

  He thought he’d burst waiting for the right moment to show John Rawson, and now the wait was over. Today marked the fifth ride. Usually skittish when Diego entered the barn, Faron’s head had bobbed over the front of the stall, nickering his impatience. He stood trembling with anticipation while Diego hitched up his saddle, and Diego’s boot hardly touched the stirrups before Faron trotted from the barn. The time had come to reveal his big surprise.

  “Well, well.”

  Diego pulled on the reins and shifted his weight to look behind him.

  Cuddy lounged next to the barn door with crossed arms. Not a word had passed between them for the last four days, not since Cuddy’s threat beside the Nueces.

  It didn’t surprise Diego how simple it was to avoid him. Seeking out the hardest work on the ranch made it easy to bypass Cuddy Rawson.

  He’d avoided Emmy, too. Much harder to do since she appeared at every turn. At first, she responded to his aloofness with flashing, angry eyes. The expression in their shaded blue depths soon changed to sadness and confusion.

  “You have something to say, Rawson?”

  One eyebrow raised, Cuddy’s gaze wandered over Faron from hoof to mane and finally settled on Diego. “I didn’t think anyone could tame that devil.”

  “It wasn’t easy.”

  Cuddy laughed bitterly. “What won’t you do to garner that old man’s favor?”

  Diego closed his eyes to steady his temper. “What won’t you do to hurt him?” he asked without a backward glance. Taking up the slack in the reins, he steeled himself and tapped Faron’s sides with his heels.

  Blood surged through Diego’s veins as the horse leaped into a run. The wind whistled in his ears as they flew down the long drive in front of the house. Faron jumped the gate, hardly breaking his stride, and hit the road with lightning flashing from his hooves.

  No wonder no fence could hold him. Faron needed to run, lived to stretch his body to its limits with the earth flying past beneath him. For weeks, no matter how tired, no matter how hungry, Diego had spent his free time working with Faron. The thrill of this ride proved to be worth every second.

  He spotted a cloud of dust ahead and followed it with his eyes. Faron cut the distance between them so fast, Diego hardly blinked before he recognized it to be the Rawsons’ rig. A thrill shot through him. He wished somehow to be in the saddle surprising Mr. Rawson, yet at the same time be in the wagon watching his face light up when he figured it out.

  Diego decided to breeze right by him then circle back to get his reaction. As Faron passed in a blur, John Rawson let out a howl. Diego’s grin was so wide he collected sand on his teeth. He slowed and turned the horse.

  Mr. Rawson stood in the two-seater watching, though dancing in the two-seater seemed closer to the facts. As Diego approached, he shouted again, so loudly the horse jumped.

  Diego steadied Faron and reined him in beside the cluster of astonished faces.

  “Whooeeee! Son, my old eyes must be deceiving me. What’s that thing you’re riding?”

  Diego’s cheeks had found their limits. “Only the fastest beast in South Texas, sir.”

  Mr. Rawson clambered to the ground, his eyes aglow with excitement. “Can I ride him?”

  Diego swung down. “There’s only one way to find out.”

  Wringing her hands, Mrs. Rawson scooted to the driver’s seat. “Oh, John, no.”

  He raised one beefy hand. “Now, Kate...” Running his fingers along Faron’s glistening neck, he crooned to him. “Easy boy. That’s it, now.”

  She stood up. “John Rawson, you promised you wouldn’t let that animal hurt anyone.”

  “And I aim to keep my promise.”

  Mr. Dane leaned out of the rig. “Maybe she’s right, John.”

  With eyes only for the horse now, John didn’t seem to hear his friend’s suggestion. He put his boot in the stirrup, and Mrs. Rawson squealed and stamped her foot. “I won’t see you do this.”

  He swung into the saddle. “Then close your eyes.”

  She had time to gasp and he was gone, barreling down the road toward the house as if borne on angels’ wings. As horse and rider dashed around a curve and disappeared, one more gleeful shout rang out.

  Mrs. Rawson sat heavily on the seat. “Oh, Diego. What have you done?”

  Wincing, he came alongside her and peered into her dismal face. “It was bound to happen, ma’am. Your husband was determined to ride that horse. Wouldn’t you rather it be after I calmed him down some?”

  She reached to pat his hand. “I know you’re right, but I’ve dreaded this day.”

  Diego chuckled. “He’ll be fine. He’s an expert horseman.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “I know that, too. They’re likely in the barn by now, Faron getting a rubdown while John congratulates himself on your accomplishment.” She smiled and squirmed into her place. “The least you can do is drive me home.”

  Diego climbed aboard and untied the reins. “It won’t be possible to get you there quite as fast as Mr. Rawson, but I’ll get you there in one piece.”

  She gave him a look from under her lashes. “Very good, assuming John made it home in one piece.”

  Mrs. Bloom leaned in between them. “He’s in one piece or hundreds. As fast as that horse was moving, there wouldn’t be nothing left to sweep into a dustpan.”

  “Bertha!” Mrs. Dane bawled at her.

  “Well...”

  ***

  Emmy slammed down her hairbrush and slumped on the bed. “It’s not right. Why can’t I go with you?”

  Mama shot her a warning look. “Keep your voice down. I’ve told you why.” She took Emmy’s wrist and pulled her up. “I’ve also told you not to loll about on this bed, haven’t I?”

  Emmy had to admit the Redwork quilt was lovely. Blocks of embroidered flowers, animals, and children were set against a white background, each square outlined in red and white sashing. The quilter, evidently a young Katherine Colbeck, had stitched the initials K.C. and the year 1878 inside a wreath in the last square a few years before she became Kate Rawson.

  Mama smoothed the rumpled spread and shook her head. “I don’t know why Kate has all the beds spruced up like this. I’m not sure I’d want such lovely bedcovers for everyday. Makes you scared to move in here.”

  Emmy groaned. “Stick to the point, please. You know Papa’s notion is ridiculous. I have to stay behind because of bandits that may never appear? Mama, listen to me. I will not stay without one of you here with me. I hardly know these people.”

  Mama shot her a dubious glance. “Don’t twist the facts to suit you. You seem to know Cuddy well enough to add a few gray strands to your papa’s head.” She stood up from straightening the spread and frowned. “Don’t think he hasn’t mentioned his concerns about you two to Kate Rawson. If not for her offer to stay behind and chaperone, you’d have your papa in your lap until I got back.”

  Emmy bristled. “He spoke to her?” Burning with shame, she spun away from her mama and gripped the edge of the dresser. “How humiliating! What did he say?”

  “I wasn’t privy to the conversation.” She held up her finger. “But I know this ... you have Cuddy to blame. He shouldn’t have opposed your papa like he did. So if you’re entertaining thoughts about Cuddy, forget them. Papa would never give his blessing.”

  Emmy pushed off the dresser. “For pity’s sake, Mama. Cuddy’s just a friend.”

  Mama looked doubtful. “Friend or suitor, Willem will never accept Cuddy now.”

  Squealing her frustration, Emmy swept from the room. She’d done nothing all day but listen to plans she wouldn’t be part of and helped everyone pack to leave her behind. She had to get out of the house or bust.

  Mama jerked open the door and stuck her head out. “Where are you going?”

  “No farther than the veranda, so don’t call out the dogs.”

  “Emily!”

  Emmy flounced down the stairs and out the back door, feeling like a spoiled child but
too angry to care. She stared at the cloudless blue sky butting into the distant line of trees along the banks of the river, her thoughts as murky as the muddy bottom.

  Mama and Papa didn’t want her spending time with Cuddy. The others, including Cuddy, seemed to like it just fine. Emmy felt a bond of kinship with the troubled young man, even held affection for the tenderhearted, quick-to-smile rascal. But no matter how charming Cuddy Rawson might be, in matters of the heart, Emmy’s interests lay elsewhere.

  The heat of the midday sun on her bare head reminded her of two things. One, she’d left her hair unpinned, and two, it was August in what had to be the hottest place in the world.

  Ducking into the shade of the covered patio, she perched on the wall of her haven to pout. Self-conscious, she gathered her thick mane over one shoulder and began to wind it into a braid.

  “Leave it loose, Emmy.”

  She spun. “Diego! I didn’t see you there.”

  He closed the distance between them and reached for her hair, wonder in his voice. “These curls are like twisted bands of sunshine.”

  Trembling inside, she let him twirl a blond ringlet around his finger. “Where have you been?”

  He sobered and released her hair.

  Horrified at her boldness, she tried to fix her blunder. Brightening her mood, she smiled. “It’s been days since we’ve had a chance to talk. I guess you’ve been busy with the ranch.” She ducked her head. “Unless...”

  Diego touched her shoulder. “Unless?”

  She lifted her eyes to his. “Have I offended you in some way?”

  He turned aside and buried his fingers in his hair. “Emmy...” His jaw muscles worked and his gaze lost focus. “I owe you an apology. I’ve been blaming you for something that’s not your fault. You can’t help how you feel.”

  Jumping to her feet, she grasped his hands. “Exactly! I’m so glad you said that. I was just thinking the same—”

  He withdrew from her touch. “Then you’ll forgive me if I continue to keep my distance. It will make things easier.”

  She flashed him a startled look. “Pardon?”

  Cuddy breezed around the corner of the house whistling a tune Emmy didn’t recognize. Strolling lazily toward his father’s rig with a packed crate in his hands, his head came up as if he’d sensed their presence. He paused and stared. The sight of him irked Emmy. His deliberate gaze bore the arrogance of a man who felt entitled to look.

  Diego took a step away from her and bowed. “I’ll be going. I’ve caused you enough trouble.”

  Cuddy lifted the crate over the tailgate then turned with his hands on his hips. “Thought the old man sent you to Carrizo for supplies.”

  Ignoring him, Diego strolled off the brick patio and crossed the yard.

  Their confusing conversation concerned Emmy more than the fact that he’d left. Well, almost. She watched Diego’s broad shoulders until he disappeared inside the barn.

  “Afternoon, sweetheart.”

  The sultry voice in her ear lifted Emmy from the ground. She clutched her heart. “You shouldn’t sneak up on folks like that.”

  Laughter rumbled in Cuddy’s chest. “I didn’t exactly sneak, now did I?” His attention shifted. “Well now, look at this. I sure like these pretty ringlets falling around your face.” He reached to touch her hair, but she slapped his hand. He chuckled and rubbed the red spot. “Feisty today, are we?”

  She nodded at the crate. “I see you’re loading the wagon. Does that mean you’re riding along to Catarina?”

  “On a trip with my father?” He snorted. “No thank you. He roped me into helping them pack, that’s all.” A hopeful glint flickered in his eyes. “And you?”

  Sorry she’d brought it up, Emmy frowned and shook her head.

  Cozying up three steps too close, he leaned to whisper. “No one around to meddle in our business? Such an obliging arrangement. I’ll have to remember to thank your father.”

  “Don’t make me slap you again, Cuddy Rawson.” She pushed him away. “And wipe that silly leer off your face. It doesn’t become you. Besides, are you so foolish to believe Papa would leave me alone in this house with you?”

  He cringed. “He’s staying behind?”

  “No, not him.”

  “Your mother?”

  She arched one brow. “No.”

  Cuddy scratched his head. “There’s no one left but Rosita, and she goes home nights.”

  “You forgot your own mother.”

  He lifted a disbelieving eyebrow. “You’re mistaken. Mother told me herself she was going.”

  “That was before Papa decided the trip might be too dangerous. Your mother offered to stay in his place.”

  Cuddy let his head fall back. “That’s bad news. Mother considers chaperoning young ladies an art form.” He touched her chin. “So that’s what has you wrapped tighter than a cinch strap.”

  She pressed her lips together and let him assume what he wished.

  He dashed his hat against his legs. “The whole thing is absurd. Children need a wet nurse. When will they consider us grown?”

  Emmy leaned against a post with a sigh of resignation. “When we’re married, I suppose.”

  Cuddy tucked his hat on his head and bent so close the brim touched her face. “Was that a proposal, Miss Dane?”

  “Oh, stop!”

  “It’s very forward, considering we just met, but I promise to think about it.”

  She laughed. “Yes, for all of ten seconds. Somehow you don’t seem the marrying kind.”

  Edging closer, he nudged the hat brim out of his way. “I think you may have misjudged me, Emily Dane.” His worldly blue eyes closed in.

  Emmy turned her face aside so abruptly he narrowly missed kissing the post. “I don’t think so. Somehow I’m certain I called it right.”

  With a grunt from Cuddy and the hollow sound of a fist in his back, someone too short for Emmy to see over his shoulder latched onto him from behind and pulled him off her. Panting from the effort it took to toss Cuddy aside, Aunt Bertha glared.

  Emmy gasped and held up one hand. “Aunt Bert, please don’t look at me that way. This is not what you think.”

  “It never is, darlin’.” She tipped her head at Cuddy. “I ain’t too sure what I’m interrupting here, but this scalawag’s mama is calling for him. I reckon she has more hauling she needs him to do.” She wagged her finger in Cuddy’s face. “You’d best get to it, before I call Willem and let him sort this out.”

  Cuddy tipped his hat. “There’s no call for that, ma’am. I’m going.” He winked at Emmy and hustled toward the house.

  As he trotted past, Emmy caught sight of Diego’s mama standing just outside the veranda, a pan of dried corn on her hip. She watched Emmy with ancient, knowing eyes—eyes that judged her and found her guilty. The little woman had seen everything and understood nothing.

  Emmy’s heart sank.

  Melatha averted her gaze, hitched up the pan of bright yellow grain, and went her way.

  Emmy longed to call out, to deny and explain, but what could she say that made a lick of sense? Besides, she still had to deal with Aunt Bertha.

  “What am I supposed to do now, little girl? You’ve landed me in a right sore spot. If I tell your papa what I just saw, he won’t go with me on this trip. Worse, he’s liable to make your mama stay behind.” She peered up at Emmy. “I’m just selfish enough to want to avoid such a thing because I don’t know enough about what I’m doing. I need the both of them with me when I buy my cattle.” She curled her first finger under her chin. “On the other hand, if I don’t tell them and something happens to you while we’re gone, I’ll never forgive myself.” She widened her eyes. “And neither would they.”

  Emmy gripped her shoulder. “There’s no need to tell them, Aunt Bert.”

  The wise green eyes softened. “I expected that answer since it saves your hide. Now give me a good enough reason to believe you.”

  Emmy met her steady gaze. “I’ve d
one nothing wrong. I shouldn’t be held responsible for Cuddy Rawson’s actions.”

  One of Aunt Bertha’s piercing eyes narrowed while she pondered Emmy’s words. Emmy held her ground without flinching until Aunt Bertha exhaled and nodded. “Child, you’ve been a handful all your life, except here lately. There’ve been considerable changes over the past year, and I want you to know that I’ve noticed.”

  Blushing at the praise, Emmy smiled. “Thank you, Aunt Bert.”

  “Thank yourself, because it’s also the reason I’ll be keeping what I saw to myself.”

  Emmy kissed her cheek. “In that case, God deserves the credit. Last year I would’ve been easy prey for the kind of attention Cuddy offers.” She bent to wrap her arms around Aunt Bertha’s narrow shoulders. “You won’t be sorry you trusted me.”

  Aunt Bert thrust out her chin. “Make sure I’m not. I’ve never kept anything from your mama before. It ain’t setting well with me.”

  Sliding one arm around her, Emmy walked her toward the back door. “In that case, why not tell her once you’re on the road. She’ll know you’d never leave me behind unless you had reason to believe in me.”

  Aunt Bertha squeezed Emmy’s waist. “Sugar, I just might do that.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “If it’s all the same to you, we might not mention anything to your papa for a while yet.”

  Emmy nudged her and grinned. “I have a better idea. How about never?”

  Still laughing, they entered the house and parted company at the foot of the stairs.

  Relieved to find she had her room to herself, Emmy glanced longingly at the comfortable quilt then perched obediently on the delicate stool in front of the dressing table. Her mind was a muddle of too strict parents, too forward friends, and too distant suitors.

  Why did Cuddy seem so endearing one minute and so intolerable the next? And Diego? Seldom at a loss when it came to reading men, Emmy had yet to understand a single word he’d spoken to her in the shade of the covered porch. Part of the reason had to do with the dizzying effect of his finger twirling her hair, his hand so near her face she smelled his shaving cream.