by Meg Maxwell
Jake brought the glasses into the living room and handed one to Emma, then sat on the other side of Redford. “To our engagement,” he said, clinking the glass.
She didn’t say anything, but at least she clinked, which meant she must be feeling a little better about having to do this.
“I think the first thing we need to discuss is whether or not we tell the crew,” Jake said. “CJ knows, of course, but the more people who know that this is a fake engagement the more we might be asking for trouble. Especially when Hank has tact issues and Grizzle is honest to a fault. Golden’s the only one I don’t have to worry about since he rarely says anything at all.”
Emma sipped her cider. “I think we should tell the cowboys. The crew has come to feel like family to me and I don’t feel right keeping the truth from them.”
He squeezed her hand. “It means a lot to me that you feel that way—that they’re family. I look at them that way too. We’ll need to hammer home that they can’t talk about it or discuss it. If someone mentions our engagement, they’ll just say, ‘isn’t that great’ or something like that.”
Emma put the glass down, her big blue eyes worried. “As for my dad, isn’t he going to think it’s awfully convenient we’re suddenly engaged?”
“I’ve been thinking about that for the past hour,” Jake said. “We tell your dad the almost truth. That after those Suits came and went, I decided I didn’t want to lose you to a parade of candidates and so I proposed myself. You can tell your dad that we’ve gotten unexpectedly close since you arrived.”
Funny thing was, none of that was almost true; it was true.
She looked at him for a long moment, then gave Redford a scratch behind the ears. “I suppose we’ll have to act engaged in public.”
“I never made it to engaged,” Jake said. “So I don’t know exactly how that looks, but I guess a little PDA when it feels warranted. We’ll have to act the part.”
He suddenly pictured her beneath him in bed, naked, her long golden hair fanned out, her hands in his hair, scratching his back. Whoa. In bed, he wouldn’t have to act at all. His desire for her would take over. But out in town, having lunch at Hurley’s or seeing a movie—would they hold hands? Gaze longingly at each other? All stuff he wouldn’t mind doing with Emma at all. All stuff that would come quite easily. He could look at Emma Hurley all damned day.
She nodded, pushing a swath of golden-brown hair behind her ear. “A kiss here and there. Holding hands on Main Street. We might have to suffer through some wedding planning too.” She looked a bit sad. Maybe just conflicted.
He hated that she had to do any of this. The lie. The acting. All she wanted was to live on her own terms, and he respected that.
“But at least at home, we can retreat to our own lives,” he said, hoping that would help ease her discomfort.
She glanced at him. “Right. Because everyone here will know it’s just for show and temporary.”
“So when is the wedding?” he asked. “We are getting married before the baby comes, right?”
Her expression changed so suddenly, so dramatically that he wanted to kick himself. Whereas before she seemed to be going along with all this just fine, or tolerating that she felt she had to go along with it, he’d added a little too much reality to make-believe. He’d brought the baby into it. Idiot, he chastised himself.
“That’ll be the first question my father asks, I’m sure,” she finally said. “So we should know how to answer it. Reginald Hurley will say that we should marry immediately. He’ll like the idea that everyone will think the baby is yours.”
“Except you wore a Baby on Board shirt to the dance last night,” he reminded her. “The engagement is coming after.”
“Yeah, I fixed one problem with the shirt—to ward off bucks’ choicers—and created an ever bigger problem. Well, if my dad insists we marry right away we’ll just make it clear that we want a reasonable engagement period so that we’re not rushing into anything, that this is for life, this is the baby’s future, and we want to make sure everything is in order before we say ‘I do.’”
“I can’t see him objecting to that,” Jake said.
I do. He thought back to five years ago, when he’d been ready to say “I do” to Samantha. The romantic gesture of hiring the skywriter. Thinking his entire future was settled—and having no idea how that future was about to crack wide-open in so many ways. Huh. Maybe CJ was right about life being a crapshoot. You just never knew.
As in what was going on in Emma’s life...she probably never saw any of this coming, despite all her father had done and said prior. Suddenly, he wanted to be by her side more than ever, there for her, a rock for her.
He supposed it was kind of nice to have her by his side too, especially now.
“I’ll call my dad and let him know we’re...engaged,” Emma said. “He’ll probably invite us over to celebrate. It’ll be our first show.”
She stood up so quickly that he wasn’t entirely sure her face crumpled, but he was pretty sure it had. She moved to the windows overlooking the front yard and the bull pastures. He could see her reflection in the glass—including how sad she looked.
He walked up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “Everything will be okay, Emma. We’re doing what needs to be done.”
She turned around and leaned her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her. When she tilted her head up as if to say “thank you,” he found her so damned beautiful that he couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss her. Her lips were so soft and warm.
She kissed him back, her hands on his neck, and all he could think about now was making love to her and wondering what was underneath her sundress.
She stepped back. “Jake. Let’s not make this confusing. Our relationship is crystal clear right now—we’re entering into a sham engagement for a very good reason.”
Right. And she wasn’t looking for more. She didn’t want to get married at all. And neither did he.
“I’ll save it for public not private,” he said.
“I don’t like any of this,” she said and hurried up the stairs, leaving him standing in the middle of the living room.
Oh hell, Redford, he said as the orange tabby padded past him. “I’m turning into Hank. Saying the wrong thing at the right time.”
* * *
An hour later, Jake called the guys together for a meeting in the barn. He glanced at Emma, standing by Midnight’s stall, wondering how they would take the news. Hank and Grizzle were both “take me as I am, take it or leave it, I speak the truth” kind of men. And Golden always did the right thing. But in this case, Emma wasn’t even sure she was doing the right thing.
As Jake explained the situation, from Emma’s father issuing his ultimatum at the dance to CJ coming up with the brilliant plan to fake an engagement as another stalling tactic until Emma could make her father see reason, he watched each man’s face. Hank shook his head. Grizzle grimaced. Golden was slack jawed. And CJ’s face was glued to his phone.
“So,” Jake concluded, “no matter what, no matter where we are, no matter the situation, Emma and I are engaged. It’s very important you all just go along with it, no matter what is said. Nod and smile kind of thing. No need to comment or add details. Nod and smile. Emma and I are engaged. I’m her fiancé.”
“I woulda stepped up too,” Hank said.
“Ditto that,” Grizzle said.
“Me too,” Golden said.
“I would have if I wasn’t going out of my head about a woman making me choose between her and my freedom,” CJ said, kicking at some errant hay. “And besides, Jake already stepped up.”
No matter what anyone said about these four, Jake thought, they were the best. They might be rough around the edges, but who the hell cared? They were good people. Through and through. He could see
Emma’s eyes mist up and she swiped at them.
“Dammit, CJ, you made Emma cry,” Hank said, shooting CJ a glare.
“No, no,” Emma said. “These are happy tears. The five of you are pretty wonderful. All of you.”
“Then why did Fern text me a little while ago that she never wants to see me again for as long as she lives?” Hank said, frowning.
“Uh-oh,” Emma said. “I thought things were going well since you apologized after the dance!”
Hank threw up his hands. “She asked if I liked her new short haircut, and I said no, I liked it better before, and she got all mad, so I told her I knew a company that made wigs from horse hair for cheap. She stormed off. Then the text. Jeez.”
Well, that was who cared about Hank Timber being rough around the edges. Fern.
“Oh, Hank,” Emma said, shaking her head. “Jake and I are going to Oak Creek to see my dad in a bit, but when we get back, let’s talk.”
Hank’s scowl deepened. “I don’t get it If someone asks you a question, why isn’t the truth okay? No, I don’t like the shorter hair.”
“Because the answer is always ‘you look beautiful,’” Golden said, sheepishly looking up. “That’s the answer, no matter what.”
Hank narrowed his eyes. “Well, if you have all the answers, Golden, why the heck aren’t you putting them to use by asking out Katie?”
Golden’s cheeks flamed.
CJ looked up from his phone. “Golden’s right, Hank. ‘You look beautiful no matter what’ is always the answer. Everyone knows that.”
“Well, I’ll tell you, I’m getting mighty tired of having to be on my best behavior when I don’t even know what best is!” Hank shouted and marched off.
Jake couldn’t help smiling. The man was being put through the wringer. But a necessary wringer.
“Poor Hank,” Grizzle said, chortling.
“Poor Emma,” CJ said. “She and my bro here have to put on a show for her dad in about a half hour. Think he’ll fall for it?”
Jake glanced at Emma. But before either of them could say anything, Grizzle smirked and said, “Oh, these two will have no trouble at all.”
Emma swatted at Grizzle with a grin, but Jake could see the pink on her cheeks. The comment had unsettled her. It unsettled him. That kiss last night, which maybe shouldn’t have happened right in front of an undraped window at night where anyone could see, had been so real that Jake could still feel the softness of Emma’s lips, how she’d felt in his arms, how right in that moment everything had seemed. But then whammo, once they pulled away it had felt so wrong. To kiss like that, to feel like that, with everyone so settled in the wrong direction. They weren’t a couple. They weren’t headed anywhere.
He wasn’t so sure they easily could convince anyone they were madly in love.
* * *
As Emma turned in the driveway of her family home, her heart both quickened and sank. She loved this house. And to save it, she had to pretend to do exactly what she said she didn’t want. Worse, she was faux engaged to a man she was falling more deeply in love with by the hour. A man who didn’t love her. A man who’d give up his future for her. Because like CJ had said, that was who Jake Morrow was.
“This is some house,” Jake said, looking up at the three-story white clapboard farmhouse with its red door and black shutters.
“The real treasure is in back,” she said, walking around the side of the house on the blue stone path.
The grounds opened up into a hundred acres of land with crops and orchards. Her mother had planted the lemon trees when she herself was a little girl beside her own mother. Emma had planted the pomegranate trees with her mother’s help.
One day this magical oasis will be yours, her mother had said many times over the years. And then your own child’s...
Which was a good reminder why she was doing this, going through with this charade.
The sliding glass doors opened and Reginald Hurley stepped out. Her father was almost as tall as Jake, and about fifty pounds heavier, his imperial manner adding to how imposing he always seemed. “Jake,” he said, extending his hand. “Very nice to see you again. I’m delighted by the news that you and Emma are engaged. Of course, I have two young executives to disappoint and I’ve canceled the two I’d planned to send over, but Emma has made her choice.”
Jake shook hands with her father. Reginald Hurley looked pleased. Did it really not matter to her father if Emma was in love or happy? Did only appearances matter? It seemed so.
They walked around the grounds, Emma’s father telling Jake about the orchards. She could hear the reverence and love in his voice for the farm. The thought that propriety, how things looked, could take precedence over this place was hard to believe.
Then again, despite loving this place so much and wanting to learn how to run it herself, Emma had left, unable to abide by her father’s rules and regulations for her, unwilling to live life his way. She’d made a choice.
Yes, her dad was entitled to his feelings, but at her expense?
She supposed he could say the same thing about her.
Arrg, Emma thought. Why was this all so complicated?
“I had a feeling there was something between you two at the dance,” Reginald said, his blue eyes twinkling—a rarity. “I could feel a certain intensity in the air. I’m not surprised to hear that my ultimatum sparked a little jealousy on Jake’s part and that he proposed before anyone else could sweep you off your feet.”
Did one get swept off her feet by an arranged marriage?
“Have you chosen a date?” Reginald asked. “Of course you’ll want to marry very quickly.”
Jake had called that one. “We were talking about an August wedding. Small and just family.”
“That sounds perfect,” her dad said. “I know Emma likes to take care of her own business, so you just tell me when and where to show up, and I’ll be there with my dancing shoes.”
Emma wanted to cry. She managed a nod, and felt Jake’s arm around her shoulder. She leaned against him, needing the support. How on earth would she keep this up for as a long as it took her father to come around? And what if he never did?
“I see you haven’t had a chance to go ring shopping yet, and I’m glad,” her dad said, eyeing her left hand. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box, which he handed to Jake.
“What’s this?” Jake asked.
“It’s to present to your bride,” Reginald Hurley said. “It was Emma’s mother’s.”
Tears pricked Emma’s eyes and she blinked them away. This was going too far.
“Your mother would have wanted you to have it,” her dad said, his own eyes misty.
Jake opened the box and a beautiful diamond solitaire ring gleamed and sparkled. He took the ring out and Emma slowly held out her left hand. He slid it on her finger, then held her hand.
Emma’s heart clenched. This ring represented love and commitment and forever. Her mother had loved her father, despite how difficult he’d been to live with. And her father had loved her mother, compromising time and again when Violet Hurley had put her foot down. She looked at the stunning diamond on her finger and felt like a fraud.
“Violet would have liked you, Jake,” Reginald said. “She held ranchers in the highest esteem. Working the land, with animals, growing crops. I couldn’t be more pleased if I’d chosen you myself.”
Oh, Dad, Emma thought.
Jake smiled. “Well, I’m a lucky man. Emma is a smart, independent woman who knows her own mind and she’s going to be a wonderful mother.”
Emma looked at Jake, touched by the chess move. He was speaking on her behalf, trying. And it made her fall even more in love with him.
“Now that she’ll be raising the baby in a proper home, I’m sure she will be,” Reginald s
aid.
So much for trying. Emma stiffened, and Jake seemed to know better than to challenge that statement. Her father was conservative and set in his ways, and his mind wasn’t going to be changed in one afternoon. But they were off to a good start. Her father was happy with her “fiancé.” That meant he thought Emma was making good choices for herself and the baby. The higher regard her father had for what she did, the more he’d surely come around to seeing things her way.
“Thank you for Mom’s ring, Dad,” Emma said, barely able to look at the ring again despite treasuring it.
He leaned over for something of a hug. “I’m just glad you saw things my way,” Reginald said.
Oh God. How was this possibly going to end well? And it would have to end, eventually. It wasn’t like Emma and Jake would be getting married. But the baby was coming. At some point, her dad would insist on a wedding.
“You might be headstrong, Emma,” Reginald said, “but now you’re going to be a parent and parents puts their baby first.”
Why can’t you put me first, then? she wanted to shout.
She looked at the ring gleaming on her finger, then at the handsome man standing beside her, changing the subject to the Texas Rangers’ chances for the play-offs. Part of her was very relieved that he was good at this.
But most of her was very worried at how easy it all was.
* * *
When they left Emma’s father’s house, Jake suggested they stop in at Hurley’s Homestyle Kitchen and let the ring do the telling for them. Emma would need her great-aunt and cousins to know about the engagement or it might seem strange to her father if he discovered the Blue Gulch Hurleys hadn’t been informed.
Clementine Hurley Grainger, the head waitress, walked over with menus and spotted the ring in two seconds. She wrapped Emma in a hug and shook Jake’s hand and brought Emma into the kitchen. There was a lot of oohing and ahhing over the ring and a lot of congratulations and hugs. Georgia Hurley Slater whispered in Emma’s ear that she’d gotten married when she was expecting and Emma could borrow her gown if she liked it. Jake noticed Emma’s expression managed to tighten with anxiety and soften at the kindness.
