by Angel Smits
Though Addie had gone back to Austin, to her job and her life, Emily could still see her influence. The rough and tumble troop of cowboys that filed into the kitchen looked the worse for wear, but they’d changed into fresh clothes, each of their faces was washed and their hands were clean. When they sat down at the table, they each unfolded their napkin and covered their laps.
From there on, Addie’s influence, however, vanished. Everyone talked, ate and generally enjoyed being together all at once.
Wyatt sat at the head of the table, with Tyler on his left, and a seat had been set for Emily on his right. “You sit there.” Yolanda smiled and gave Emily a nudge. She settled gingerly in the seat.
Emily couldn’t remember ever seeing so much food on one table. She hadn’t taken time to notice it on her previous trip, but thank goodness it was also the sturdiest table she’d ever seen, the top a huge, thick slab of wood. Yolanda should be exhausted, but the woman drifted and flitted around the table and the men like a mother hen with her flock of chicks, clucking all the while.
Emily thought about last night’s quiet dinner at her place. Just the two of them. She glanced over at Wyatt from under her lashes. What a difference in their worlds.
He finished putting a heavy pile of mashed potatoes on his plate and offered her the serving dish. She took it. The bowl hovered in the air between them as their eyes met and held over the fluffy white potatoes. Finally, she saw him swallow and let go of the dish. He looked down at his plate and then at the next platter. She forced herself to focus on not spilling anything as she passed the potatoes on to Walt.
Since she’d arrived, Wyatt had been very polite to her, but she could feel the distance. She didn’t like it, though she knew it was appropriate. He was doing a better job than she was of keeping this relationship professional.
Admittedly, there hadn’t been any time for her to grab even a moment alone with him since she’d arrived. Between the crew bringing in Dancer, the vet’s arrival and now dinner for this huge group, he’d been busy.
Too busy, she realized, if the lines of strain around his eyes were any indication.
Heavy footsteps announced more arrivals. Chet and another man came in the door, stomping the dirt from their boots. While Chet hovered near his wife, the other man settled in a seat at the far end of the table.
“Dancer’s all bedded down,” Chet said. “Doc thinks he’ll be fine.” His grin spread across his face. He looked over at Yolanda, pleading and apology in his eyes. “I thought I might just make a plate and go back over to keep him company.”
“Is Doc with him now?” Wyatt asked.
“Yeah, he’s cleaning up. Said he’ll send you the bill.”
“You take this.” Yolanda was already piling potatoes and chicken onto a large plate. She ladled gravy on top. Chet grinned at her and licked his lips.
“Thanks.” He took the plate and, leaning in, smacked a kiss on her cheek. Then he was gone.
“Can I go and take my dinner to the barn, too?” Tyler’s high-pitched voice cut through the din of all the men.
“Uh, no.” Wyatt’s smile had returned.
“But why not? Chet gets to.”
“Chet’s taking care of Dancer. We don’t need a whole bunch of people out there riling him up.”
Tyler’s shoulders slumped but it didn’t stop him from biting into the chicken leg he held.
“Not with your mouth full,” Wyatt said, anticipating the next request as Tyler opened his mouth.
Tyler chewed furiously as if the thought might evaporate before he could say it. He swallowed. “Can I go check after dinner?”
“We’ll see.”
“I can take him, boss,” Walt offered. “If you’ve got—uh—business to take care of.”
“Sure, thanks.”
Emily’s cheeks warmed as several pairs of eyes turned to her. “What we need to do won’t take long.” She had to force herself to look Wyatt in the eye, not because she was fearful or intimidated—no, she was afraid of getting lost in them.
“You learn anything, Josh?” Wyatt interrupted all the interested stares turned her way.
“Yeah. Followed the blood trail. Sorry, ma’am,” he apologized, apparently seeing Emily’s face pale.
She felt the heat in her cheeks drain away and let him think the blood was all that bothered her.
“And?” Wyatt prompted the cowboy.
“The fence ’tween here and Haymaker’s is stained.”
Walt’s whispered curse told Emily there was more to this than a horse simply getting too close to the fence.
“There were tracks on both sides of the fence.”
“Do you think he jumped it?” Wyatt clenched his jaw.
“No, sir. They weren’t the same shoe. And Dancer’s our best jumper. He’d have never missed.”
“Another horse?” Emily asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Wyatt recovered first and focused his gaze on his dinner rather than her.
“Yeah. Probably a pretty little filly batting her eyelashes at Dancer,” one of the cowboys across the table said.
Walt and several of the other cowboys chuckled, but Walt explained. “Our neighbor wants to breed his mares with our best stock, but doesn’t want to pay the stud fees.”
“What’s a stud?” Tyler asked and all the men laughed.
Emily couldn’t hide her own smile. Wyatt said he’d explain later. She almost wanted to be around for that conversation.
In the end, Wyatt took Tyler down to see the injured horse once dinner was done. Returning to her perch on the front steps, Emily waited for their return. She still needed to talk to Wyatt, to apologize, but she couldn’t bring herself to go with them. The adrenaline of earlier was gone and the shadows of her past were too dark.
The cool night air felt good, but her pounding heart echoed in her ears. To relax, she focused on the immediate area, looking out over the valley below.
The evening had finally fallen quiet. Not silent, as in the distance Emily could hear the men talking down in the bunkhouse. And fainter still, she heard the animals, in the barn and the wild, moving and chattering to each other. A patch of bright light spilled from the open barn door.
Footsteps finally came out of the dark and Wyatt, with Tyler at his side, materialized from the shadows. Tyler’s shoulders slumped, but Wyatt’s voice was familiar and comforting. “Don’t worry, buddy. It’s just the medicine. He’ll eat it tomorrow.” They reached the steps and stopped in front of Emily. “Go on and put it in the fridge for him for tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“Then get ready for bed,” Wyatt further instructed.
When Tyler didn’t argue, Emily frowned up at Wyatt. What was going on?
“He’ll be better tomorrow, you promise?” Tyler stopped at the screen.
“Promise.”
When Emily saw the uneaten carrot in Tyler’s hand, she understood.
“’Night, Uncle Wyatt. ’Night, Ms. Ivers.” The boy disappeared inside, the screen door smacking wood on wood in his wake.
Wyatt settled down on the step beside Emily, leaning back on the top step. Casual and comfortable, at home. The pose accentuated his long legs and broad shoulders. Her mouth went dry and she looked across the yard again to hide her reaction to him. “Will...Dancer really be okay?”
“Yeah, it’ll take time for him to heal, but he’s from pretty tough stock.”
The silence grew long and heavy.
“I—”
“Can—”
They both spoke at once, then laughed. “Ladies first,” he offered.
She nodded and spent a long second wringing her hands, struggling to find the right words. “First, I owe you an apology.”
Wyatt didn’t move, but out of t
he corner of her eye, she saw him turn his head toward her. She knew she couldn’t say what she had to say if she looked at him. “This morning, my clerk, Dianne, gave me an earful. She knows me too well.”
Emily laughed softly, clasping her hands again. “I jumped to conclusions and I accused you of something that’s not...appropriate.” She clasped her hands yet again. She finally looked up at him but couldn’t read his expression. He was listening at least, so she took a deep breath.
“Tonight, the way you helped with Dancer. The care you showed Tyler.” She licked her lips. “It says a lot.”
“Thank you. But why do I get the feeling there’s more?”
She laughed softly. “Because there is?” She cleared her throat. “Normally, when I’m working in family court, I don’t help out with the children’s division. I used to. It used to be my primary job.”
“Used to be?”
“Yeah.” Her mind was filled suddenly with images of William Dean. “But I had a case. A bad one.” She fought for air as the guilt swamped her. Guilt she knew she’d never escape, though she went long stretches where she forgot. Wyatt and Tyler brought it back, front and center.
It must have shown on her face. “Shh.” Wyatt leaned in close to her. “You don’t have to explain.”
“Yes, I do.” She looked away; she couldn’t get through this if she looked at him. “The mother was killed in a car accident. The father was active duty and scheduled to ship out overseas. The boy wanted to finish school here, then join his dad later. They’d agreed to give temporary custody to the boy’s uncle.”
“Wow. A little close to home.”
“Yeah,” she whispered and dared to look over at Wyatt. “That decision was a mistake. A big mistake.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed to put it back in place. “The boy, William, never had a chance. His father died when an IED destroyed his convoy. The boy died after his uncle hit him one time too many.”
Carefully, Wyatt reached over and curled his big hand around her fist. She hadn’t even realized she’d squeezed her hand so tight. He slowly uncurled her fingers and wove them with his.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Me, too. I try not to let it influence my judgment.”
“But?”
“But it does. At least it did in this case.”
“Are you sure?” He leaned close. “Or did it just make you more cautious? I can appreciate that.”
Wyatt’s understanding words touched her and surprised her. She couldn’t speak. He was close, so close she could see the details of his face even in the dim light. The lashes that rimmed his blue eyes, the dark whiskers that covered his strong jaw and cheeks, his lips. Lips that hovered so close.
“Why did you kiss me last night?” She hadn’t really meant to bring that up, but since it was out there, she wanted to know.
“I told you, you looked like you needed it.”
She pinned him with a glare. “That was the first time. You told me that. What about the second one?”
He didn’t move, but met her glare. “That one, I needed.” He leaned closer and while she knew she should back away, the longing to lean in was stronger. Somewhere in the back of her mind, warning bells were going off. They faded into nothing as he reached up and cupped her chin with his big, rough hand.
Emily closed her eyes, taking in the faded scent of him, the barn and the night. Her mind turned off. All the thoughts she could never escape vanished.
The strength of his shoulders under her hands comforted and drew her. She could easily lean on him, trust him.
A noise inside the house, distant but real, made Emily start. Suddenly, she felt a million eyes on them. Tyler? Chet? Every hand in the bunkhouse?
What was wrong with her? Her cheeks flushed. This wasn’t why she’d come out here, was it? She refused to answer herself on that one.
She jumped away, nearly stumbling as she hurried across the night-blanketed yard toward her car. Toward escape. What was she thinking! Wyatt probably thought she was nuts. But what else was new? The man had seen her at her worst over the past couple weeks. Heck, other than in the courtroom, he’d never seen her at her best.
Away from the lights of the house, the night air, thick with early-summer humidity and the sound of the night bugs closed around her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been outside like this. She usually headed home after work, made a quick dinner then climbed into bed, exhausted. She’d forgotten how much she liked evenings.
Voices drifted up from the barn. Chet and Walt she vaguely identified. Other voices, muted and less recognizable, wafted up from the bunkhouse. She knew life on a ranch. She knew the men wouldn’t be up late. Dawn would get them out of their beds. She remembered the days before her mother had remarried, when they’d stayed out at Granddad’s.
“You running from me? Or yourself?”
She hadn’t heard Wyatt follow her, but she wasn’t surprised. He wouldn’t let her go without some type of explanation. What could she say? The broad arms of the oak gave her an artificial escape and she slowed her steps. She ducked under the shadow-making branches. She wasn’t hiding, not really. Was she?
He waited outside the shadows, the white yard light falling over him. She moved slowly, finally leaning back against the rough bark, watching him, enjoying the view. Knowing this was a one-of-a-kind night.
She shouldn’t even be here. She knew that. But for some reason, she didn’t care.
“You going to answer me?” he prodded, still not moving.
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know the answer,” she whispered, letting the soft breeze take her nonanswer to him. He didn’t move at first, but then he started walking—slowly—toward her. She’d recognize that loose-hipped gait forever. She could barely see him once he stepped inside the shadows, but she didn’t have to. She felt him next to her. Warm. Alive. Waiting.
CHAPTER TEN
EMILY STARTED TO speak, but Wyatt’s lips silenced her. Surprised, she froze, but only for an instant. Whatever she’d been about to say disappeared. She could lie to the world all she wanted, but she knew she wanted this, wanted him.
The tree bark dug into her back, but that soon vanished as Wyatt pulled her into his arms. The solidness of him seemed nearly as strong as the tree.
Beneath her palms, she felt the contours of his chest. Sliding her arms up, heat engulfed her as she dug her fingers into the soft hair at the nape of his neck.
Emily had dated sporadically, even seriously once in college, but none of those experiences had prepared her for this. This kiss was strong and deep and overwhelming. She couldn’t get enough.
When the kiss ended, Wyatt didn’t move away. His hold tightened.
“Just so we’re clear.” His voice was deep, raspy with desire. “This is about you and me. Not Tyler. Not your job. There’s no hidden agenda here.”
Emily tried to see his eyes through the shadows, tried to read his thoughts. “I—”
“Nope.” He ran a work-roughened finger over her lips and all coherent thought flew away. “You think too much.” Wyatt leaned in closer, his hands cupping her face. “Don’t think.” His lips brushed hers. “Just feel.”
This kiss went deeper, his tongue gently prodding until she opened for him. She sighed, the sound never reaching the night air.
She felt the rough calluses as his hand slid down the column of her neck, then down her spine to the small of her back. With a little pressure, he guided her hips tight up against the hard evidence of his arousal. Another groan, this one louder, filled the night air.
Emily ached to curl into him. His strength was something she coveted, his determination something she admired. He sent emotions rolling through her, wonderful, good emotions. Like nothing she’d ever felt before.
Under the cover of the branch
es and the blanketing shadows that wrapped around them, she felt safe.
She stopped thinking, letting his touch guide her. Her breath came in quick bursts, and he breathed harder, too. He moved his mouth away from hers, tracing the line of her jaw and neck. The rush of his hot breath on her bare skin sent shivers of anticipation along her spine.
“Wyatt,” she whispered.
“Don’t tell me, I know.” He took a final taste of the soft curve of her shoulder before pushing the fabric of her blouse back into place. She hadn’t even realized he’d released the top button to give him better access. The air was cool on her skin as he leaned back and tried to button it up with trembling fingers.
She wanted to scream, “No, don’t stop.” The words nearly tumbled loose. She caught herself leaning toward him instead of away. She couldn’t stop from resting her forehead against his shoulder, gathering her courage to face him again.
He didn’t give her much chance, as his hand gently nudged her chin. “Don’t hide from me.”
She accepted his challenge and fought from falling into the sparkle in his eyes. “I’m not,” she denied.
He laughed and gently kissed her forehead. He pulled her back into his arms, her open blouse forgotten as he simply held her. He rested his chin on top of her head, taking in a deep breath before he spoke. “There’s no such thing as privacy around here.” He didn’t exactly apologize, which she was grateful for.
“That’s not what I came out here looking for.” She needed to regain control. But the pounding of her heart and the flush of heat racing through her entire body told her that wasn’t happening anytime soon.
“Why did you come out here? I know it wasn’t just to apologize—you could have just called.”
She tried to make her brain think. “You said to come and stay for more than an hour.” She’d always secretly wondered what other families were like, knowing hers wasn’t normal. And he had offered her a glimpse into his world, a world so different from what she’d known growing up.
Wyatt was the first to step away, though she could tell it wasn’t easy. He shoved his fingers—the fingers that had just been caressing her—through his hair. He paced to the edge of the shadows, looking back at the house, ablaze with light.
