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The Texas Rancher's Vow: The Texas Rancher's VowFound: One Baby

Page 11

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  He seemed equally mesmerized by the sight of her.

  Too late, Jen realized Emmett was standing there, taking it all in.

  “Body language, hmm?” he murmured.

  Matt shot him a puzzled glance. Before he could comment, he noticed the paintings and photographs displayed on the new inspiration wall.

  Surprise turned to shock. Obviously taken aback by the emotional impact, he turned his face away.

  Jen felt a momentary flash of guilt.

  She probably should have warned both men, so they would have had a chance to be prepared.

  Although Emmett seemed to be taking it a little better, for once.

  Nodding a wordless acknowledgment to Jen, Matt turned to his father and continued in a brisk, businesslike tone. “I just got word that a ranch on the Texas-Oklahoma border is putting three hundred head of black Angus up for sale. I put in a bid. They’re ours if we want them. But I want to look them over personally before I finalize the deal.”

  Jen wasn’t surprised by that, given that Matt needed to personally control everything in his orbit.

  Emmett nodded. “When will you be back?”

  He shrugged. “A couple days. Maybe longer.”

  Jen tried not to be disappointed. Even though she’d done her darnedest to avoid him since they had last kissed…

  “Depends on what I find.” Matt continued conversing with his dad as if she wasn’t even in the room.

  Which was good, she thought, sitting down at the drafting table, resuming her sketching. Since she didn’t need to be part of what was clearly a ranch—and family—discussion. And she was not—and would never be—part of the Briscoe clan.

  * * *

  “SORRY ABOUT THAT,” Emmett said, after Matt had left. He strolled toward Jen, his gait slightly off balance. One of his hands was trembling, too.

  The troubling symptoms were back. Jen could not ignore them. “Are you sure you don’t want to see a doctor?” she asked quietly.

  Stubborn as ever, Emmett sank into a chair and clasped his hands together, momentarily quelling the involuntary movement. “What I want is to get the first sculpture commemorating my love for Margarite done as soon as possible.”

  And then what? Jen wondered, torn between dueling loyalties. What would happen if Matt found out she had known about his father’s infirmity and said nothing to warn him? When Matt, she was sure, was probably the only person who could talk sense into his dad. Would she and Matt even remain friends if that happened?

  “And,” Emmett added in a low, warning tone, “for you to keep this confidence.”

  Jen sighed. “You’ve put me in a difficult place.”

  He frowned. “Then I apologize. It does not, however, change my decision. There is no way I am putting Matt through a repeat of what he has already been through with his mother.”

  Jen bit her lip. “Even if it is Parkinson’s disease, there are medicines that can help.”

  Emmett waved off the suggestion. “All they do is delay the inevitable. And sometimes they don’t even do that. I don’t want to be trapped in a body that no longer works. I don’t want to be remembered as an invalid. When people remember me, I want them to think about this.” He pointed to a photo of himself in his younger days. “I want their memories of me to be happy. Not tainted by illness, decline and despair.”

  That ego again.

  Jen let out another breath.

  Emmett stood, continuing his emotional declaration. “And I don’t care if anybody understands that or approves or not. It’s what I want. And what I intend to have. Because I’ve earned it.”

  Jen supposed he had. She rose to her feet, too. Gently touched his arm. “At least promise me you won’t let this go unchecked.”

  Emmett leaned toward her as he headed for the door, allowing her to assist him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, I’m leaving the ranch for a few days, too.”

  To get medical help on the sly, Jen could only hope.

  “Neither Luz nor Scully work on the weekends, so you’ll be on your own as far as meals and anything else goes.”

  Jen smiled. “Not to worry. I can handle being on my own.” In fact, she kind of preferred it that way.

  It was Matt—and her growing feelings for him—that she couldn’t handle.

  * * *

  SEVEN HOURS LATER, Matt and the ranch crew boss faced off. “You don’t need to be here for the roundup, loading and transfer back to the Triple B,” Punchy said with the unstinting directness for which the veteran cowpuncher was famed.

  Matt hesitated. He’d never slacked off before, but his mind wasn’t on his work. He had a feeling the crew boss and all the hands knew it.

  “I realize you and your dad have a guest back at the ranch. It’s okay if you want to be there,” Punchy continued.

  Except his dad had gone to Fort Worth, on unspecified business. Again. Matt grimaced.

  “The boys and I can handle the chore just fine on our own,” Punchy continued with a provoking grin. “Heck, who knows? It might even go faster without you. You being so unusually distracted and all.”

  Matt chuckled, not at all surprised by the facetiously delivered advice. Punchy never danced around the edges of any subject for fear of how his words would be received. “Trying to get rid of me?” Matt asked wryly.

  Punchy wiped the sweat from his brow, then sobered and said, more seriously, “I’m trying to get you to cut yourself a break. You’ve done what needed to be done here. You closed the deal. Maybe it’s time you turned your attention to the home front.”

  Maybe so. Matt knew the cowboys would likely be gone another day. Maybe even two or three. That was a long time for everyone to be away from the ranch, save the hired hand he’d left at the Triple B. “All right.” Matt reluctantly relinquished control of the situation. “But you call me if anything comes up,” he stipulated firmly, “and I’ll head right back.”

  Punchy nodded. “Sure thing, boss.”

  Only problem was, Matt noted in chagrin when he finally got back to the Triple B close to midnight on Saturday, the BMW Jen had been driving was not in the driveway. The house was dark.

  Telling himself he wasn’t all that disappointed, or worried, either, he walked through the air-conditioned house, switching on a light here and there as he went. Because he needed to figure out what was going on, he checked the obvious places—the front hall, his dad’s desk, his own, and finally, the kitchen—for some sort of note as to where she’d gone.

  Nothing.

  Wondering if she had decided to go back to Houston, to see Cy and Celia’s new baby, he headed upstairs for his bedroom, then decided to check the studio first. Might be a clue there.

  Unfortunately, it was as dark and quiet as the rest of the house. He walked in, hit the lights and stopped short.

  Jen had been busy.

  An easel was set up, as well as a workstation for the actual sculpting. But it was the artwork on the walls he had avoided earlier that really captured his attention.

  Glad for the solitude, and the time and privacy to reflect, he moved closer.

  * * *

  “YOU’RE BACK,” JEN murmured, half an hour later.

  Matt turned to face her. He still hadn’t shaved. His curly black hair was as rumpled, his face as tired looking as the rest of him. And yet she was so very glad to see him.

  “Surprised, hmm?” he asked.

  About a lot of things, Jen realized. Including the way she felt when she’d seen his pickup parked in front of the ranch house. Like maybe tonight wasn’t going to be as lonely and depressing as she had expected, after all.

  She moved closer, hands in the pockets of her khaki shorts. “Were you looking for me?”

  Matt continued studying the life-size photographs displayed on the walls. Wordlessly, he nodded, but offered nothing more that would allow her to read his mind.

  Jen sauntered closer, breathing in the masculine scent of him. “Is having all the photos and paintings in here ha
rd for you?”

  He gave an offhand shrug. “It’s your studio.”

  “It’s your home.” Jen paused, not sure what was going on with him. She could see that he was feeling something he wasn’t necessarily inclined to share. “I’m not saying I don’t need them up to do the sculpture, because I do. I have to look at them constantly while I work. But I can do that back at my studio in Austin.”

  Matt’s eyes darkened. “That’s not what my dad wants.”

  This once, what Emmett preferred would have to take a backseat to the needs of his only son. “He wanted to be in on the work in progress,” Jen corrected. “And he thought it would be easier if I was here on the ranch. Only now he’s not here.”

  “And instead, I am.”

  Jen paused, trying not to read too much into Matt’s sudden appearance. She turned her attention to the photograph of him and his mother, the one he had been studying so reverently when she’d walked in. “You really like that picture, don’t you?” It captured the two of them riding horses with Matt about twelve years old.

  A wry smile curved his lips. “It brings back a lot of memories.”

  Jen moved on to the next photo—of a slightly older Matt, again on horseback with his mom. “Did you two go riding a lot?”

  A shadow crossed his face. “Not as much as I would have if anyone had told me the truth about what was going on with her.” He shook his head, adding sadly, “She’d been diagnosed for about a year when this photo was taken.”

  “And you had no idea.”

  “None.” Bitterness edged his tone. “And that really sucks, because had I known that our time to do things like that was limited, I would never have turned down her requests.”

  Jen understood the mixture of grief and guilt. She had struggled with the same. “How often was that?” she prodded, sensing Matt needed to unburden himself to someone.

  He grimaced and shoved a hand through his hair. “It’s hard to remember clearly. At the time I didn’t keep track, but I’m pretty certain I turned her down at least once for every time she asked me to go with her. Maybe more.”

  This, Jen sensed, wasn’t all Matt’s fault. “Your mom knew she was sick, Matt. She could have forced the issue.”

  “She wasn’t like that,” he replied, still brooding over the loss. “All she wanted was for me to be happy. And sometimes, as much as she hated it, that meant me playing a video game, or watching something on TV or going somewhere with my friends, instead of hanging out with her.”

  Jen reached out and touched Matt’s hand. “Even so…you were a kid. I’m sure she understood.”

  Matt curled his fingers around hers. “I should have been told the truth,” he insisted with remorse.

  Just as he should be told the truth about his dad, now. Jen pushed her guilt away. It wasn’t her job to tell him what was going on with Emmett, or get in the middle of this.

  She needed to stay out of it, while still doing everything she could to be the understanding friend Matt needed right now.

  “I’m sorry,” Jen said. She turned and looked into his eyes. “Sorry this brought it all back.” She squeezed his hand, comforting him as best she knew how. “I wish there was something I could do.”

  Matt thought a moment. “Actually, Jen, there is.”

  Chapter Ten

  “What do you think?” Matt asked Jen several hours later.

  She admired the Texas landscape now hanging in the foyer of the ranch house. It depicted the end of a beautiful spring day, with the sun setting in a pink-streaked sky. Rough-and-tumble cowboys of all ages were gathered around a chuck wagon and a nearby campfire. In the distance fields of bluebonnets, cattle and horses stretched as far as the eye could see. “I think it’s perfect.” She turned to Matt. “Looking at it reminds me of everything I love about Texas in general and this ranch in particular.” And being here with you.

  Something about this ranch—something about spending time with Matt—made her feel that all things were possible. Jen didn’t want that feeling to disappear.

  He put the hammer back in the toolbox and shut the lid. Folded the soft cotton quilt that had protected his mother’s painting, and set it on top. “I don’t know why Dad and I ever decided to put these away in the first place,” he admitted quietly.

  Jen thought she knew. “It might have had something to do with wife number two or three or four.”

  Matt reflected in silence. “That’s true. It was when Dad started dating again, almost immediately after Mom died, that her belongings were packed up and put away.”

  Jen stroked Matt’s hand. “Well, they’re back now.”

  He grinned and clasped her fingers in his. “Thanks to you.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

  A thrill slid through her, and she swallowed. “What do you think your dad is going to say?”

  Matt shrugged and let her go. “Given how much he’s been missing my mom lately, I imagine he’ll be as happy as I am to see them.”

  Matt carried the toolbox to the mudroom and set it on the shelf. Returning to the kitchen, he glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Three in the morning!”

  Jen couldn’t believe it, either. She should be exhausted, but wasn’t. “I guess time got away from us.”

  He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I didn’t mean to keep you up half the night.”

  “I enjoyed it.”

  Matt cocked his head, studying her for a long moment. Suddenly, Jen felt as if they were at the end of a date, instead of just an evening spent together accidentally. If they didn’t part company now, she knew there would be consequences. The kind that could break her heart.

  “Well…” She pushed aside her awkwardness, stood on tiptoe and brushed his cheek with a casual, but dismissive kiss. “Good night.”

  Matt flashed her a slow, sexy smile. He stepped into her and looked at her with those brilliant blue eyes. Rooted to the spot, she released a shuddering breath.

  “Let’s try that again.” He fitted her against him.

  “Matt…” Jen warned softly, aware how close she was to forgetting to be rational, and falling head over heels in love with him.

  “Jen…” he said just as quietly, kissing one side of her mouth, then the other.

  She drew another halting breath. I want you so much.

  Matt cupped her face in his hands and then kissed her with all the pent-up emotion of the evening. Sweetly and evocatively, again and again, the tender intensity of the embrace breaking down her resistance and speaking to the woman inside her.

  She knew they were going to make love. If not tonight, then sometime. Because once had not been enough.

  Would never be enough.

  And if that was the case, there was only one way to keep from getting hurt. Accept the inevitable, but on her terms.

  Jen broke off the kiss and buried her face in the warm, solid curve of his neck. Beneath her cheek, she felt the swift throb of his pulse, the scruffiness of his jaw, the warmth of his skin. Lower still, heat…and hardness.

  He stroked a hand through her hair, the sheer patience and understanding of the move sending another thrill shooting through her.

  Knowing he thought this was over, she lifted her head, gazed into his eyes, and suggested in a husky voice, “How about my bed this time?”

  * * *

  MATT DID NOT HAVE TO BE asked twice.

  And although this was not what he had planned, he grinned in pleasure and cupped his hands beneath her hips, lifting her against him so her legs were straddling his waist. Laughing, she kissed his cheek and clasped his shoulders. Exhilarated, he carried her up the stairs, not stopping until they had reached her bed.

  Ever so gently, he set her down in the moonlight pouring in through the windows, switched on the bedside lamp and immediately felt a change. From merely wanting her to something more. Something life changing for both of them.

  Aware that he needed her more than he had ever needed a woman in his life, Matt
gazed into her eyes and pulled her against him. Felt her immediately sink into their shared kiss with a soft sigh. Determined not to let it get out of control or go by too fast, the way it had the first time they’d made love, he slid his hands down her sides, past her breasts, to her waist. He dropped openmouthed kisses on her throat, the sensitive place behind her ear. Satisfaction roared through him when he felt her quiver in response. “You feel so good.”

  Jen kissed his jaw, sounding a little strangled as she dug her fingers into his pecs. “Just. Don’t. Stop.”

  He chuckled, taking that as a very good sign. Still kissing her, determined to give her all the pleasure she deserved, he backed her playfully to the wall. With a soft sigh of acquiescence, she wrapped her arms around him, tugged his shirt free of his jeans and ran her palms up his back. Desire shot through him. The look in her eyes mirrored exactly what he felt.

  Loving the way she responded to him, the way she gave back, he pushed her tank top above her breasts, reached around her to unfasten her bra, and then divested her of both. Her eyes widened in excitement and she gasped as he palmed the soft globes. Her nipples pebbled and her body reacted with tremors, she was so sensitive to his touch.

  Taking that, too, as an excellent sign, he moved his mouth to her breasts, nibbling and suckling, making sure there was nothing he missed. She arched up, pulling him to her.

  “Now, Matt,” she whispered.

  Obliging, he shifted upward to kiss her again, reveling in the womanly feel of her. She rocked against him, her hands sliding over his back, his waist, reaching for his belt, and farther south.

  “So impatient,” he murmured.

  She wriggled her fingers beneath his shorts to cup him, while shooting him a saucy look. “You have no idea….”

  Her cheeks were bright with color. Loving seeing her like this, so reckless and open to everything, Matt let her undress him. Then, needing her naked, too, he tugged off her jeans and panties, and spread her legs wide, making room for his hard sex. Her breath caught when he stroked her, finding her center and the velvety wet heat. She moaned and melted into his body, her tongue tangling with his until he was as lost in the kiss as she was. Then desire drove him to his knees. Jen made another sound that was soft and womanly and…hungry. As ravenous as he. Touching and stroking, kissing and caressing, he figured out the when and the where and the how, building her orgasm, making her his, until she shattered in his arms.

 

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