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

by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Matt ran a hand down her spine, looking playful and intent on making love with her. He rolled her beneath him and pinned her to the mattress once again. “It’s probably just the maid…”

  Jen wished. “This early?” she gasped, body tingling.

  “Which is exactly why she won’t come in,” Matt theorized confidently as he kissed the slope of Jen’s collarbone. “It’s too early to just—”

  “Matt?” a familiar voice commanded from the other side of the door. “It’s important, son. If you’re in there, open up.”

  He swore and jerked to a sitting position. As did she.

  “I can’t locate Jen,” Emmett continued, in obvious concern.

  Mortified, she bolted from the bed, grabbing her dress, bustier and thong as she dashed into the marble bathroom.

  Her face burning, she shut the door—ever so quietly. Immediately grabbed a robe and shrugged it on.

  Jen heard the door to the hotel room open and then close.

  Oh, God, where were her shoes? Were they alone enough to indict her?

  “You could have called,” Matt told his father, sounding really annoyed.

  “I tried. Repeatedly. You had the privacy setting on the room, and your cell was going straight to voice mail.”

  Vaguely, Jen recalled shutting off both their cell phones after the first time she and Matt had made love. Quietly, she picked up a brush and ran it through her hair, but there was nothing she could do about the chapped state of her lips, or the whisker burns on her cheek. Or the fact that she looked like she had just spent a wild, reckless night making love to the man who had fought for her honor. And won…

  On the other side of the door, Matt was saying grumpily, “That’s because we kept getting a wrong number in the middle of the night.”

  Someone, Jen recalled dimly, had partied too hard and been a little too “happy” to dial correctly.

  “We?” Emmett rumbled, immediately picking up on Matt’s slip of the tongue.

  A long pause followed.

  Jen winced, knowing the jig was up.

  “Was Jen in here with you?” Emmett demanded, clearly shocked by their recklessness. “Is she still in here with you?”

  “Dad…” Matt’s voice had a warning tone.

  Not about to let him face his father alone, when she was just as responsible for this, Jen opened the door.

  Emmett, who had been pleased about the idea of a romance between the two of them, was not pleased to find that she had spent the night with Matt in a hotel room, when she had her own private quarters just down the hall.

  “So it’s true?” Emmett looked at Matt’s bruised fist with a critical eye. “You were in a brawl last night, too?” His voice dripped with disgust.

  Trying not to think about another father who had been similarly upset over his son’s involvement with her, Jen swallowed. This wasn’t like her marriage. It wasn’t the same at all.

  And yet the end result was exactly the same.

  “A couple of punches isn’t exactly a brawl,” Matt argued.

  Emmett scowled. “It’s the only thing people are talking about after the gala last night. I had several emails and texts before I even went down to breakfast.”

  Jen wasn’t surprised about that.

  It had been the only hint of real drama in an otherwise cordial but serene evening. Most had also felt—as Matt had—that Vince had had it coming to him, and had applauded Matt for having the guts to finally set the obnoxious rancher back on his heels.

  “I have to say,” Emmett continued sternly, “I’m disappointed.”

  No kidding, Jen thought, picking up on the slight tremor in Emmett’s left hand. She hadn’t seen him look this upset with his son…well, ever.

  Worse, she knew the fight would not have happened if Vince hadn’t been coming on to her. Or if she had managed to extricate herself from the ugly situation sooner.

  Instead, worried about causing a scene and embarrassing everyone, she’d tried to wait him out, in the vain hope that Vince would desist and go away on his own.

  Emmett slipped his hand in his back pocket and stared at Matt. “Your mother and I raised you to be a gentleman.” Mouth tightening, Emmett gestured at the hotel room and the very rumpled covers on the king-size bed. “Obviously, you’ve given no thought to Jen’s reputation….”

  My reputation, Jen thought cynically, is the least of it. What she was really worried about was being the wedge that drove Matt and his dad even further apart. And then there was the stress of it all, and what it might do to Emmett’s already admittedly fragile physical state.

  Was one of his knees trembling slightly, too?

  “If you had,” Emmett continued, “you’d be focused on giving her a proper courtship, getting her to marry you…instead of diminishing her and yourself with an illicit tryst….”

  Was that all it had been? Jen wondered. Was she the only one here who had found the entire encounter with Matt highly romantic and emotionally satisfying?

  “Yeah, well…” He remained focused on his father’s face. “I’m not like you, Dad,” he retorted bitterly, clearly stinging from the irate dressing-down. “I don’t hold on to romantic ideals that stopped being relevant years ago.”

  “Meaning?” Now Emmett looked like he wanted to punch somebody out, Jen thought.

  “Meaning,” Matt growled, “I don’t have to be married to have sex with someone. Or, like you, foolishly marry and then divorce every woman I want to have sex with!”

  “Maybe you should. At least then you wouldn’t be damaging a woman’s reputation.”

  “I really should not be here,” Jen said, meaning it with all her heart. It was awful, being caught between the two quarreling Briscoe men.

  Her intended departure brought them up short. Matt and his dad flushed guiltily.

  “No. I’m the one who should have been more circumspect…. I know my son. I know how he thinks.”

  Emmett had known, Jen thought, that Matt was interested in her and would go after her.

  “I’m sorry for intruding,” the other man said stiffly.

  Jen held up a hand. The hallmark of any strong family was the ability to say you were sorry—and mean it—and then move on together, determined to do better in the future.

  Like it or not, agree or not, this had been a huge misstep on all their parts.

  “I’m sorry there was something for you to intrude on, Emmett. It was never my intention to do anything to embarrass you,” Jen said quietly. The senior Briscoe had been nothing but kind to her. And he was giving her a huge opportunity, artistically. There was no way she could bear a grudge. Especially when she knew all Emmett had been trying to do was protect her.

  “I owe you more than that,” she added.

  Emmett’s expression gentled, then turned serious once again. “How about I go down to the lobby and wait for you there? As soon as you’re ready, I have something very important to show you both.”

  Hoping there would be at least one mystery solved, Jen asked, “Is this what you’ve been spending all your time on?” What kept taking him away from the ranch—and his son?

  Emmett nodded. “It’s essential you see this today,” he declared.

  But typically, Jen noted, he offered nothing more.

  Matt and his father exchanged terse glances. Truce called—albeit reluctantly—Emmett stated, “I’ll be waiting for you,” and left the room.

  Matt turned to Jen, his own frustration unabated. She knew how he felt. If she could only erase the last half hour of their lives, and all the humiliation and upheaval that had gone with it… The new uncertainty it had caused…

  Because now, like it or not, she was reevaluating her relationship with Matt.

  She’d thought no one would get hurt.

  Clearly that was wrong.

  Emmett was hurt.

  Matt was upset.

  And she was thrown completely off-kilter, too. To the point that neither she nor Matt knew what to say to each o
ther.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face, and grimaced when he touched his sullen jaw. “I’m sorry, Jen. So sorry. That whole thing—”

  Had ruined their wonderful, romantic, passionate interlude.

  She held up a hand, wanting only for the unease between them to end. “You don’t need to apologize to me, Matt.”

  She sympathized. She knew how awful it was to be humiliated by a parent. Being treated like an errant teen who had no idea of the consequences was even worse. “What happened just now was embarrassing for all of us.”

  Matt studied her. “You don’t seem mad at my dad.”

  How could she be, Jen wondered, when all Emmett had really been trying to do was keep her from getting hurt?

  What he hadn’t understood was how enthusiastically she had signed on for this affair. Even knowing she and Matt weren’t suited for each other, long term, and that the relationship was destined to end.

  Jen struggled to keep her own attitude matter-of-fact. “Your dad reacted emotionally, Matt. It happens.” She shrugged. “He wants to move on from that, and I think we should, too.”

  But Matt couldn’t let it go. Regarding her carefully, he stepped closer. “Still, what I said about Dad’s old-fashioned attitude toward marriage—”

  Jen knew what a sore point that was between the two men.

  Not ready to be touched, not yet, Jen slipped by Matt and moved back toward the bathroom. Standing just out of sight, she slipped on her undies and then her dress. Walking back out, she turned and lifted her hair so he could help her with the zipper. “I know what point you were making to your dad, and it’s a valid one. I understand what upheaval that attitude has brought to your lives.” Jen tried not to quiver as Matt’s hands brushed her bare skin as he zipped her gown. “Divorce is awful under the best of circumstances. Your dad has been through three, since your mother’s death, and by extension, so have you. It makes sense you’d be wary of it.” Jen found her purse and rummaged through it for her hotel room entry card. “Heck, I’m wary of it,” she joked weakly, “and I’ve only been divorced once!”

  His expression sober, Matt walked her as far as the door. He paused, hand on the portal just beside her head, and looked determined to have his say before she left. “It still came out sounding all wrong.”

  Jen tilted her head back and pushed away the tantalizing image of Matt making love to her. Of her worshipping him in return. Keeping track of the conversation with effort, she murmured, “You don’t have to marry me to sleep with me.” Although it would be nice if you loved me…just a little bit.

  Matt lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “It sounded like I was using you.”

  And if I was honest, I would admit I was using you, too—because it felt good to be close to someone, to be wanted and needed, even if only in bed.

  “We had an agreement, Matt,” Jen reminded him, tightening her fingers in his. “To take things one day at a time.”

  He nodded, not taking his eyes off her, then leaned down to kiss her temple. “And we need to discuss that. Soon,” he promised firmly.

  Jen pushed away the little tendril of hope that Matt might secretly want more than they’d agreed upon, just as she did. “But not while your father is downstairs in the lobby, waiting on us,” she said.

  A discussion like that would take time. And time was something they did not have.

  * * *

  “DAD, YOU CAN’T PARK HERE,” Matt said half an hour later, still looking as on edge as Jen felt. “It’s a no-parking zone,” he continued as Emmett angled his luxurious SUV against the curb in front of a very elegant, white Southern mansion several blocks north of Sundance Square.

  Emmett shrugged off the advice with his typical ego. “No one is going to tow my Escalade.” He got out a little stiffly and walked around the front of the vehicle.

  With relief, Jen noted the hand that had been trembling this morning was perfectly still now. She didn’t want Emmett to be ill.

  “Besides,” he continued expansively, “we aren’t going to be here that long.”

  Jen hurried to keep up with the two tall men’s long strides. After a quick shower and a change of clothes, she felt so much better. “Why are we here?” she asked.

  Emmett beamed proudly. “I want to show you the home of my new museum.”

  Matt and Jen blinked in tandem. “Your what?” Matt asked.

  Emmett adjusted the brim of his Stetson. “I finalized the sale yesterday. That’s why I wasn’t at the gala. I was busy negotiating terms and signing papers.”

  “Museum,” Matt repeated, scrubbing a hand over his face.

  Emmett paused to unlock the mansion door. “I’m going to renovate it and establish an art museum here, in my own name, similar to the Amon Carter and Sid Richardson museums.” He pushed open the door to the empty residence and ushered them inside.

  The wood floors were in terrible shape, as were the elaborate woodwork and walls. But the neglect was all cosmetic and could be fixed.

  Emmett escorted them through the big, airy rooms with their twelve-foot ceilings, then paused to lean against the carved oak banister of the broad staircase.

  He suddenly seemed a little winded, but that could be due to the excitement he was feeling and the swiftness with which he had conducted the tour, Jen thought.

  Still beaming, Emmett stated, “I’m going to showcase all of Margarite’s work, as well as Jen’s sculptures commemorating my life. Not to mention up-and-coming Texas artists who also specialize in Western art.”

  Jen was stunned. So was Matt.

  This was more than she ever could have expected. Or even knew what to do with.

  “Eventually, the museum will be self-supporting, with gift shop sales, but…” Emmett paused as a flashing light on the street caught their attention.

  Matt said a few choice words at the sight of a Fort Worth police car next to the Escalade, a tow truck pulling up right beside it. Muttering a salty equivalent of I told you this would happen, he rushed outside, calling, “I’m going to try to talk you out of a ticket.”

  As soon as the door closed, Jen looked at Emmett, who had taken off his hat and was hiding a trembling left hand beneath the brim. “Your symptoms are worse.”

  For once, he didn’t try to downplay it. He sat down heavily on the stairs and tried to hide the twitching in his right hand, too. “Which is why I’ll soon be leaving, and finishing this museum will be up to you,” he told Jen.

  She couldn’t believe he was serious! “You can’t do this. You can’t go off and leave your son.”

  Emmett dug in stubbornly, as his hand twitched all the more. “I told you, I am not going to saddle Matt with the ordeal of nursing another parent through a long and horrible illness. He deserves a happy life, free of that kind of heartache.” The older man lumbered unsteadily to his feet to make his point. “He loves you. And you love him…I see that now.” Emmett paused, his eyes glistening moistly. “You’ll make him happy, Jen.” His voice dropped to a husky rasp. “The alternative won’t.”

  Behind them, the front door opened and Matt walked in. “What alternative?” he asked with a frown, immediately picking up on the fact that he had missed something important.

  And once again Jen was faced with the prospect of either shutting him out, or finally spilling the truth.

  * * *

  MATT STARED AT JEN. He saw dread flicker in her eyes once again, and any doubts he had about her innocence fled. “You know something about all this, don’t you?” About whatever it was his father was keeping from him. “Something more than what Dad just told us.”

  Jen went very still. “I just found out about the museum.”

  Matt knew evasion when he heard it. So it hadn’t been his imagination! The two of them were keeping secrets, deliberately shutting him out. “Was this museum all your idea?” Was she in it for the money? The fame? The power to help other new and struggling artists?

  None of this squared with what he knew—what he tho
ught he knew—to be true about Jen.

  Visibly shocked and hurt, she laid a hand over her heart. “No. Of course not.”

  Matt studied the flush of pink in her cheeks, the difficulty she still had meeting his gaze, and knew she was guilty of something. “Then what’s going on? And don’t try and tell me nothing, because I can tell that something is!”

  Jen’s shoulders stiffened defensively and she fell silent. And most damning of all, his own father wouldn’t look him in the eye, either!

  Instead, Emmett gazed out the window to where the policeman stood, still tapping his foot, the tow truck hovering nearby. “I’m going to collect my SUV and head on home,” he announced hurriedly. “You two stay and enjoy yourselves for the rest of the weekend, as originally planned.”

  He slapped his hat on his head, grabbed his car keys from his pocket and rushed out the front door. Matt watched as his father paused to thank the policeman for not writing a ticket, then climbed into the Escalade and drove away.

  Silence fell between them. Jen looked around, as eager to be out of there as Emmett had been.

  But there were two problems, Matt and Jen realized simultaneously. “Great,” he fumed. “Dad left us without transportation.”

  She reached for her cell phone. “And a key to the mansion so we could lock up.”

  Matt covered her hand with his. “Forget that. We have more important things to discuss.”

  Jen lifted a brow, wary and on edge once again.

  He edged closer, stunned by the depth of his feelings for her. “I am tired of being shut out of this secret, whatever it is.” Tired of being on the outside, looking in.

  Jen lifted a palm, and a shadow of regret crossed her face. “You need to talk to your dad about this.”

  “I’m talking to you, Jen,” Matt said, his resentment building.

  She gave him a chiding look. “I told you before. I don’t want to be in the middle of any disagreements between you and your dad.”

  Matt hated feeling so paranoid. “You already are.”

  Silence fell and distress glittered in her eyes.

  Realizing his father was somehow to blame for her conflicted state, Matt clenched his jaw. “I’m tired of being left out in the cold, Jen. Tell me what’s going on.”