Emily's Cowboy (2 page)

“Dad, if I had a dollar for every time you said that, we could retire to some waterfront mansion on the Gold Coast.” She laughed, her mood slightly better, her memories back under control, locked away in that safe place usually only opened late at night when she was alone in her room. “You do what you want, Dad. Use quads, stick with the horses…gee, buy a helicopter for all I care, as long as you are happy and we get the work done. It’s your farm.”

“Rubbish, Em. This is as much your farm as it is mine, especially now…with Gareth leaving you and all. I’ll never understand that boy—so selfish…”

“Dad,
stop!
I’ve told you a million times it wasn’t like that. I sent Gareth away. I just didn’t want the same things as he did anymore. It was not his fault. You need to remember that.
It was me
.” Emily was shouting at her father, she knew she was, but she could not stop, could not lower her voice. Her emotions were out of control. It was too soon after the agony of watching him play—the teasing close-ups of his face had just added to her pain, reminding her of what she could not have.

“Okay, Emily, no need to shout. It’s a father’s right to place blame on everyone but his own children. I know you hurt. Hell, you miss him—a blind man could see that. You never leave the farm, never even talk to anyone but me and the workers. If what you say is true, and you sent him away, why haven’t you moved on, girlie? I’m getting old, hoped to have some grandchildren to bounce on me knee someday. You’re not going to break the dreams of your old man, are you, Em?”

Even though her father winked, spoke in a teasing manner, a barb struck directly into Emily’s heart.

“Dreams are not always meant to come true, Dad. That’s why they’re dreams. Maybe you can harass Dyl. He’s older than me, anyway, and I just don’t think I’m cut out for motherhood.”

Emily ignored the shocked look that had appeared on her father’s usually smiling face. She took up a shovel and fiercely attacked the dirty hay in the stall she was in, hoping that her father would take the hint and leave the subjects of Gareth and grandchildren alone. Emily would not be bringing any children into this world—not now she wouldn’t be sharing any with Gareth, and certainly not any that would have to deal with the embarrassment of having a monster for a mother.

Chapter Two

“Ooh… You’re Gareth Andrews! You play for the Jets.”

The high-pitched female voice screamed in his ear as the woman spilt her drink over his shirt. God, he hated groupies, wished they would just leave him be. Gareth tried a smile but only managed a grimace in the squealing woman’s direction as he wiped at his wet shirt with the napkin he’d picked up from the bar he stood at. All he had wanted was to be served his beer, but now he had to deal with this.

“Yep, that’d be me. Nice to meet you, love, but I’m not looking for any company right now,” he replied quickly, gruffly. He had found that directness was the best option when dealing with this sort of unwanted attention. After dropping the soggy paper towel back on the bar and retrieving his change from Mick the barman, Gareth grabbed his beer. He spun on his heel and made a quick retreat to the private area that Mitch ‘Rook’ Harris had set up in his nightclub, Jetstream, for his fellow Jets teammates.

Gareth could see that the area was full tonight after the team’s—
his
team’s—latest victory. All the usual suspects were in attendance. Coach Brodie James and his wife, Caitlin. Assistant coach Jon ‘JT’ Thomson, taking up a lot of space with his gigantic presence, and Mandy. Most of his fellow teammates—guys like Deano, Mark, Joseph, Josh and their significant others—all mingled about, enjoying themselves. Gareth greeted them all with a nod before quickly moving to join the one person in the city he felt closest to—the Jets’ physiotherapist, Phillipa Rogers, Pippa to her friends.

“Hey, Cowboy! Caught some attention at the bar tonight, I see.” Pippa’s friendly teasing at his ordeal made him smile—a genuine smile. She understood his discomfort at the notoriety that came with playing first grade rugby league. She knew the story of his broken heart, his longing for the girl he had left behind, his Emily. It wasn’t long ago that she had shared that connection with him, had had a longing of her own, but that was all sorted out now that she and Rook had officially become a couple, after years of secretly yearning for each other. They had even announced their engagement, started planning a wedding.

“Give it a rest, Pippa. It’s your fault, you know. Before you and Rook patched things up I had you to protect me, keep me safe and out of the clutches of the marauding groupies. You left me defenceless, a poor country boy naïve to the demands of the forward city womenfolk.”

“Oh, poor Gareth, my heart bleeds for you, mate.” Gareth heard the familiar sound of Rook’s voice behind him. “Men the world over would kill for your problems. Don’t blame my woman for abandoning you. Find your own to save you from the groupies—this one’s mine.”

“Yeah, Rook, I know…first world problems. Still can’t believe she picked you over me. You’re getting on in years, buddy, and yet here I am still in the prime of my life. Maybe I’m still hoping to win her over for a bit of pity love.”

Gareth gave Pippa a wink, letting her know he was only joking. Gareth was well aware that Pippa loved Rook, had for years, and there was no way in hell she was letting Rook go now she had him. Anyway, Gareth—even after three long, lonely years—had still not been able to push Emily from his heart. He had at one time, briefly, thought he could make a go of loving Pippa, but had only been kidding himself, mistaking friendship for something more. It had probably been more a case of trying to ease the hurt Pippa had been suffering over the whole Rook thing. That was in the past, just like his Em should be. Gareth did enjoy winding up his captain and Jets’ halfback, though, and amusingly he nearly always got a jealous reaction from his friend. Gareth was not disappointed this time, either, as Rook glared at him.

“Fuck you, Gareth. Pippa’s mine and you keep your bloody hands off her.”

“Gareth, Mitch, stop it. Mitch, he is just getting a reaction from you. You know it’s not like that between us. You will always be my fantasy man, Mitchell Harris, and you know it.” Pippa pinched Gareth on the arm in retaliation for his teasing of her beloved fiancé.

“Ouch, that hurt, Pippa.” It hadn’t really, but Gareth played along with the conversation, enjoying the banter, the connection to those around him, in the hope that he could banish the loneliness that had haunted him since his move from the country to the big city.

He had given some thought to accepting the advances of one of his female fans just so he could feel some human comfort, block out those feelings of loneliness, but it never felt right. Gareth didn’t feel comfortable using a woman that way, knowing that any lover he took to his bed would be just a poor substitute for the one he really wanted.

Gareth could hardly believe that he had been celibate for so long. It had to be over three years since he had last made love to Emily. That last memory was bittersweet in his mind. The pleasure of her body under his, the feel of her hot, moist pussy surrounding his cock, her skin soft to his touch, her breasts full, her nipples hard. The taste of her juices haunted him to this very day. He craved them, could still remember her flavour on his tongue, an addiction he could not cure, no matter how he tried.

The pointlessness in holding on to those memories of her was never far from his mind. She’d ripped out his heart by sending him away. Emily had tried to make him believe that she didn’t love him anymore, didn’t want him or the plans and dreams they had spoken of so often. But Gareth knew it hadn’t been that—it had been her inability to face what had happened to her, to ignore the scars that marred her body, the marks that were a testament to her bravery. He had not seen them as she had. Gareth had hardly noticed the burns at all, but that was all Emily had seen. Even when she hadn’t been looking in a mirror, she’d seen them in her mind, and even though Gareth loved her more than anything and everything on this earth, his love hadn’t been enough for Emily. It hadn’t been enough to convince her she was his. She was beautiful. She was allowed to be happy and have all the dreams that they had planned.

So instead of sharing the life they had planned together, both he and Emily remained alone and apart.

“Earth to Cowboy… Come in, Cowboy…”

“Eh, what? Did you say something, Pippa? I was miles away.”

“Yeah, I got that impression…and I can guess where. Mitch has gone to the bar to get you another beer, said something about saving you from the attention of your adoring fans. Gareth, seriously, you need to do something about this whole Emily thing. Why don’t you take the advice I was given by someone I love, and just tell her how you feel? What’s the worst that can happen?”

Gareth was a bit shocked that Pippa was using that same advice he had given her right back at him, but he knew in this case, words would not help.

“Pippa, I have told her. Over and over again. I’ve begged and pleaded my case, but it didn’t help…wasn’t enough. The fire damaged more than her skin. It changed her, her spirit. My Emily is gone. She hides behind her scars, uses them to keep us apart. Who knows, maybe I’ve got it all wrong. Could be that deep down it’s just an excuse I’ve dreamt up. Maybe she just doesn’t feel the same way about me anymore. Maybe I need to face up to that. Move on.”

Even saying the words cut deeply. Gareth would never be able to move on. He understood that. He had loved Emily for as long as he’d had memories, could not recall a time when he had not loved her in some way. Could not really remember a time that Emily had not been a part of his life. Their families were neighbours, albeit miles apart, but in the country that was the way it was. The Mackenzie house was the nearest home to the Andrews house. They had grown up together, he and Emily. They were the same age and they had played together, gone to school together. Gareth could even remember the exact moment his body had reacted to hers, male to female, and his feelings of brotherly love had become much, much more.

He recalled noticing over their early teenage years, without a great amount of interest on his part, that Emily’s body was changing, but it was during their eighteenth year, that first time they had swum together after a long, cold winter, that he had really seen her as a temptation, as more than just a friend. The sun had finally been shining and the country heat had been rising with the return of spring, back towards the usual scorching temperatures that the northern areas of New South Wales achieved. They had spent the afternoon on horseback, riding together, checking fences between the two properties, when they’d reached one of the dams their neighbouring properties shared. The attraction of freshening their sweaty bodies in the cool water of the dam had been hard to resist. They had swum together many times, so when Emily had urged her horse in the direction of the water, yelling, “Last one in is a rotten egg!” over her shoulder as she’d taken off at full gallop, Gareth had followed suit. He had jumped from his horse before her and stripped down to his briefs quickly, as he had done many times before, and had raced to the water’s edge, winning the race his only concern. He had thrown himself into the waist-deep water and as he’d broken the surface, then stood shaking his head to clear the water and hair from his eyes, he had caught sight of her.

She had been standing alongside his discarded clothing, had removed her boots and jeans and was clad in her girlie underwear. Her shirt, also removed, had been clutched before her, in front of her chest and she’d had a look of uncertainty about her, a shyness Gareth had never seen in her stance before. He’d stood still, had watched her as her eyes had locked onto his, had seen the slight movement of her hands as the shirt had dropped and fluttered to the ground.

Gareth’s world had altered in that one movement. Altered for all time as his gaze had moved from her face to her body. Her very feminine body.

Emily, wearing just a bra and panties. He had taken in the picture she had presented him. Gone was the familiar, nondescript child’s body he’d been used to seeing and in its place was a beauty he had never imagined. Emily’s breasts had filled the bra, a roundness that reminded him of soft pillows, spilled from the top of each cup. His mouth had gone instantly dry as his thoughts had turned to images of touching the tempting swells, feeling the weight of each perfect, plump breast in his hands. He had been able to imagine how good that feeling would be, fingers and hands by his sides mimicking his thoughts, pumping and clasping at the water. But the vision had not ended there. Gareth, finally managing to drag his eyes from Emily’s plump, round breasts, ran his gaze slowly over the rest of her nearly naked form. A hunger he had not ever felt before consumed him as he took in the sight of her. His Emily.

Her black hair had fallen around her breasts all the way down to her slightly flared hips, caressing her body, outlining her shape, framing her beauty. Gareth had just made out the black covering of hair on her pussy through her white underwear, had imagined that the feel of the covering would be velvety soft to touch. Her legs were long, toned, but still had a feminine softness about them, their shape he’d found for some reason enticing. Her skin had appeared silky and he’d had the urge to run his hands along that smoothness, to caress every inch of her. He’d felt his penis go hard, achingly so, and had been glad he’d stood waist deep in water to conceal his embarrassing new reaction to her. She was Emily, his childhood buddy. Gareth had wondered what was happening to him, why her new shape was making him react in such a way.

“Shit, Em, what happened to you?”

Gareth remembered those eloquent words to this day. He and Emily had laughed about them on many occasions. His lack of subtlety. The fact it had taken so long for him to notice how she had grown from child to woman. It was Emily’s response to his question that had sealed their fate, her shy, timid question that had made his heart race and had him striding from the water to gather her into his arms.