One Wild Cowboy (15 page)

Emily knew there was no reason to rush, no need to deny the feelings swirling around in her heart, no reason to worry about tomorrow. The last of her inhibitions melted away; she was in over her head and sinking fast. She reached for him wantonly and drew him toward the bed. “Wherever you want as long as we do everything you want and then some.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he rasped playfully, tumbling her down onto the sheets.

The next thing she knew they were lying on their sides. Emily closed her eyes as he kissed her lazily and worked his way up her thighs. His palms found her as her hands found him. They kissed and caressed until their whole bodies were melting against each other in boneless pleasure.

“Now,” she murmured.

He shifted so she was beneath him.

Then slid lower still.

This wasn't what she meant…but it turned out to be exactly what she needed.

Emily went catapulting over the edge.

Dylan slid between her thighs and surged against her. Emily moaned in response. She wrapped her arms around him and brought her legs up so they were locked around his waist.

Dylan wanted to pretend the two of them weren't meant to be together, long-term, that this closeness would suffice. But he knew it wasn't true, that the promises they had made to each other, to let go and move on when the time was right, were vows they were not going to be able to keep.

Maybe she didn't love him, maybe she never would, but when they were together like this it felt as if they belonged together. And in this instance, Dylan knew, belonging together was enough.

 

I
T WAS LATE MORNING
, when Emily finally awakened to see Dylan stroll into the bedroom, tray in hand. She struggled to a sitting position, unable to help but think how good it felt to be together like this.

Dylan winked as their eyes met. “Since you have the day off…”

Emily moved her eyebrows teasingly in return, murmuring, “Thank heavens for small miracles.” And it did seem like a miracle to be here with Dylan, at his ranch, after a wonderfully exciting and satisfying night of lovemaking.
And
have him bring her breakfast in bed! How had she gotten so lucky? Emily wasn't used to getting what she wanted in the romance department.

Usually, it was anything but.

And that made her uncertain…despite telling herself that given all that had happened recently, she had no reason to be.

Dylan waited for her to adjust the pillows behind her, then set the tray across her lap. “Are you going to be able to hang out here with me today?”

Emily smiled. “I was thinking I could help you with the horses. Maybe bring my mare Maisy over, and have Hercules, you and me all go for a ride.”

“Sounds good. After you ride Ginger, that is.”

Emily paused. “
Really
ride her?”

“I've worked with her a little more. I think she's ready for it now. The question is, are you?”

Was he kidding?
“Wait and see.”

An hour later, Emily was out in the round pen. Dylan brought Ginger in on a lead.

They started the session the way they always did, using the long cloth line to drive Ginger away. Emily constantly moved into Ginger's space, pressuring her at the flanks, gently yet firmly herding her forward.

Finally, when Ginger's head was level, her body nice and relaxed, Emily turned ninety degrees, offering her shoulder. She kept her head down, her body relaxed. As always, Ginger turned and came back toward Emily. She kept walking, quietly praising Ginger all the while.

The mare came closer still.

Lowered her head, bowed to Emily in respect.

Dylan, watching from center of the paddock, walked forward to hold her by the bridle. “I'll attach the reins. You put on the saddle.”

Working like a wellpracticed team, they readied the mustang. And this time, when Emily stepped up into the saddle, Ginger didn't only accept Emily's weight, she seemed to welcome it. She moved cautiously at first, then more and more boldly, until she was trotting around the pen.

From there, they went to a pasture, where a nice trot turned into a canter and then a full-fledged gallop around the perimeter.

When they had finished, Emily couldn't stop grinning.

“Congratulations on a job well done.” Dylan gave her a high five. “We're well on our way to training her.”

Emily beamed. “My family has got to see this!”

The minute the words were out, Emily knew she had made a mistake. Dylan didn't do family drama. Or meetings. Did
that also mean he didn't do family parties? To her relief, whatever reservations he had quickly faded. “Of course your dad is going to want to see this,” he said.

“My mom, too,” Emily added, serious. “You can't really invite one without the other.”

There was a brief hesitation, then Dylan gestured magnanimously. “Whenever you want,” he said with a wide smile.

Taking this for the good sign it was, Emily said, “Tonight?”

Another hesitation, although briefer. Dylan nodded. “Call them right now.”

Emily bounded off. “I will.”

No sooner had Emily gotten off the phone with her parents than the phone rang again.

It was Simone. “You are not going to believe what is happening in Laramie right now!”

 

S
HORT MINUTES LATER
, Dylan and Emily stood side by side at her apartment window, watching the gas, electric and water be cut off to the site.

Xavier Shillingsworth was nowhere in sight during all this, and was still a no-show when the enormous crane moved forward to pick up the Cowtown Diner and lift it over onto the same double-wide tractor-trailer truck it had arrived on.

By late Sunday afternoon, the burnished bronze building was only a memory.

Emily turned to Dylan, “I can't believe they are moving out lock, stock and barrel, just like that.”

Dylan couldn't, either. And yet, with the ongoing investigation closing in and legal action pending… “Customers here weren't going to go back. It was probably a good business decision to move the franchise restaurant to Big Springs.”

Emily squinted. “I'm not sure he'll have any better luck there.”

Dylan shrugged. “You never know. Shillingsworth might have learned something from all this.”

Emily frowned. “One could hope.”

“So about that little get-together at my ranch this evening…” Dylan interjected.

Emily's eyes lit up. “Seven o'clock okay? It shouldn't take long. All I'm going to do is give Ginger a few turns around the round pen for them.”

Dylan found her enthusiasm contagious. “Take as long as you want. You deserve to show off for them.”

She searched his face. “Would it be all right if I invited my brothers, too?”

Dylan knew if he was going to be part of Emily's life, he would have to get used to having her family around, too.

“The more, the merrier,” he said.

“Looks like we're early,” Shane McCabe said.

A good half hour early, Dylan noted, which wouldn't usually have been a problem. He could have easily entertained the horse rancher and his lovely wife, shown them around his property and had a good time doing it.

But that was before he'd begun sleeping with their only daughter.

Recalling his last conversation with Emily's dad, who had warned Dylan not to toy with Emily's feelings, Dylan ushered the couple inside his ranch house.

“Where should we put these?” Greta asked, indicating the four catering-size foil containers bearing her restaurant name.

Dylan relieved Greta of her burden and led the way.

What had started out as a brief horse-training demonstration for Emily's parents had turned into a potluck gathering for her entire family.

Dylan had no experience hosting a crowd. He usually went into town to socialize. He hoped he had enough plates and silverware. Or that someone had thought to bring disposable dinnerware. “I think the best place is the kitchen.”

“I can put these in the oven for you, if you like,” Greta offered.

There was a lot of Emily in her mom, and vice versa. Dylan smiled. “That'd be great. Thanks.”

“So have you given any thought to the offer I made you?” Shane asked.

“I'm honored that you asked me to join forces with you in a nonprofit venture,” he replied.

“But you're turning me down,” Shane said with disappointment.

“I'd like to continue to train mustangs for you. I prefer to do it as an independent contractor.”

Shane pressed, “We could do a lot of good if we founded a mustang sanctuary. We could take any wild horses that ranchers rounded up, train them and see they went to good homes.”

“We can do that now without legally joining forces.”

Shane studied Dylan for a long moment, and an awkward silence filled the room.

Greta moved to the window. “I think I heard another car,” she said, slipping out.

“Is this because of my daughter?” Shane asked, up-front as ever.

As long as they were being candid… “Did you ask me because of your daughter? Because you were trying to somehow bring me into the fold?”

“McCabes don't just help family,” Shane responded kindly. “They also help friends and neighbors.”

Determined to learn the truth, Dylan said, “That's not really answering my question.”

Shane folded his arms in front of him. “Are you involved with Emily, this pretend-dating business aside?”

Dylan hesitated. This was not a discussion he should be having with Emily's father until after he'd had it with Emily. “I don't know how to answer—”

“And you shouldn't have to,” Emily interrupted.

Dylan and Shane turned in unison.

Dressed in jeans, boots and an embroidered turquoise shirt, she looked prettier than Dylan had ever seen her. Angrier, too.

Emily strode forward, blue eyes flashing. “I'm not a child, Dad.”

Shane straightened, his need to protect his daughter unabated. “I never said you were.”

Emily stabbed the air with her finger. “Every action you, mom and my brothers take says you all think I need protecting.”

“Honey, you're our only daughter,” Greta cut in.

“I'm a grown woman.” Emily stood next to Dylan and linked arms with him. “And I deserve one heck of a lot more respect than you are showing me right now.”

Before anyone else could say anything, Jeb and Holden appeared in the doorway. “Hey, sis!” Jeb said jubilantly. “When are we going to see the amazing demonstration?”

Her cheeks still pink with indignation, Emily muttered, “As soon as everyone is here.”

As if on cue, the doorbell rang. More McCabes arrived, along with Andrew and Simone and Bobbie Sue and Billy Ray. The commotion in the kitchen increased as everyone brought their dinner contributions into the house.

Happy to have the tense family drama between Emily and her parents cut short, Dylan escaped the calamity and headed off to get the mustangs ready.

When Emily came out to the barns, with her gaggle of devotees streaming out around her, her mind seemed solely on the task ahead. Dylan forced himself to do the same.

Ginger, Salt and Pepper all performed as admirably as Dylan and Emily had hoped. The two younger horses—who were not big or strong enough to be ridden yet—went through their training exercises with ease.

Emily was clearly ecstatic. As was Dylan.

She ended the demonstration of the three-year-old mare's prowess with a solo canter around the pasture.

Dylan was as proud of Emily—and the work she had done—as he was of the horses. And he wasn't the only one. Her family whistled, clapped and shouted their approval as she came back to dismount and take her bows. For the first time, Dylan began to understand the allure of being a McCabe. The support they offered, the expression of love was unbelievable.

“So what's next?” Jeb asked.

“We test them to see if they've bonded to us—become part of our ranch family—as much as it appears they have,” Dylan explained.

Further questions were cut off as another car sped up the lane and stopped short of them. Dylan swore as the male behind the wheel cut the engine and got out. This was exactly what they did not need.

 

E
MILY KNEW
it was Dylan's ranch, but Xavier was only there because of her. She put up a hand before Dylan could intervene.

“I'll take care of this.” She handed off Ginger's reins to Jeb and she walked toward the interloper. Silence fell.

Shillingsworth handed her a thick manila envelope.

“A parting gift.” Xavier smirked as if he still held the high card.

Knowing forewarned was forearmed, Emily took it reluctantly and undid the clasp. Inside was a thick folder bearing the name of a private investigator. “What is this?” she snapped.

He stared at her, his expression ugly. “A complete dossier on your friend there.”

Emily stiffened. “I already know all about Dylan.”
At least the parts that are important…

Xavier gestured expansively and said even louder, “Then you also know he is one of the Texas Reeves. The railroad tycoon.”

Emily turned to Dylan. On the surface, his expression was as inscrutable as usual. In his eyes, she could see a burning anger.

“Normally, that'd be a good thing.” Xavier spoke to the crowd as if lecturing a class. “If the family acknowledged him, that was. Unfortunately, they do not.”

Aware the ranch yard was so silent you could hear a pin drop, Xavier rubbed his jaw and continued. “I couldn't understand it until I went to see his grandfather myself.” He shook his head. “You ought to see the fabulous mansion they live in. Anyway, I told the old man all about Dylan—where he was living, what he was doing, that he was trying to work his way into the famous McCabes by romancing one of their daughters.”

Emily broke in pointedly. “That sounds more like your plan.”

Xavier ignored her. “The old man didn't care. He said that it didn't matter who Dylan eventually married. Dylan was always going to have his father's white-trash blood, and that to hear about his grandson only reminded the old man of the way his own daughter ruined the family name by giving birth to a bastard that was no better than the lowlife that sired him—”

Emily didn't know where it came from. She had never been violent in her life. But suddenly the file folder was dropping to the ground and her hand was flying through the air.

Her fist connected with Xavier's jaw. To her disappointment, she didn't seem to hurt the obnoxious spoilsport a bit.
She did shut him up momentarily, however, as everyone stared on in shock.

It was then that Dylan stepped in, cool, calm and collected as ever.

“Emily, why don't you take everyone inside?” Dylan suggested, a dangerously civil edge to his low tone. “I'll escort this
gentleman
to his car.”

Equally tense and irritable looks were exchanged all around. Evidently confident Dylan could handle it, they all complied with Dylan's request.

Only Emily remained.

Dylan looked at her. “Go inside, Emily,” he repeated.

Dylan hadn't talked to her in that unwelcoming a tone since the first day she had shown up, asking him to pretend to be her date for the evening. Her lips parted in shock.

Xavier grinned triumphantly, pleased at the rancor his unexpected appearance had created.

“Right now,” Dylan commanded.

Emily didn't want to leave, his tone brooked no argument. Heart pounding, spirits sinking, she turned on her heel and stomped off.

 

“Y
OU'RE NOT
good enough for her.”

Dylan picked up the papers and shoved them into Shillingsworth's hands. “So you said, several times.”

Ignoring the danger he was in, Shillingsworth thrust out his jaw pugnaciously. “Her family may try to bring you into the fold, but at the end of the day, everyone knows you can't make a silk purse out of a sow's ear, and they'll cut you loose, too—the same way your biological family severed ties.”

Dylan wanted to say the McCabes weren't like that.

He knew different.

They loved their daughter and wanted only the best for her.

They wanted all the things he didn't know how to give her. Like the foundation—through generations of example—for a good solid marriage and a happy family.

A husband who had a background she could be as proud of as her own.

As much as it pained Dylan to admit it, that wasn't him. Never had been. Never would be.

Shillingsworth continued his last hurrah. “One of these days soon, she'll realize she's made a mistake hooking up with you at all. When that happens, she'll dump you flat, buddy.”

Not if we part amicably,
Dylan thought, determined to protect Emily in whatever way remained. Unimpressed, he lifted a brow. “I doubt she'll come running to you.”

Shillingsworth shrugged, apparently having finally let go of that particular fantasy. “That much I figured. Which is too bad. Emily missed out on a good thing with me—I could have shown her the world. Because I am not just a trust-fund baby whose money will eventually run out. I'm going to be filthy rich one day, all on my own.”

“I'm sure they'll make a movie about you,” Dylan returned dryly.

“They will! And I'll have all the women I want!”

“Good luck with that,” he retorted.

“Just not here in this one-horse town.”

His patience exhausted, Dylan propelled the kid into the driver's seat and shut the door. “You better get started, then. Time's a-wastin'.”

“Don't I know it!” Shillingsworth released an obnoxious laugh, coupled with an invective-laced adios, and sped off.

Dylan could tell Shillingsworth was finally satisfied he'd gotten his revenge on both Emily and Dylan. The residents of Laramie would never see the kid again unless legal action dragged him back.

He turned to see Emily coming up behind him.

Her cheeks were pink with indignation, her eyes full of worry. “What did he say to you just now?”

Wishing things were different, Dylan exhaled. “The same thing he's been alleging all along, that I'm not good enough for you.”

Emily recoiled with hurt. “That's not true.”

Wasn't it? Dylan had seen the looks on all the McCabes' faces when Shillingsworth was describing his conversation with the old man. They'd been as shocked and revolted by the coldhearted account as Dylan would have expected them to be.

There was no way they'd want their daughter to be exposed to such familial disdain and cruelty, even by marriage.

Dylan swallowed and forced himself to do the right thing. To finally be as noble as he should have been all along.

He shrugged, keeping his tone carefully matter-of-fact. “Not that it matters. We knew this was only a temporary thing anyway, right?” He paused to search her eyes, protecting Emily the best way he could.

“Well. I—” she stammered, but he cut her off.

“Emily, let's not dance around the truth, okay?” he muttered. “It was always understood that we'd eventually go our separate ways.”

Emily blinked. “But what about the mustangs…the test you talked about…?”

Dylan had inadvertently put her through so much; he wouldn't rob her of that. “You're welcome to participate in that, of course,” he reassured her.

Emily's lower lip trembled. “When are you going to do it?” she whispered.

Dylan pushed away the powerful feelings welling up inside him. “In ten days or so. I'll let you know when I set it up.”

“Dylan…”

He cut her off with a gallant lift of his hand. “We have
guests, Emily.” It was all he could do not to wrap his arms around her. “Don't you think it's time you went to see about taking care of them?”

A flush started in her neck and swept into her face. Looking near tears, she asked hoarsely, “Don't you want to come inside, too?”

Dylan figured he had embarrassed her enough. “I'm going to see to the horses—get them settled for the night.”

Aware they were no doubt being observed by the whole McCabe contingent, Emily struggled to regain her composure. “All right, then. I'll see you in a bit.” She went back in to oversee the potluck dinner.

Dylan exited the ranch and left Emily to say goodbye to everyone on her own. He felt sick inside, but he knew he'd done the right thing. Because Shillingsworth was right—it would never work. Had he and Emily been smarter and more honest, they would have realized that from the very beginning.