A Texan's Honor (20 page)

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Authors: Leigh Greenwood

BOOK: A Texan's Honor
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“I've never kissed anyone like that before.”

He wondered if it was wise to tell her the truth. Hell, he wasn't sure it was smart for him to know it. He should have been putting the whole thing out of his mind, treating it like a bad experiment. He should have been remembering how he'd put the success of his errand as well as his future at Abbott & Abercrombie
in jeopardy. He should have been thinking about how to convince Emily this whole thing was entirely meaningless to him. Knowing it wasn't cut the ground out from under him.

“Why did you kiss me like that?” she repeated.

“No man likes to be told his kisses are forgettable, not to say regrettable.” It was a safe answer and had the virtue of being part of the truth.

“It didn't feel like a challenge. It felt like you liked it.”

Hell and damnation! Emily never might have been kissed, but she'd seen right through him. Nothing now would serve but the truth.

“I did like it, but it's something we can never do again.”

“Why not?”

Surely she knew the answer to that. Why did she insist on making him put it into words? “You're a wealthy young woman who's a member of a very important family. You deserve a husband who's your equal. You won't have that if you go around kissing men like me.”


You're
part of an important family.”

“I'm not rich, I'm not powerful, and my family would be delighted if I never came back from Texas. Now it's time for us to go to sleep. We have a lot of riding to do tomorrow. I'll take the horses down to the creek for a last drink of water.”

He turned and left before she had the chance to ask him anything else. All he needed was half an excuse and he'd take her back in his arms and make sure she could never like another man's kisses, another man's arms. He kept walking because he knew if he did that, it could end up hurting Emily. That was something he never wanted to do.

He pulled the stakes tethering their mounts out of the ground and headed toward the shallow creek a
hundred feet away. The horses followed, their shod feet sending muted metallic sounds into the night as their iron shoes encountered small stones. They waded into the stream, sank their muzzless into the water, and drank deeply.

It almost made him feel as if he were back at Jake's ranch, sleeping out by himself, watering his horse before turning in. The work had been hard and physically tiring. But no matter how drained he felt at the end of the day, there was something about being outside under the open sky that leached away the tension and enabled him to relax, sleep well, and be refreshed in the morning. He remembered looking forward to getting back to the ranch and being part of the rough-and-tumble family Jake and Isabelle had cobbled together.

He pulled the horses away from the water. But as he walked back to camp, he didn't feel that old sense of relaxation, the feeling of being at ease with the world. Emily was there. After that kiss, he knew she was the greatest danger he'd ever faced.

Chapter Twelve

Emily hurried to slip into her bedroll before Bret returned. She wanted him to believe she was asleep so she wouldn't have to say anything to him. She was embarrassed, confused, and excited, not a condition conducive to clear thoughts or the ability to express them in a way that would explain what had happened in the last half hour.

She didn't know what had gotten into her. She'd never done anything like that before. If he'd tried to kiss her without being asked, she'd have slapped him. Instead, when he'd been a perfect gentleman and tried to talk her out of this madness, she'd practically forced him to kiss her. She didn't know what Ida or her father would say, but she was glad neither of them would ever know. It was bad enough that
she
knew, and worse that Bret did.

She finished spreading the bedroll on the ground. It wouldn't be easy to sleep under the circumstances. If rocks didn't jab her in the back, grass clumps created bumps under her bedroll. She finally managed
to find a place between clumps and settled in. She could hear the horses blowing through their nostrils, so she knew Bret was still down by the stream. She pulled the blanket over herself and turned away from where he'd dropped his bedroll.

Despite the enormity of her embarrassment, she had something more important to think about. She'd liked Bret's kiss so much she'd clung to him, kissing him back. Even the thought was shocking. She'd never wanted to kiss any man, never considered allowing a man to kiss her. Prior to tonight, she'd been mildly curious about kissing, but she'd been too busy with her horses and taking care of her father to think about it much. Over the last two years, she'd gradually begun to picture herself running the ranch alone. It wasn't that she didn't want to get married. She just didn't feel the need for a husband, and no one had come along to change her mind.

Now Bret was causing her to question all her assumptions.

If she'd been looking for a husband, she couldn't have found anyone who came closer to her ideal. He was handsome, charming, and intelligent. He could ride, rope, and seemed to know as much about ranches as Lonnie. And she liked him. It was no longer mere attraction.

And he liked her—she was certain of that. She was a novice when it came to kissing, but she could tell theirs hadn't been an ordinary kiss. The effect on him had been as much of a surprise to him as it had been to her. However, their attraction to each other was destined to end in frustration. He would be returning to Boston, and she was determined to remain in Texas.

Yet somewhere in the back of her mind lurked the wisp of an idea that he might regret having left Texas.
She supposed she understood why he'd gone to Boston, but she didn't understand why he stayed. From all he'd said, she believed he'd been happy living with his adopted family. He spoke of Jake with respect and of Isabelle with near reverence. His memories of his siblings and the work he did were all positive. He certainly didn't show any reluctance to get hot, sweaty, and dirty. Nor did he back away from the danger of rustling.

That thought brought Emily face to face with a hard fact. If she didn't do something about the rustling, she could lose her ranch. Then she'd have no choice but to go to Boston. She didn't believe that Lonnie was involved in the rustling, but she couldn't deny that somebody at the ranch was. That meant Bret was the only person she could trust to capture the rustlers and find a way to get her calves back.

Maybe by then he wouldn't want to return to Boston.

Emily's gaze didn't focus on the familiar landscape of flat prairies and low hills as she and Bret headed back to the ranch. All day long she'd been going over in her mind what to say to Bret, where to begin. Finally she simply came out with it.

“I'm not going to Boston, so you might as well give up on trying to change my mind.”

Bret smiled. “You ought to know by now I never give up.”

She wondered if Bret knew how seductive his smile was. “I didn't expect you would, though I don't know why you want to go back to people who treat you so poorly. I'd have thought you'd have gone back to your adopted family.”

His smile disappeared, to be replaced by a hurt look. “My family's in Boston. That's where I belong.”

“I think people belong where they can be happy. You haven't said anything to make me think your family makes you happy.”

“We all have different goals in life.”

“I can't understand why making yourself miserable should be one of them.”

She feared she was taking the wrong approach. She was supposed to be convincing him to help her, not making him angry.

“Sorry,” she said. “What you do with your life is none of my business, but I'd like to ask for your help. I've got to stop the rustling or I won't have a ranch to manage. Since I don't know whom I can trust, I want you to take on the job of finding out who's behind it.”

Bret's surprise was evident. “I don't think that would be a good idea. Your crew will resent me.”

“They'll be so busy patrolling, they won't have time to investigate. They'll bring you any information they find so they'll feel like they're part of it.”

“Lonnie won't be fooled.”

“The rustling has been going on for a month, and he didn't notice. I can't put much faith in his ability to find the rustlers.”

“You still don't believe he's connected with the rustlers, do you?”

“No.” Emily shook her head. “I've known Lonnie too long. He's too loyal.”

“What will your father say?”

“I won't know until I ask him, but I'm sure he'll agree.”

“And what are you offering? You know my uncle will be furious if I return without you.”

“Dad said you had a plan to reorganize the company so it would make more money.”

“I didn't realize he'd discussed that with you.”

“Dad discusses everything with me.”

Well, maybe not everything
.

“I'll give you the right to vote my stock in Abbott and Abercrombie,” Emily said.

Bret laughed without humor. “I've already promised your father that, in exchange for the right to vote his stock, I'd convince you to move to Boston and look after you until you got married. I can't please both of you.”

Emily felt a little uneasy. She knew how much her father wanted her to go to Boston. She also knew that if he'd made a deal with Bret, he'd stick to it. There was only one solution. She had to convince her father to change his mind.

“We'll talk to Dad as soon as we get back,” Emily said and urged her horse into a fast canter.

They were later getting back than she'd planned. After two days in the saddle, Emily wanted a bath. Bret was equally insistent that he clean up before he came to the table, but Bertie said they would eat supper while it was hot or she'd give it to the hogs. By the time they'd finished supper and Bertie had cleared the table, Emily was nearly boiling with impatience. Once her father had his brandy, Emily couldn't wait any longer.

“Bret tells me you made a deal with him,” she said. “In exchange for convincing me to go to Boston, you'll let him vote your shares.”

“That was a private conversation,” Sam said, looking angrily at Bret.

“It would have remained so,” Bret said, “but your daughter made a counter offer.”

“What?” Sam asked Emily.

“I told Bret if he'd stay long enough to get rid of the rustlers, I'd let him vote my stock.”

“You don't have any stock,” her father reminded her. “I do.”

“I don't wish to be premature,” Bret said, “but I feel I should point out that the shares will belong to your daughter after you die.”

“What are you trying to say?” Sam asked.

“It would be better for everybody—not just me—if you and your daughter could reach a compromise. The way things stand now, I have to follow your wishes. After you die, I'll have to follow your daughter's. I couldn't honor my understanding with you if I followed her wishes. That would compromise my integrity.”

“I'm sure Dad would agree with me that getting rid of the rustlers comes first,” Emily said.

“He may agree with you, but he wouldn't necessarily want me to be the one to do it,” Bret said. “But there's something else you need to consider. Your father is deeply worried about your future. He might be willing to lose the ranch if he thought that would force you to go to Boston, where he thinks I could see you were safely married.”

Emily was furious. “Dad would never do anything like that.”

Sam chuckled. “You have a devious mind,” he said to Bret. “That possibility
had
entered my thoughts.”

Almost too shocked to speak, Emily turned to her father. “You wouldn't give up the ranch. You love it too much.”

“I'd give up everything I have if I could be absolutely certain you'd be safe after my death,” her father said.

“But I love this ranch. I love training my horses. I'd be miserable in Boston.”

“It would be different if you were married,” Sam said, “but you've never shown an interest in any of the young men you've met.”

“That's because I haven't met anyone I could love.” She avoided looking at Bret. “I know the way you and Mama loved each other. I want that, too.”

“Then you have to move to someplace like Boston. You'll never find a husband stuck out here on this ranch.”

She and her father argued—they'd covered the same ground so many times before—for several minutes without getting any closer to an agreement.

“Can I make a suggestion?” Bret said.

“Not if it involves me going to Boston or selling the ranch,” Emily snapped.

“As far as I can see, you each have to give a little, or nothing will ever be decided.”

“What is your suggestion?” Sam asked.

“First, we clear up the rustling.”

“I agree,” Emily said.

“I'm listening,” Sam said.

“As you know,” Bret said, turning to her father, “the shares in Abbott and Abercrombie have paid very little in the last few years. Emily needs the income from the ranch to support herself.” He turned to Emily. “You're unlikely to find a man you'll want to marry if you stay here. Why don't you agree to spend the winter in Boston? It's too cold here to train horses anyway.”

“I'd agree if you make that Fort Worth or Dallas,” Emily said to her father. “How about Galveston? No man I meet in Boston is going to want to live on a ranch in Texas.”

“Who's going to look after you?” Sam asked. “You can't go running all over Texas by yourself.”

“Bret can go with me,” Emily said. “I'd be safe with him.”

“He can't be in two places at once,” her father said. “The whole point of letting him vote our shares is so
he can force Silas and my hateful brother to bring that company into the modern era. If they lose their money, they might have to come down here and live with us.”

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