A Texan's Honor (28 page)

“Emily's father nearly died two days ago. I couldn't leave her until he was feeling better.”

During the last two days, either Emily or Bret had been with Sam almost constantly. They'd shared meals and concern for Sam, but that was all. Emily was so preoccupied with her father's failing health, it wasn't an appropriate time for kisses or anything else. Emily felt so guilty about having been away when he'd had his attack, she wouldn't leave the house even to exercise her horses. Bret only left to work with the horses and give Jinx his daily lessons. If it hadn't been for the boy's smiles and endless supply of energy and optimism, it would have been a dreary household. Even Emily cheered up when he was around.

“We'd better get going if we want to catch the rustlers before dark,” Hawk said. “How good are you at ambushes? Crawled on your stomach lately?”

“About all I'm good for is riding in hell-for-leather and shouting at them to put their hands up.”

Bret had forgotten that Hawk's belly laugh sounded as if he were laughing into a drum. It wasn't something anyone had heard often recently.

“They're in a depression between two low hills and
screened by a blackjack and live oak thicket,” Hawk said as he and Bret set out on their horses. “They don't seem worried about being caught. We'd have heard the bawling calves if we hadn't spotted the smoke from their fire first.”

“I don't understand,” Bret said. “They're either very stupid or certain they won't get caught.”

“If we can come up on them before they go for their guns, it'll be the easiest job we've ever had.”

Bret saw the smoke and heard the calves. “I swear they're trying to get caught,” Hawk said.

What followed was the most bizarre situation Bret had ever taken part in. The two men didn't attempt to hide or go for their guns when Bret rode up with Hawk. Zeke came up behind the men, but they didn't stop what they were doing until they'd finished branding the calf they held on the ground. They released the calf, which went off bawling for its mother. Only then did one of the men turn to Bret and ask, “Who are you? Did Lonnie send you?”

Bret had been certain that Lonnie was behind the rustling, but he'd never expected to have one of the men blurt it out like that. “No. We represent Sam Abercrombie. We're taking you in for rustling.”

The man looked confused rather than worried or angry. “We ain't rustling. We're just doing what Lonnie told us.”

“Did he explain why putting another man's brand on Abercrombie cattle wasn't going to cause you to end up with your head in a noose?”

“He said the ranch was changing its brand. He said he didn't have enough hands to spare, so he hired us to do it.”

“Who is that brand registered to?” Bret asked.

“Lonnie said it belonged to the ranch.”

“Unfortunately for you, Mr. Abercrombie is
not
changing his brand. You'll have to come with us until we get this straightened out.”

“You don't have to take our guns,” the man said when Zeke collected their rifles from their horses. “We're not going to try to run away. Lonnie will explain everything.”

But Lonnie wasn't at the ranch when they got there.

“He ain't come in yet,” Jem said. “I don't know where he is. He's never this late.”

Unsure of what to do next, Bret took the men to Sam. Sam thought their story was just as unbelievable as Bret did.

“Lock them up in the barn,” Sam said. “They'll keep until I hear what Lonnie has to say.”

“He'll tell you we ain't no rustlers,” the talkative man said as Hawk and Zeke pushed the two out of the room. The other man never did speak.

“I don't believe a word of it,” Emily said after the door closed behind the four men. “Lonnie would never do anything like that.”

“You heard what they said,” Bret reminded her. “They didn't try to hide what they'd been doing.”

“There's got to be another explanation,” Emily insisted.

“You bring Lonnie to me the minute he gets back,” Sam said.

But Lonnie hadn't returned by the time the men finished their dinner. Nor had he returned by the time they went to bed.

“I want you to keep your brothers here,” Sam said to Bret while Emily was getting him ready for bed. “We're short of hands, and they seem like good men.”

“The best you'll find,” Bret assured him, “but what will they do?”

“I'll decide tomorrow. I'm tired now.”

“Then I'll say good night,” Bret said.

Emily put her hand on his arm. “I want to talk to you before you go to bed,” Emily said.

“I'm going to check on the piebald. He seemed to be favoring his left foreleg.”

Outside, the temperature had dropped and the air felt damp. Bret hoped they were in for a little rain before the dry months of summer set in. The piebald was standing at the edge of the corral. He didn't move away when Bret climbed through the bars. “Gotten used to me, have you?” he said to the big horse. The piebald butted him with his head. “I love you, too, you big ugly mutt, but try not to knock to me down. I just want to check your leg.”

“If you have to make love to a horse, you're in worse shape than I thought.”

Bret looked up to see Hawk leaning against the corral. He wasn't surprised he hadn't heard him come up. Hawk could move like a shadow when he wanted to.

“Not all of us have your success with the ladies.”

Hawk made a noise that sounded like he was clearing his throat. “Hell, even my horse doesn't like me. What's wrong with his leg?”

“I can't find anything, but he seemed to be favoring it this morning. You have a look.”

Hawk climbed through the bars, ran his hand up and down the piebald's leg. “It's a little warm. Might be a good idea to give him a couple days off.” He stood and patted the piebald's neck. “He looks like a good, strong horse.”

“His owner wants to make him a cutting horse, but Emily and I think he's perfect for all-around ranch work.”

“You two working together?”

“Yeah.” Bret laughed. “I had to prove to her I
wasn't a greenhorn. For my reward she gave me the only horse she couldn't train.”

“How's he doing?”

“He's stubborn, but he figures it out.”

“There seems to be a lot of stubbornness around here.”

Bret laughed again, but not with as much humor. The sound of a closing door caused the two men to glance back at the house in time to see Emily starting toward them. “I think it's time I got some shuteye,” Hawk said. “I'm so sleepy I can barely hold my head up.”

“Coward,” Bret said.

“I'm just leaving the field to you. She's a lot prettier than the piebald.”

Hawk waved to Emily as he made his way to the bunkhouse. Giving the piebald one last pat, Bret climbed back through the bars.

“Is anything wrong with the piebald?” Emily asked when she came up.

“Hawk thinks maybe he strained a tendon. He was favoring his left foreleg when we finished up this morning, so I'll probably give him a couple of days off.”

Emily leaned against the corral, looked at the piebald, then the other horses. “I can't believe I thought you were a complete greenhorn.”

“You had no reason to think otherwise.”

“I should have been fair enough to wait until I got to know you before I made up my mind.”

“You weren't angry at me, just at what I'd been sent to do.”

“I was a little angry at you for agreeing to do it.”

“And I wasn't exactly happy with your attitude toward me or my errand.”

Emily laughed, a little nervously, Bret thought.

“I'm glad we both got a chance to change our minds,” Emily said. After a pause, she added, “You
did
change your mind about me, didn't you?”

“Nope. I thought you were a beautiful, high-spirited woman when I first met you, and I think the same thing now.”

He couldn't be sure in the pale light of the moon, but he thought she blushed.

“I'm not sure I ever thanked you for working out a compromise that keeps me from having to go to Boston. You know Dad only agreed because you said you'd come back.”

Bret nodded.

“Why did
you
agree?”

“You got what you wanted, and I got what I wanted.”

“You had already made an agreement with Dad about the stock. He could have sold the ranch, forced me to go to Boston. You would have got what you wanted without having to spend four months in a place you dislike helping me find a husband.”

“I don't dislike Texas,” Bret said. “It's just not my home anymore.”

“Could it be again?”

Bret felt himself tense. “What do you mean?”

“When are you leaving?”

“I can't leave with your father so ill.” That sounded like a weak excuse; there was nothing he could do to help her father. “And we still haven't caught Lonnie.”

“The boys can take care of Lonnie, and we both know my father's not going to get any better.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“No. I'm trying to find out why you're staying.”

There it was, the question he'd been hoping to avoid. The question others had all been asking him in one way or another. “I don't want to leave you alone
when you've got so much on your hands.” That was only a small part of the reason he wanted to stay. “I'd feel better if Ida and Charlie were here.” But even then, he still wouldn't want to leave.

“I can take care of myself. And if I need Charlie or Ida, I only have to send for them.”

“But that'd take two days. Anything could happen in that time.” It still wasn't what he wanted to say. They stood there, looking at each other—moonlight making it difficult to read expressions, impossible to see into eyes.

“Do you like me?”

Emily's question sent shock waves ricocheting through Bret's body. He turned away, looked at the horses on the far side of the corral. “Of course I like you.”

“Look at me,” Emily said. “Do you like me?” she repeated when he faced her. “I don't mean like a friend. I mean like somebody special, somebody you'd like to see a lot, someone you wouldn't want to leave.”

She'd put the question to him squarely. He could refuse to answer, or he could lie, but there was no way he could equivocate. She had rested her arm on the top corral pole. Bret reached over to cover her hand with his. “Yes, I do like you in all those ways, but it's something I've told myself I can't have.”

“What if I felt the same way about you?”

He felt his hand close around her fingers. “I hope you don't. It's not much fun to want something you can't have.”

“Why can't I have it—
we
have it?”

“Because your life is here, and mine is in Boston.”

“But you like Texas. You like being on a ranch again. You look happy when you talk about the time you spent on Jake's ranch. You like the people who
made up your adopted family. Every time you need help, you think of them first. You look grim and determined whenever you talk about going back to Boston.” She took his hand in both of hers. “You're not happy there, but you could be happy here.”

Bret took her hand in both of his. “I don't expect you to understand this—Jake and Isabelle never did—but my uncle turned his back on my mother, my father, and me in succession, and he forced the family to do the same. That's been eating at me ever since I was seven. For twenty years it's been like gorge in my throat, always threatening to choke me. It doesn't matter whether I'm happy or not. Proving he was wrong is something I have to do.”

“Why do you care what he thinks?”

Isabelle had asked him that question in one of her letters. It had bothered him a lot until he finally realized the problem was in his own head. He couldn't
feel
worthy until acceptance came from his uncle because his uncle had been the one to reject him. “It's just the way I feel. I know it's stupid, but nothing has been able to change it.”

“Maybe this can.”

Emily withdrew her hands from his grasp, took his face in her hands, and kissed him gently on the mouth. Bret tried to resist, but it was futile. In less than a second, his arms pulled Emily into a crushing embrace. All the passion he'd been holding back, all the desire, all the hope, came spilling from the broken dam and drowned his resistance. He'd never known that anything could feel so good, so right. It was as if they'd been made to fit with each other. He knew that what he was doing was foolish, but he didn't care. He'd worry about that later. Right now he held Emily in his arms.

Somewhere in the back of his head, he thought he
heard a horse approach the ranch house, but he had no thoughts to spare for anyone but the woman in his arms.

“That didn't feel exactly like a friendship kiss,” Bret said once they'd broken their kiss and he'd been able to get his breath.

Emily slipped her arms around his waist and leaned against him. “It's a special kind of friendship. I can't stand to think of you going back to Boston and being miserable.”

He'd been thinking it meant something a little different.

Their second kiss was more lingering, less impassioned. As they kissed searchingly, Bret realized they were both looking for answers, both looking for a level of interest, passion, desire,
need,
that neither of them had been able or willing to put into words. The sound of running feet caused them to break apart.

“You gotta come right now,” Jinx called out even before he reached them. “Some man named Joseph has just come up to the house. He says he's got to talk to you right away.”

Joseph Abbott's unexpected appearance at the ranch sent Emily's feelings into a tailspin. She'd forgotten how much she liked him. She
hadn't
forgotten he'd warned her against Bret. If she had, the tension between them would have reminded her. She and Bret had arrived back at the house to find Joseph standing in the middle of the great room looking as if he were afraid to sit down. She knew their ranch house was rustic compared to houses in Boston, but it was comfortable nonetheless.