Page 19 of Pretend To Be My Cowboy
He picked up his pace but she didn’t seem to notice him until he reached her side.
“Hey,” he said. “You okay?”
She stared at him for a full second and then she visibly swallowed. “Yeah. Of course.”
He wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince, but she certainly wasn’t fooling him.
Taking her by the elbow he led her toward his truck. “Let’s get you home, huh?”
“Home,” she repeated softly. The sarcastic little chuckle that followed sounded so off, so...wrongcoming from her that it made his heart twist and turn in his chest.
He got her into the truck’s cab and made sure she was buckled before heading out of town.
He didn’t ask if she still wanted a late lunch at Mama’s Kitchen. The answer was written all over her face.
He shouldn’t care. That’s what he told himself. He shouldn’t be so worried about a woman he’d just met. But the longer the silence grew, the more his insides felt like they were caught in a vise.
When they passed the town’s limit and got onto the long road that led to the ranch, he glanced at her. “Do you want to talk about it?”
For a second he thought she might not answer.
Then, as if it was ripped from deep inside her, she blurted out, “Seven!”
He gave a start. “What does—”
“Seven daughters,” she said, turning to him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks.
He stared at her and then the road in front of him as he tried to make sense of that. “Wait, you mean...Frank hadsevendaughters?”
She didn’t answer at first. Her chest heaved as she stared out the window, shaking her head like a malfunctioning robot. And then, all of a sudden, an unexpected tirade exploded out of her.
“All those Christmas and birthday cards! Not once did he say anything! Would it really have been too much to write ‘By the way, you have a sister. Oh and another one’s just been born and I’m sorry, but I forgot to mention the one I had before I even met your mother.’ No, he just shoved some money in a card with a genericbest wishesand I’ve been left clueless all this time!” Her delicate hand flew into the air before slapping back onto her thigh. “I mean, wow,Dad, good job! Way to spread your seed! How many women has the man been with? He just… walks the earth, leaving a trail of children in his wake! I mean, seven!” She sucked in a breath, then huffed it out again.
Nash didn’t dare interrupt her. She was clearly worked up, and although he usually got as far from angry women as he could, the sight of Emma so hurt and unhappy was nearly his undoing.
His fingers itched with the urge to pull the truck over so he could tug her into his arms and hold her tight. His chest ached to wrap her up in a hug and let her cry it out on his shoulder.
But she wasn’t crying. Not yet, at least.
Right now she was too angry, and spouting off about things like tracking them down and getting signatures.
“I don’t even know how I’m supposed to do this. It’s all just been dumped in my lap. I thought I was here for one week to see where my father used to live, sign some paperwork and then I could go back home and get on with my life. But now I find out I have five sisters I didn’t even know about and I need every one of them to agree to sell the ranch!” Her voice hitched, stealing the ferocity from her words. “I’m not cut out for this. All I want right now is to go back to my apartment in Chicago and pretend like none of this was happening.” She blinked, a wet sheen coating her eyes when she looked at him. “But I can’t do that, can I?”
The question was rhetorical, at least he hoped it was.
Licking his bottom lip, he kept his eyes on the road ahead.
They’d just reached the turn off for the property when she turned fully in her seat to face him.
“Did you know?” Her eyes were vibrant, shining with pain and frustration. “Did you know about them?” she asked again, quieter this time, but with no less intensity.
He swallowed. He’d do anything not to hurt this woman, but he couldn’t lie. “I knew about April.”
A flash of hurt. There and gone in a moment, but he could have sworn he felt it like a dagger to his heart.
“April,” she repeated, her brow furrowing. “That was his daughter with Loretta.”
He nodded.
