Page 26 of Pretend To Be My Cowboy
Her gaze collided with his, and the mix of emotions there was nearly his undoing.
She looked lost. Frightened. But her chin came up and her smile was once more back in place as she said, “It’sourproperty now, remember?” She tapped the paper before her. “Not mine alone.”
“Yes, well…” He wanted to comfort her. So badly. He wished he had the right to tug her out of her seat and into his lap so he could hold her tight.
But that wasn’t his place, and so he tried to find words to help. Never his forte, even at the best of times.
“You might share the property with your sisters, but you’re the one who’s here now, right?” He arched his brows. “And just because you’re only part owner doesn’t make this any less your land.”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “I guess you’re right. In that case…” She looked at that paper again, and this time he could see her dread. “Exploring the ranch will be my reward for knocking one name off the list.”
Ah. Understanding dawned in a heartbeat. “Your sisters,” he said.
She nodded. “I need to start contacting them if I’m going to get a unanimous decision and be able to sell anytime soon.” She frowned down at the paper and mumbled as if to herself, “If that’s what we want to do.”
Nash heard his father’s voice in his head, of all things.Convince her to sell.He knew without a doubt what his father would do if he were here. It was what he’d urge Nash to do, too.
For the sake of the family, for their own ranching business...they needed Emma and her sisters to sell.
And it wouldn’t be hard. He toyed with his mug as he watched her frown at whatever document she was studying.
She was confused and torn. Her emotions were all over the board. It likely wouldn’t take much to steer her toward selling, to convince her that she had no place here, and that her life would be easier if she just went back to Chicago and her cozy little apartment that she loved so much.
He took a sip of his coffee. He had a hunch that all it would take were a few pointed comments, a couple of subtle suggestions, and her doubts about selling would be wiped away like marker on a whiteboard.
He knew that...but he still couldn’t bring himself to say anything.
9
Emma eyed the sheet before her one last time after Nash left to go back to his chores.
It had taken everything in her not to throw out some desperate barter scheme. I’ll muck out every stall if you’ll just make this phone call for me.
She let out a sharp exhale, irritated with herself and her own cowardice.
How long had she been staring at this one sheet of paper? All morning. She’d been procrastinating for hours now. But after making breakfast and taking a shower, she was running out of ways to delay.
So she’d gone back to staring a hole into the piece of paper. It had been the top sheet in the folder Mr. Billman had given her. There was one sheet of paper for each of the sisters. All it held was contact details and some very basic info. Mother’s maiden name, date of birth.
That was how she knew this woman was the first-born. Sierra O’Sullivan. Sister Number One, as Emma was starting to think of her.
This was ridiculous. Emma curled up on her bed and pulled out her phone. Did she really think staring at the phone number would in some way make this easier?
No.
It was time to do or die. She took in a deep breath until it puffed up her cheeks, then let it out slowly as she dialed the phone number she now knew by heart.
Nothing. No answer. Not even a voicemail.
She frowned down at the phone. Well. That was an anticlimactic start.
She moved down the list to the next in order, after herself and Lizzy.
“Lucky sister number four,” she mumbled as she dialed the number.
Dahlia picked up on the first ring, her voice brisk to the point of being curt. “Yes?”
“Dahlia?”
