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Emily watched him climb into his truck, ignoring the way his jeans molded themselves to his masculine contours. “Don’t hold your breath,” she called out childishly, arms folded.
He looked down at her from the open window. “You’ll sell.”
His confident tone sent a shiver of foreboding down Emily’s spine. How far was this man willing to go to get what he wanted?
Chapter Three
“How’s the land grab going?” Charlie Winchester asked Adam as Travis turned a snort of laughter into a cough that he buried in his fist.
Usually the three brothers worked different parts of the sprawling ranch, each leading his own group of men, but a small bunch of cattle needed moving closer in, so Adam had recruited the other two and a couple of the dogs to ride out with him this morning. Preparation for spring roundup had kept them all too busy for more than the most perfunctory conversation during the past couple of weeks, and this was the kind of day that made a man thankful to work outdoors. The sky above was as blue as Arizona turquoise, and the swaying grasses were dotted with early wildflowers.
Adam’s saddle creaked as he turned to look at Charlie. “We’re buying the Johnson place, not stealing it,” Adam said mildly, refusing to let his youngest brother’s comment spoil his mood. “The current owner wants to dicker a little before she lets go, but we’ll have what we need in the end.”
He still didn’t know why Emily Major had bought Johnson’s place, but he wasn’t about to let that stop him. He realized uneasily that he was actually looking forward to their next sparring match. She was attractive, and his blood was still red, even if he didn’t have what it took to hang on to a woman he cared about. He had no intention of getting involved.
“So the rumors are all true,” Charlie said. “Johnson sold out to a woman from the left coast. What I don’t understand is why he didn’t talk to us first. He must have known we’d top anyone else’s offer.”
“He was a reclusive old man,” Adam replied as he spotted a few head of cattle. When they saw the approaching riders, they bunched together, their calves bawling nervously. “Maybe he was getting senile, too. Who knows? It’s not important. She’ll sell.”
“Adam will charm her,” Charlie told Travis with a broad wink he didn’t bother to conceal from his eldest brother. “By the time he’s done with the sweet-talk, she won’t know what hit her.”
Travis glanced at Adam. “If charm is what’s needed, maybe I’d better take over,” he said to Charlie behind his gloved hand. “When it comes to dealing with the ladies, our big brother’s a little rusty.”
“You’re a married man,” Charlie reminded him. “Rory would hand you your head if you ever looked at anyone else.” His dimples flashed as he made a mock bow. “I, on the other hand, am presently unattached.”
“What happened to that nurse you were seeing?” Adam demanded. The pretty brunette had been on Charlie’s arm so often lately, she might have been stuck there with Velcro. “I thought you two were getting serious.”
“Hey, this is Charlie we’re talking about.” Travis’s voice danced with humor. “When have you known him to be serious about anything?”
An expression that could have been hurt crossed Charlie’s face, quickly replaced by his usual cocky grin. “She started dropping hints about a ring and a future together,” he explained with a shrug. “I figured it was time for a clean break.”
“You should think about settling down,” Travis told him. “Marriage to the right woman beats single hands-down.”
“Yeah, but Rory’s already married,” Charlie replied with exaggerated petulance, “and you won’t share.”
“Damn right,” Travis agreed. “You had your chance with her.”
Five years before, Charlie had decided that Travis needed some help in the romance department, so he located Rory through a pen pal service and persuaded her to come out from New York for a visit. The day of her arrival, Charlie disappeared, leaving Travis to deal with her. By the time Charlie came back, Travis had fallen for her just as his younger brother had planned all along.
Until Charlie managed to convince Travis that he’d never intended her for himself, relations had been strained, to say the least. Ever since then, Charlie had taken full credit for finding his brother a bride, much to Travis’s annoyance and Adam’s unease. Charlie had been warned he’d spend six months in a line shack with only the herd for company if he even thought about pulling a similar trick on Adam.
Adam signaled the dogs to get the cattle moving while Charlie and Travis fanned out. Adam hadn’t yet told Travis that the woman who’d bought the Johnson place was the same one Adam had collided with at the feed store.
“Has this gal got a husband?” Charlie called out. “I could drop by and pay a neighborly visit after church tomorrow, encourage her to sell.” Despite his matchmaking talent, Charlie had never tied the knot, and he fancied himself a bit of a ladies’ man. Most of the local female population would probably agree. All he had to do was smile and flash his dimples. Women fell like apples from a tree.
Adam wished they were driving a larger herd, so they’d be too far apart for conversation, or that the cattle would bolt, necessitating a wild chase. For once the dogs were doing too good a job keeping them tight.
Adam was tempted to tell Charlie that Emily was married to a pro wrestler from cable television or that she was eighty-five years old and chewed tobacco. “Don’t trouble yourself,” he said instead, the surge of irritation he felt making him more than a little uneasy. “I’ll handle her.”
“He’s holding out on us,” Charlie called out to Travis. “I’ll bet you a ten spot she’s pretty.”
“Adam’s idea of pretty is a horse with spots on its butt.” Travis glanced pointedly at Adam’s Appaloosa.
Adam fiddled with the bandanna he’d tied around his neck. The other two would be on him like dogs on fresh meat if they suspected he was keeping something back. “Do you remember that woman at the feed store?” he asked Travis, as though she’d barely caught their notice. “We wondered at the time if that little sissy truck with the out-of-state plates was hers.”
Travis’s expression was speculative. “The cute little blonde you tried to knock down? Of course I remember. I’m married, not dead.”
“What’s this?” Charlie demanded, reining his mount closer to the other two. “Why haven’t I heard about her before?”
“It wasn’t important,” Adam said, exasperated.
“Are you telling us that she’s the one who bought the Johnson place?” Travis’s tone was incredulous. So much for slipping that little fact unnoticed into the conversation.
“Who is she?” Charlie asked, glancing back and forth between his two brothers, neither of whom was paying him any mind. “Would someone kindly tell me what’s going on?”
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Travis drawled.
“Nothing’s going on,” Adam exclaimed. “I’m doing my best to close a business deal for the good of the Running W, just like I always do.” He hadn’t meant to add that last part. They were all keenly aware of what running the ranch had cost him, but it wasn’t his intention to whine about it.
Travis gathered up his reins and urged his mount forward as a determined heifer broke from the group, her calf struggling to keep up with her. One of the dogs streaked past Adam, barking excitedly while Charlie headed in the other direction before the rest of the herd could follow.
Swearing under his breath, Adam prepared to join the fray before one of the animals got hurt. At least the skirmish had served one good purpose: it gave his brothers something to focus on besides Emily Major. With luck he’d have a signed deed in his pocket before the subject came up again.
The little country church with its stained-glass windows and narrow steeple poking up toward heaven belonged on a Christmas card sprinkled with silver glitter, Emily thought as she drove past the worshippers starting to head up the walkway lined in flower beds to the open front doors. Several people turned to stare as she parked her silver-blue pickup at the end of a row of freshly washed cars and trucks.
Her palms were damp on the steering wheel, and she wished that David hadn’t woken up this morning with the start of a cold. Refusing to put her own need for moral support ahead of the best interest of her child, she’d sent him back to bed after breakfast and set out for church by herself. From parent-teacher conferences to Little League games, she was used to showing up alone, she reminded herself as she checked her makeup in the rearview mirror. Stuart had usually been too busy working to join her, but he’d found the time to father a half sister for David without Emily suspecting a thing.
Taking a deep breath, she got out of her truck, smoothed down the long skirt of her black-and-white polka-dotted dress, relaxed the death grip on her purse and marched across the grass with what she hoped was a pleasant expression plastered on her face. She’d planned to arrive at the last minute so she could slip into the back of the congregation unnoticed, but the drive hadn’t taken as long as she’d figured.
As Emily approached the sea of strangers, a dark-haired man with a mustache glanced her way. He was carrying a little girl with bright orange curls, and something about his face looked vaguely familiar. He spoke to the woman at his side, a tall, striking redhead holding a little boy’s hand. Except for the swell of her stomach, she was as willowy as a dancer. They watched Emily with welcoming smiles as though they’d been waiting to greet her.
“Welcome,” the woman said. “I’m Rory Winchester, and this is my husband, Travis.”
Emily’s relief at the friendly overture turned to dismay when she heard their last name. Warily she glanced around, but she didn’t see the man she’d initially mistaken for an overenthusiastic suitor.
“Hi, I’m Emily Major,” she replied, shaking first the hand Travis Winchester extended and then his wife’s. Her skin was softer than his, and without the calluses, but her grip was equally firm despite her ultrafeminine appearance.
The little girl in the crook of Travis’s arm flashed Emily an impressive set of dimples. Her eyes were the same navy blue as her mother’s.
“This is Lucy, and that’s our son, Steven,” Travis said with a warm glance at the dark-haired boy.
“Pleased to meet you,” he recited politely, his cheeks turning pink as he looked up at Emily.
Emily greeted both children. Steven ducked his head, and Lucy studied her with a child’s frank stare.
“I recognized you from the feed store,” Travis said. “I was with my brother when he tried to run you over in the doorway. It appears you survived.”
That explained his connection to the man so determined to buy her out. Did Travis realize who she was? “As you can see, I’m still in one piece,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet all of you.”
“Newcomers to Waterloo tend to stand out,” he said. “Especially the pretty ones.” His wife elbowed him playfully, and they exchanged smiles, the easy affection between them plain to see.
“Don’t mind my husband,” she told Emily. “Most of the locals still think of me as a newcomer, and I’ve lived here for five years.” There was a trace of East Coast in her voice that Emily couldn’t quite place. “I’m from New York,” Rory added. “How about you?”
“Southern California,” Emily replied as they trailed after the last of the people going inside. “I bought the Johnson place,” she added, wondering whether they already knew and that was why they were being so friendly.
“Then we really are neighbors,” was all she said. “Why don’t you sit with us inside, and we can introduce you around afterward?”
“Thanks, that would be nice.” The knot of nerves in Emily’s stomach began to loosen.
“It’s a shame Adam and his daughter aren’t here,” Rory said in an undertone as they crossed the vestibule. “He took her to Colorado Springs for the weekend to buy her a dress for the school dance.”
So Emily’s nemesis had a child. It seemed odd that he would be the one to take her clothes shopping, unless her mother was no longer in the picture. Despite the negative impression he’d made on Emily, it sounded as though Adam took his duties as a parent seriously. How she wished her ex-husband felt the same way.
She would have liked to ask what grade the girl was in. David hadn’t said anything about a dance. Perhaps Adam’s daughter attended a private school.
Emily followed Rory down the center aisle of the church, aware of the heads turning curiously and the murmured greetings when they took their places in the pew. Travis had entered first, still carrying Lucy, and Steven sat between him and Rory, with Emily on the end. Before anyone around them could do more than smile or nod, the choir filed in, followed by the minister, and the service began with a hymn.
The simple decor of the interior was complemented by the elegant tapestries on the walls, the gleam of well-polished wood and the masses of flowers Emily assumed had been provided by members of the congregation. Beeswax tapers burned on the altar. Behind it was a large, round, stained-glass window, the rich colors of its traditional biblical scene glowing as brightly as a neon sign.
At the conclusion of the hymn, the minister began to pray. Hands clasped loosely in her lap, Emily let the soothing words wash over her bowed head. Long before the service was over, she experienced the healing sense of peace and comfort that attending services nearly always brought her. Her only regret was that David wasn’t here with her. He was having such a difficult time adjusting to the changes in their lives, and Emily didn’t know what, if anything, she could do to help him.
Despite her concern for her son, she enjoyed the sermon, the prayers and especially the music. After the service was over and the minister had walked up the aisle past their pew, she left with Rory and her family. They seemed to know everyone. Emily met so many people on her way to the exit that she doubted she’d ever be able to keep them all straight.
When they got to the front steps, Travis introduced her to the minister. “Welcome to Waterloo,” Reverend Foley boomed as he pumped Emily’s hand. With his rotund build and fringe of hair, all he needed were brown robes and sandals to pass for a Franciscan monk. “Do you have family around here?”
“Not a soul,” Emily replied. “My son, David, and I needed a change of pace, and I fell for Colorado when I got off the plane in Denver.” She didn’t add that she’d come to scout out Ed Johnson’s property, nor did she figure it would be polite to mention that David thought the locals were a bunch of hayseeds. “He’s home with a cold,” she said instead.
“I hope you’ll bring him with you next Sunday,” the minister replied. “Meanwhile, if there’s anything my wife or I can do to help you settle in, don’t hesitate to call. Rosemary will be disappointed that she missed meeting you, but she’s off to Cheyenne to visit her sister until midweek.”
“I hope you’ll join us for dinner one evening while you’re batching it,” Rory told him. With her approval, Steven had gone with another little boy down to the lawn for a game of tag. He reminded Emily so much of David at that age. Life had been much simpler then.
The minister’s smile widened in response to Rory’s invitation. “Rosemary left me a couple of frozen casseroles with detailed instructions, but I have to admit that eating alone isn’t much fun.” He leaned closer. “You know how fond I am of your cooking,” he added conspiratorially. “Just don’t tell my wife that I prefer your meat loaf to hers.”
“Or that you’re a shameless flatterer,” Rory responded, glancing at the line waiting to greet him. “Come tomorrow, and I might just whip up that dinner you like.”
“With mashed potatoes?” he asked hopefully.
“Of course.”
The minister’s pleased expression faded as he glanced discreetly at Rory’s rounded stomach. “It won’t be too much trouble?”
Travis curved his free arm around his wife’s shoulders. “I’ve tried to get her to slow down,” he said, “but she’s stubborn. Must be all that red hair.”
“Compared to slinging hash for a diner full of customers, feeding one family and the occasional guest is child’s play,” she exclaimed, piquing Emily’s curiosity. “We’ll look for you tomorrow, Reverend.”
After he’d promised to be there, he excused himself to greet another parishioner, and Travis guided Rory down the front steps as carefully as if he were escorting royalty.
“Would you and your son like to join us?” she asked Emily when they reached the sidewalk where knots of people stood visiting. “We’d love to meet him.”
Emily was touched by the easy way the invitation was issued, as though they were already friends. Although that might not be possible, Emily liked the idea. “Might I take a rain check until my son is over his cold?” she asked regretfully.
“Sure thing. Let’s make it soon, though. We’re neighbors, after all.” Rory’s smile was guileless as she reached into her purse and extracted a card she handed Emily. “Here’s my number. In the meantime, at least come by for coffee some morning.”
Emily thanked her and tucked the card in her pocket, intending to slip away quietly. Her plans were thwarted when Rory led her to another group and began making introductions.
“Don’t even try to keep everyone straight,” she told Emily between names. “If you’re anything like me, all these new faces will be a blur for a good while yet, but at least it’s a start.” She winked at Emily. “Besides, they’re all curious as heck about why you would move here from southern California, when the change has to be like crash landing on a different planet. Everyone’s just too polite to ask.”
Emily sensed that asking was just what Rory was doing. What would she say if Emily told her she’d brought her son here to save his life and that she had no intention of selling their new home, not to anyone?
Now wasn’t the time for confidences, especially with someone whose last name began with a W. Emily settled for part of the truth. “I wanted David to attend a school that didn’t need metal detectors and armed guards patrolling the halls.”
“I’m afraid that day will come, even here,” Rory replied regretfully. “We’re lucky that so far we’ve had no trouble. It’s very different from the Bronx, where I grew up.”
“Why did you pick Waterloo?” Emily asked curiously. “Did you already know Travis?”
Rory glanced at her husband, who was talking to an older man with a face like tanned leather and a bolo tie with a turquoise stone the size and color of a robin’s egg tucked beneath the folds of his chin. “Do you remember that attractive hunk in the choir who sang the solo this morning?” she asked Emily.
“Of course. How could I not? He had a wonderful voice.” And looks to match, she thought. For a small town, Waterloo had more than its share of attractive men.
“That was Charlie, Adam and Travis’s younger brother.” Rory looked around. “He must have ducked out right after the service, probably has a hot date, knowing him. Anyway, he was the first Winchester I met, but that’s a story best told over coffee.”
Emily absorbed the information silently as a little girl who looked to be the same age as Steven asked Rory where he’d gone. She pointed out her son, and the child ran off.
“I understand you’ve already met Adam,” Rory said to Emily.
“Yes, I have.” She was tempted to add more, but since the man was Rory’s brother-in-law, she restrained herself.
“He’s trying to buy you out.”
Her bluntness surprised Emily, who decided to be blunt in return. “He’s been by a couple of times, but I’m not selling. We just got here.”
Rory tossed her head, sending her apricot curls flying. “Good for you. Not getting what he wants will build Adam’s character.” Her smile flashed. “Honey, everyone in the county knows how much he covets your land, but what you decide to do is your business. It doesn’t mean you and I can’t be friends.”
Emily returned her smile. “Thank you. He warned me he’d be back.” She remembered his determination and suppressed a shiver.
“Oh, he will.” Rory leaned closer, her eyes brimming with laughter. “I don’t see a husband in tow, and you aren’t wearing a ring. Does that mean you’re single?”
The forthright question caught Emily off guard. “Divorced.”
“Ah.” Rory’s grin turned smug. “Don’t let Adam push you around. He’s had it tough, and he can be a little intimidating, but he’s as honorable as any man in the county.”
Emily wasn’t sure how to reply. “I’m sure he is,” she said finally, “but I’m still not selling.”
Rory chuckled. “I understand. The character reference I was giving Adam was a personal one.” Her gaze strayed to her spouse. “Winchester men make good husbands.”
“He’s not interested in me that way,” Emily protested, slightly horrified at the idea. “I’m not in the market for a husband or anything else involving a man, honorable or otherwise. All I want is to put down a few roots and provide a peaceful home for my son.”
Rory’s gaze was steady, giving Emily the impression that the other woman could see past her words to the feelings behind them. Rory’s expression softened slightly. “I understand what you’re saying. You just keep standing up to Adam,” she said enigmatically. “You’ll be fine.”
