Song for a Cowboy (Kings of Country 2)

“More?” He shook his head. “I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

“Emmy never got your letters. She wasn’t the one who sent them back.” Sawyer was watching him closely. “And her mom kept Emmy’s letters so you never got hers.”

“Motherfucker.” The words were a harsh whisper. It was amazing how quickly those old wounds began to heal.

“When you came over, nobody else knew.” Sawyer’s jaw stiffened. “That was CiCi making sure she’d cut the last threads between the two of you.”

“Which she did.” He stood, pacing. “How do you know all of this?”

“It’s my job.” Sawyer shrugged, his eyes narrowing. “What does Vanessa have on you?”

Brock spun to face him. “What?”

“Why else wouldn’t you go after Emmy? Vanessa has something on you. Something bad.”

Brock shook his head. “No.”

“Then why are you letting this happen again?” Sawyer stood.

“I’m all for employee loyalty, here. But why are you so invested in Emmy Lou’s happiness?” He paused. “I see how protective you are of her—but I’m getting that it’s not your standard security-guard protocol.”

Sawyer’s face didn’t twitch. “I have my reasons.”

“I have mine.” Brock sighed, so tired everything hurt. “Are we done here?”

Sawyer pushed out of the chair. “I guess. I was expecting more. I don’t think you realize how long she’s loved you.”

“Probably as long as I’ve loved her.” My whole damned life.

“Then you’d be a damn fool not to fight for her. You sit here and say you want her protected—is that my job? Or yours?” Sawyer gave him a head-to-toe once-over. “Good luck tomorrow.”

When Sawyer left, Brock felt more unsettled than ever.

Emmy had been pissed when she’d admitted it, but she had admitted she’d never stopped loving him. She had written to him—like he’d written to her. She’d waited, hoping…questioning and doubting and wondering what had gone wrong.

CiCi King had set the perfect trap. The story the pictures told was a lie, but the pictures were real. So was the suspicion and hurt they’d caused.

It was a stark contrast to the memories he had of his time in the King household. He’d always felt welcome. Even with a wall covered in gold and platinum albums, they’d been good people. Hank King had always been supportive and focused.

But thinking back, he realized CiCi had rarely been around. If she had, maybe he wouldn’t remember things so fondly.

Sawyer’s parting dig had him more than a little riled up. Loving Emmy wasn’t a job or a burden; it was a gift. She was a gift. Knowing that the woman who’d brought Emmy into this world, the woman who should put her children above all else, could hurt her so? Yet CiCi had done just that. She’d twisted something good and pure to keep Emmy under her thumb and riddled with self-doubt.

He wasn’t one for hating, but CiCi King stirred something powerfully close to it. Still, she was Emmy’s mother. Hating the woman wouldn’t do any of them any good.

He packed up an overnight bag. Tonight, he’d stay at the hospital with his father. Tomorrow, after the game, he and Aunt Mo would move his dad back into Green Gardens Alzheimer’s clinic. Now that his father was on the right meds, there was a chance his mental clarity would last a little longer. With everything else going on in his life, Brock needed his family more than ever.

With any luck, Aunt Mo or his father would have some pearls of wisdom to help him sort out how to win Emmy back.

Chapter 20

“Please, please, please give me tea.” Emmy Lou was wiping the sleep from her eyes. “What time is it?” Even Watson looked perturbed by Krystal and Jace’s sudden invasion.

“It’s nine.” Krystal flopped onto the bed beside her. “Open your eyes. You’re going to want to see this.”

“Tea, please?” She smothered a yawn.

“Jace?” Krystal called out. “Can you make Emmy some—”