Dirty-Talking Cowboy (Kinky Spurs 1)
This time, fate got things perfectly right.
* * *
A few hours later, after returning to the farm with Shep, Emma exited the house, the screen door closing with a bang behind her. She sat in the rocking chair to the right that had always been Grams’s spot. Emotion caused heat to radiate through her chest while she rocked back and forth, staring out at the night, knowing she’d made some big decisions today. Choices that ensured she’d never return to her old life in New York City. Choices that would affect her family, since she’d likely now only see them on holidays. A feeling of weightlessness washed over her, and with a smile, she knew she’d made the right decision to say in River Rock with Shep.
The porch light gave off enough illumination to reveal Tadgh and Bentley eating hay out of the trough in the sand ring. The clacking of her rocking chair hitting the porch floor cut through the silence. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders a little tighter, looking to the barn across the way. Now in the darkness, only a tall shadow revealed itself. In the silence, in the darkness, a single truth appeared.
She’d survived.
A hot tear slid down her cheek, shutting her eyes, and warmth surrounded her like Grams was right there with her, showing her pride. The rocking of the chair became rhythmic, drawing Emma in, taking her away from there. Slowly, her mind drifted, bringing her back to a time when she’d heard that same noise.
“He’s a big jerk,” an eighteen-year-old Emma snapped, bringing up her legs to rest her bare feet against the rocking chair’s seat on Grams’s porch.
“Teenage boys can be,” Grams said with a sweet smile. “It seems to be in their nature.”
“Well, I really hope they grow out of it because it’s annoying.” Emma snorted, crossing her arms. “I don’t even know why I want a boyfriend anyway.” She’d only had one serious boyfriend, and Brad dumped her because he didn’t want a girlfriend over the summer. “They are stupid.”
Grams finished sipping her sweet tea and laughed softly. “There will be a day when a boy won’t break your heart, my darling. Just make sure you don’t let that boy pass you by.”
“Was Gramps that boy for you?”
Grams nodded and gave a slight smile. “Your grandfather swept me off my feet the day I met him, and he never did let me down.”
“I hope I have that one day too,” Emma said, not daring to say more. She didn’t want to upset Grams by making her miss Gramps. Emma stared into Grams’s unfocused gaze, not understanding her all that well. “Why do you stay out here all by yourself? You could come live with us in New York City.” Emma paused, biting at her lip. “I mean, don’t you get lonely out here?”
“Lonely?” Grams’s eyes widened before she gestured at the animals in the field. “How could I, with all these animals needing so much of me?”
“I guess you’re right.” Emma’s gaze fell to the injured cow limping around. Her heart hurt. “It’s so awful how people treat them so badly.”
“The
re will always be bad people in this world,” Grams said softly, bringing Emma’s focus back to her. “There’s just no stopping that. But you need to look for the good people, sweetie. They are always out there. When you find those people, hold them close.” Grams hesitated now, tears filling her eyes. “This farm is the result of so many good people. That’s what this place stands for. No matter how much bad there is in the world, there is always light, and a warm place that’s home.”
Emma blinked. Home.
Her chin quivered, and her throat tightened under the emotion swelling inside. So much had happened in a such a short time. It was hard to piece all the little things together to make sense out of everything. But with sudden clarity she simply hadn’t had before, her thoughts closed off and her heart opened, revealing all she needed to know.
Oh, Grams . . .
“All right?”
Emma glanced sideways, finding that Shep had joined her outside. He held a glass of red wine in one hand, a smaller glass filled with scotch in the other. “Sorry,” she said, clearing a tear off her face then accepting the wine glass.
He frowned, placed his glass down on the table between the rocking chairs, and dropped to one knee. He slid his hands along her thighs until both rested on her hips. “You really need to stop apologizing for feeling something. What’s on your mind, darlin’?”
“Grams.”
“Ah,” he said, understanding filling his gaze. “You’re missing her?”
“I’ll always be missing her,” Emma explained. “But I was also thinking about how happy she’d be that I decided to stay here at the farm.”
“You’re right. She would be very happy,” he said with a soft smile. “In fact, I imagine that was likely her plan all along when she left you the house.”
Emma considered then nodded. “I think so too.” She drew in a long, deep breath, all her raw emotions pulling back together and centering into thoughts. With her heart bared, she lifted one hand to Shep’s cheek, her palm pressing against the stubble. “Just over a month ago, I wasn’t sure how I’d ever go home. Or if I did, how I’d pick up the pieces of all that had gone wrong.” Another tear slid down her cheek. “But I’m happy that I never needed to.” Everything suddenly made so much sense. All the things she’d been wondering and trying to figure out seemed so clear, staring into Shep’s eyes. “Fate had never been something I believed in before. I always thought choices are what made up a life. Some bad. Some good. Some catastrophic. But in the end, that’s what determined where a life would go.”
Shep took her hand from her face and kissed her palm, his potent stare never leaving her face. “Now what do you believe?”
“Now I know that fate is intertwined in there too.”