Boots and the Bachelor (13 page)

God, she'd been an idiot to believe he really loved her and Dalton. Gwen slid the window down and waited for the lawman and her ticket.

The deputy got out of his vehicle and stepped up to her window. “Gwendolyn Graves?” he asked.

“Yes, sir.”

“There's someone who'd like to talk to you before you get away.” The deputy stepped back and Angus took his place.

He tried to open her door. “Gwen, we need to talk.”

“I'm done talking.” Despite her efforts to hold back, the tears slipped from her eyes. “Thank you for getting Wayne off my back. But I'm afraid I can't see you anymore.”

“If this is about my mother's threat to sell the ranch, let me explain.”

“You don't have to explain anything. You needed a wife. I was stupid enough to think you needed me. Well, I don't need you. And I won't let Dalton be a pawn in your bid to keep the ranch.”

“Gwen, you don't understand.”

“Oh, I understand all too well.” Gwen shifted into gear and took off, leaving Angus standing on the side of the road in the flashing lights of the sheriff's cruiser.

Tears blinded her and she nearly missed her turn.

Sirens sounded again and she debated ignoring them and continuing on her course to Grant and Mona's. But the rule follower in her made her slow to a stop.

She slid her window down. “You're supposed to be a representative of the law. What reason do you have to pull me over this time?” she shouted.

The deputy stood to the side of her door. “Please step out of the vehicle.”

“I'm not fuckin' believing this.” She climbed out of the vehicle and glared at the deputy. “Where is he?”

“I don't know what you're talking about. Please hold out your hand.”

“Why?” she asked, doing as she was told.

He snapped a handcuff on to her wrist. “Ma'am, I'm afraid I can't let you leave the county until you talk to my friend Angus McFarlan.” The deputy held out the other end of the handcuffs.

Angus appeared and snapped the cuff on his own wrist. “Thanks, Dusty. I owe you one.”

“Just don't tell the boss. He frowns on me arresting people for crimes of the heart.” Dusty pointed a finger at Gwen. “Give the man a chance. He's one of the good guys.” The deputy then climbed into his cruiser and drove away.

“He left!” Gwen tried to point her finger at the disappearing cruiser, but the movement brought Angus's hand with hers. “How are we supposed to get this thing off?”

“I guess we could follow him around on his shift until we catch up. But, first, I'd like to set a few things straight.”

“Don't bother.” Gwen turned to her car and waved a hand toward the interior. “You'll have to crawl across the console. I'm not.”

Angus sighed. “I'll get in, but you're going to listen.”

“Whatever.” She waited for him to brush past her, his body touching her, sending a shock of electrical charges through her. He climbed across the driver's seat, in the process pulling her into the vehicle, sitting on the horn and knocking the shift out of gear. By the time Angus settled in the passenger seat, Gwen could swear she had a few bruises.

She shut her door and, with Angus's help, shifted into gear and drove to the hardware store.

“My mother's ultimatum had nothing to do with my feelings for you.”

“Why don't I believe you?”

“Because you don't want to give me a chance. You're afraid to let yourself love me.”

“I'm not afraid of loving you, because it's not going to happen. Once burned and all that…”

“Then tell me why you bought me at the auction, if deep down inside you didn't harbor some kind of hope that there was something still there?”

Her chest tightened and her gut twisted. “Dalton needed a role model.”

“Bullshit.”

“It's true. He needs a man to teach him how to play sports.”

“You could have chosen any cowboy that night. But you chose me.” He smiled. “And paid a lot of money for the privilege.” His hand curled around hers, their cuffs clanking, metal on metal.

Gwen drifted to a halt at a stop sign, her eyes blurring again. She wanted to hate him for exposing her for the fraud she was, but he'd lied too. “You only went along with my dates because you needed a wife to appease your mother.”

He shook his head. “No, I didn't.”

“What other reason did you have? It's been seven years.”

“I know. And I will forever regret that I didn't come after you. I thought you'd be better off without me and the ranch and all my responsibilities slowing you down.”

“What if I wanted to be slowed down? You didn't even give me the choice.” She shoved his hand away, but it only went so far before the chain binding them brought it up short. “You didn't come after me.”

“I was hurt that you didn't tell me goodbye. I thought you had used me for a summer fling before going back to school. Even so, I was going to follow you to College Station the week after you left, but my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. I couldn't leave her. Not when my father had died six months earlier, one brother was away at school and the other had left a year earlier and had yet to return for more than a day.”

Gwen bit her bottom lip. “You had to stay and help your mother.”

“By the time she made it through surgery and chemo, it was over a year. I looked for you in College Station, but you'd moved and left no forwarding address. I realize now I should have kept looking. I didn't know you'd kept in touch with Mona.”

“All that time.” Gwen sat with her foot on the brake, her gaze staring out as if looking into the past.

“When you showed up at the Ugly Stick, I wasn't sure I wanted to start over with you. It hurt too much to lose you the first time. I loved you so very much and I still do.”

“How can I believe you?” Gwen shook her head. “Of course you were happy I fell into your arms. If some poor girl hadn't come along, you stood to lose everything you'd worked so hard for. Land that has been in your family for over a hundred years, the breeding program you built from the ground up. Everything.”

“I don't care about those things.”

“Don't fill me full of more lies. You love those things.”

A horn honked behind them.

Gwen realized she was still sitting at a stop sign and another vehicle had pulled up behind them. She pressed her foot to the accelerator and drove to a church parking lot and shifted into Park.

Angus captured her cheek with his unencumbered hand. “The ranch and the horses are things I can live without.”

“Yeah, but you wouldn't have to if I went along with your plans.”

“Gwen, will you listen?” He chuckled. “I'm selling my herd to Jackson.”

“You're what?” She stared at him, her heart thumping hard against her ribs. “Selling the horses you love?”

“I don't love my horses. I love you. I'm negotiating with Jackson Gray Wolf to purchase my breeding stock. Gwen, I'm selling out and moving to Dallas. I talked to my boss at the firm. They have an office they can put my name on. All I have to do is tell them when.”

His words whirled around her but didn't want to stick. “But your mother's ultimatum.”

“She can sell the damned ranch. I don't care about it. I care about you and Dalton. I have a feeling he and I are going to be great buds. If you let me become part of your life.”

“But the ranch…” Gwen stared at Angus, her mouth hanging slack, “…how can you walk away from your family heritage?”

“Easy. If staying means losing you, I'd walk away from a hundred family ranches.”

Her heart soared and she leaned across the console and caught his face between her palms. “You mean it?”

Angus grinned. “Every word.”

She kissed him hard, her free hand circling the back of his neck to hold him closer, deepening their contact. When at last she broke free and sat back, breathing hard, she laughed out loud, feeling lighter, younger and more carefree than she'd felt in seven years.

“So, is there room in your and Dalton's lives for a cowboy without a ranch?” He held out his hands.

She laid hers in his. “Damn right there is. But if it's all the same to you, I don't want you to give up the ranch and the horses. They're a part of what makes you so special.”

He winked. “I can be special without them.”

“Dalton has such high hopes of you teaching him how to ride. And he wants his own pony and puppy. I can't keep a dog in Dallas. But I could commute a couple days a week.”

“I could too. And I've always wanted to design and build my own house on the property.”

“So does that mean I get the rest of my eight dates?” Gwen asked.

“That and so much more.” Angus pulled her across the console and into his lap, kissing her soundly.

After several minutes, Gwen glanced up and noticed several cars pulling into the parking lot, their passengers glaring at them.

“Uh, sweetheart. It's Sunday.”

Gwen laughed. “You think we'll go to hell for making out in the church parking lot?”

“If we are, let's make it good.” Angus covered her mouth with his and gave the old ladies a good show.

Gwen laughed into his mouth and clung to him, promising herself she'd never let him go again.

Epilogue

Colin hit the last number and held his breath while the phone rang four times. He'd chosen to call using the phone at Molly's, knowing Brody wouldn't answer if he called from home.

On the fourth ring, someone picked up. “Hello.”

“Brody McFarlan?” he asked.

“Yeah, who is this?”

His gut tightened. “Colin.”

“What do you want?” His tone was flat, unemotional and a little annoyed.

Colin had rehearsed the entire conversation about how their mother had given them an ultimatum and demanded all three of them get their lives together, but with his brother's cranky tone, he didn't think he'd get halfway through his spiel before Brody hung up.

Instead, Colin said, “Mom's sick, maybe dying. You need to come home.”

About the Author

Twenty years of livin' and lovin' on a South Texas ranch, raising horses, cattle, ostriches and emus, left an indelible impression on Myla Jackson, one she likes to instill in her red-hot stories. Myla pens wildly sexy, fun adventures of all kinds, including historical westerns, medieval, romantic suspense, contemporary and paranormals with beasties of all shapes and sexy sizes. When she's not wrangling words from her computer, she's snow skiing, boating, riding her ATV or spending time with family. She lives in the tree-covered hills of Northwest Arkansas with her husband of twenty-plus years and her muses—human wannabe canines Chewy and Sweetpea.

To learn more about Myla Jackson and her stories, visit her website at
www.mylajackson.com
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The best gift has nothing to do with the size of the package.

Ugly Stick Saloon,
Book 8

Married to the love of her life, Audrey Anderson is ready to get this baby show on the road. Except six months of timing sex around her ovaries' cycle has not only dampened their spontaneity, it hasn't worked. She's still not pregnant.

Jackson would love to give Audrey half a dozen children, but he can't stand the heartache in her eyes as each month goes by with no “plus” sign on the test strip. Hell, he's ready to call it and concentrate on just being a happy couple.

When a runaway mother arrives at the Ugly Stick with a newborn in tow and needing a job, Audrey, ever the tender heart, takes them in—at the saloon and her home—despite the baby's presence being a constant reminder of her own empty arms.

Baby Mia turns out to be a blessing in disguise, but just as life settles into a rhythm as pleasant as a cow pony's lope, the runaway mama's painful past comes roaring after her with the force of a prairie tornado, threatening to destroy anything in its path, including Audrey and the Ugly Stick Saloon.

Warning: It's the holiday season at the Ugly Stick and time to wrap the saloon in mistletoe. No need for hot cocoa, there's enough pull-out-all-the-stops heat between this sexy bar owner and her handsome cowboy to keep every reader warm.