Trying the Knot Page 4

  "I know this has been eating at you, Jackson. Take the time to do what you need to do. We'll be here with whatever support you need. If you decide you need to leave permanently, I'll understand that too. Maybe."

  Brock held his hand out to shake, then he pulled Jackson in for a back-slapping hug. "I already consider you my brother."

  Jackson's eyes burned but he held the tears back by force of will. Brock's eyes were glossy as well. Maybe being with Payton was having a softening effect on the hard cowboy, his friend. "I've always considered you a brother," he admitted.

  The men pulled away and wiped at their eyes, laughing.

  "Couple'a damn hens we are," Brock groused. "In all seriousness, I'm here for anything. Maybe it's time we expand to Houston. You know, maybe you should hook up with Holt Martin. I bet he'd have a place for you to stay for a while. Hell, he'd love to have you come down and gush over his stock. You could check on that mare I've been looking at. Maybe you can talk him into letting her go." Brock shrugged. "Do what you need to do, Jackson, and I'll support you. But if he tries to lure you away you're going to have fight on your hands. Just so you know."

  Jackson laughed, doubting that would ever happen.

  Garrett told him a version of the same thing. "I don't know about that youngest of mine. I thought it was all a done deal between you two till she came back engaged. At the very least you go down to the city and check that boy out, Jackson. I doubt he's good enough for my Emily."

  "I doubt he is either," Jackson mused, leaning his arm on the saddle horn. The horse, one of the colts he was training, shifted beneath him, but Jackson stilled him with a word. That was one of the things he would miss, working with the horses. Literally, every day he was up with the dawn and getting things done. Maybe Holt was the way to go. He could work while he was fighting to get Emily back. Because that's what he planned to do.

  * * *

  Holt Martin had a spread to rival the Blue Star, but it was dedicated to premier horseflesh, not a cow on the horizon. It was right on the western edge of Houston city limits. His family had had the acreage for generations. For the past hundred and fifty years the Martin family had been one of the best in the nation for top notch horses and well-bred, registered Quarter Horses since the inception of the AQHA Registry in 1940. If you wanted a future grand dam for your cutting line, they had options for you. As long as you were willing to spend big bucks to get them.

  As Jackson pulled down the mile long, tree shrouded lane to the main barn, he couldn't help but be a little envious. This was an amazing spread. He let his truck coast down the drive, eyeing the horses in the field. They were prime, and he was dying to get his hands on a few of them.

  A tall man in dirty jeans and a well-worn black hat met him as soon as he stopped. Holt Martin had the cowboy look down pat, and Jackson had seen women fall all over themselves trying to get his attention. The man had a single-minded love of horses, though. He’d built a flourishing business on them though it was hard to believe just from looking at him that he was a multimillionaire.

  Jackson took his hand as soon as he got out of the truck. "Good to see you, Holt."

  "Jackson. I never thought you'd make your way down here. I'm more than happy to have you, though. Come on in."

  Holt led the way into the shadowed barn, out of the heat. Inside the barn, custom stalls lined the aisle, black iron bars allowing peeks of the horses inside. Huge industrial fans droned overhead, keeping the horses cool. Jackson headed to the first stall and leaned into the bars. A beautiful little filly looked back at him, ears pricked forward. She was a pretty little thing.

  They were all pretty, and as he moved down the aisle Holt gave him a quick biographical sketch of every horse Jackson took an interest in. Which ones he thought were going to be champions and which were going to be stock horses. He also pointed out a few of his favorites.

  Leaning against a stall wall he motioned inside to a calm, bright eyed little horse.

  "The breeding on this filly is not bad, but something about her tells me she's going to go all the way." The chestnut mare lowered her head to him to be scratched and Holt massaged her ears.

  Jackson knew that Holt was well-known for his 'feelings' and he looked even closer at the little mare. Her legs were true and she had a wide, intelligent eye. The hindquarters were well-muscled and strong and he could tell that she'd had the best care by the shine of her hide.

  "She's beautiful. I can see why you like her."

  There was more eye candy than Jackson could even take in, and a training barn to rival the Blue Star's.

  "Garrett called and said that you might need a place to hang while you're here, so I thought you could hang here, as long as you don't mind sleeping in the barn."

  Jackson raised an eyebrow at him and Holt shrugged. "Yeah, didn't think so."

  Holt led him up an outside set of stairs above the training barn. The door at the top of the stairs was locked. Digging a key ring from his pocket, Holt unlocked the door, then handed the ring to Jackson and opened the door.

  The apartment was nicer than Jackson had expected, long expanses of cool gray tile floors with paler gray walls. The furniture looked soft and comfortable, and the kitchen looked equipped to cook anything. "I will only stay here if you let me work for you a bit. I can train or exercise. Hell, I'm not too good to muck stalls if that's what you need."

  Holt shrugged, giving him a narrow-eyed look. "Fuck that. There's no way you're mucking stalls while you're here. I know I wouldn't mind having a Jackson Windwalker trained colt in my barn, though."

  Jackson laughed and inclined his head, tipping his hat with two fingers. "Sounds like we've got a deal."

  Holt shook on it and pounded him on the back. "Once you get settled in come on down and we'll see what kind of horse we can find for you."

  Chapter Six

  Emily kicked off her heels as soon as she walked into her condo. They landed with a thump and a skitter on the tile that probably wouldn't do the leather any good, but she was too tired to even care. Going away for any length of time was always hard because the work always accumulated on her desk while she was gone. Though she had an assistant, apparently Mackenzie hadn't felt capable of handling anything on her own.

  They would have to work on that.

  Emily glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. After eight in the evening. She knew she needed to eat something but she didn't have the energy to even look. She started shucking her clothes as she crossed to the bedroom, needing a bath with a desperation she hadn't felt for a long time. She twisted the hot tap to open and squirted in a stream of peach scented bubble bath into the water, then went to use the bathroom. She hadn't even taken a few minutes to pee more than once today.

  As she sank into the steaming water, she nearly wept, it felt so good. You would think that wearing heels for six or seven years would be enough to train your feet, but a weekend in old comfortable boots had wrecked that. For two weeks she'd been struggling with getting her feet used to heels again. It was ridiculous.

  Her cell phone rang in the kitchen but she didn't even glance in that direction. Whoever it was could wait. She had things to do.

  The phone stilled for a few minutes, then started ringing again. Emily did her best to ignore it, but in three minutes it rang again. Then again.

  "What the hell, people? What is so important that it can't wait for a few minutes?"

  Then the thought occurred to her that it might be about her dad. All of the tension she'd almost gotten rid of rolled back, threatening to swallow her again. There would be no relaxation now unless she confirmed that it wasn't about her father.

  As she stood up in the tub, she let the water sheet down her body before stepping out onto the absorbent mat. Wrapping a towel around herself she tiptoed into the kitchen.

  Neil had called her. Nine times. What the hell?

  Swiping her phone on she scanned the dropdown notifications. Four messages. She called voicemail and listened.


  "Emily. I realize your time is important but you need to call me back, please."

  Dial tone. She pressed seven to delete the message.

  "Emily, where the hell are you. You should be home by now."

  Scowling, she pressed seven again.

  "Emily, you need to call me immediately."

  Shaking her wet head she pressed seven, then waited for the last message.

  "Emily, you know my time is precious. I don't understand why you're playing this game. Call me back."

  She looked at the phone on her hand. What the hell was he thinking? Angry, she hit the power button on the phone and the option to shut it down. There was nothing so pressing that she needed to call him back immediately. That was ridiculous.

  By the time she made it back to the tub the water was tepid. Pushing the plunger on the drain she let most of it flow out, then refilled it with straight hot water. She stepped back into the tub and sank down into the heat, letting it roll over her in a wash of comfort.

  Neil had been especially possessive since she'd gotten back from Honeywell this time and she didn't understand why. Her own guilty conscience suggested that he somehow knew she'd kissed another man, but she doubted that was the case. They'd only seen each other twice in two weeks, once for lunch and the other time for a dinner sponsored by Neil's realty company. Both times they'd been cordial but not especially friendly. He'd asked her about the plans for her brother’s wedding but hadn't seemed especially interested in the answer. When she'd mentioned the date again and asked him if he was going to be able to make it to the ceremony, he'd told her 'I don't see why not' which was not a definite yes or no.

  Emily knew it was because of Jackson that she'd begun to question Neil's commitment. They seemed like a perfect couple. She worked for an advertising firm and he sold beautiful houses. They should be a match made in heaven but for some reason it wasn't.

  Sinking beneath the line of the water she let the scalding heat distract her, easing her anxieties about her future. Or at least she tried to. It worried her that Neil had no desire to go to the ranch and meet her parents or siblings.

  And if she was honest she would admit that things hadn't been peachy between them for a while. Neil was a very exacting man and she understood that, but her life wasn't scheduled right down to the minute or dime. She had flexibility in her free time and she valued it. Neil just looked for more ways to make money and sell houses.

  Emily took as much time in the bath as she felt she needed, then took her time with her hair, blowing it dry and styling it lightly. She hated to go to bed with wet hair because it ended up in such a mess.

  Then she headed to the kitchen to scrounge something up for dinner.

  Neil answered her call on the first ring. "Where have you been, Emily?"

  Immediately she was on the defensive. "I was in the bathtub, relaxing."

  There was no way she would tell him that she'd gotten out of the bath just to see who had called. That would satisfy him too much.

  "Why do you bathe in dirty water? That's disgusting. Showers are more hygienic."

  Rolling her eyes she struggled not to laugh. She'd been taking baths all her life, as well as showers, and she wouldn't be nixing one of her greatest pleasures just because he didn't like it.

  "What did you need, Neil? You called eleven times."

  "I thought you were ignoring me."

  "So, calling more would make me pick up sooner?"

  Emily cringed at the cattiness but she couldn't help it.

  Rather than answer her he changed the subject. "I have a new client and he wants to go out this weekend to look at properties. I'm going to have to cancel our shopping trip."

  Oh. Emily clamped down on a laugh because she'd forgotten about their 'shopping' trip. Neil wanted to go out and look at new cars because he didn't consider his BMW enough of a status symbol for the Houston scene. "That's fine. I need to catch up on some things myself. We can do it next weekend or something."

  "I knew you'd be sensible about this Emily. I'll text you later on this week."

  "Okay. Good night, Neil."

  He hung up on her without so much as a goodbye which, for some reason pissed her off to no end. If you were in love with someone and tying your life to their own, shouldn't you at least tell them good night? Or goodbye? Later Alligator? Something?

  Emily wanted to throw something, but she refrained. This was a situation she'd created herself and she had no one to blame but herself.

  Jackson's words came back to from the night she left the farm. 'Shouldn't you feel something?'

  Yes, she should.

  Emily went to bed feeling discombobulated, cranky and out of sorts, knowing that she had to make changes in her life but not sure exactly how to do it or where to start.

  Chapter Seven

  Emily didn't think she felt like talking to anyone the next morning but when her sister called she picked up. If anyone could bring her out of a funk it was Cheyenne.

  "Hey, Sister Chicken," Cheyenne sing-songed.

  Emily laughed. "Hey, Trouble. What are you up to?"

  "I'm looking at the samples of dresses that Daddy sent us. Did you look at them?"

  Emily cursed under her breath. "No, I didn't. I saw the email but I haven't had a chance to open it yet. I've been swamped at work."

  "Don't work too hard. You have a wedding to get to in two months, or there about."

  "I know," Emily sighed. "Let me find my tablet."

  It was on the kitchen counter under a magazine. Plopping down onto the chair, she scrolled through her messages and found the one from her father. "No, way. Daddy picked these out?"

  "Yes," Cheyenne said with soft emphasis.

  The dresses were all gorgeous, pretty confections of lace and tulle. There were four all in a row, in a shade of beautiful sea foam green. Two were short, knee length, and the other two were longer. "Has Lora seen these?"

  "Yes," Cheyenne confirmed. "These are actually the ones she narrowed his list down to. He had over a dozen for her to choose from. Lora picked the color out though."

  "I love the color," Emily murmured, looking at each dress individually. "I don't know. I think I love the little tea length dress with the lace capped sleeves. What do you think?"

  "Yes! The same! I knew you'd pick that. It think it will compliment all of our colorings. And Daddy had another idea."

  "Okay," Emily said warily. "What's that?"

  Her phone pinged.

  "Look at the pic I just sent you."

  Emily paged through to her text messages. "Cowboy boots?"

  "Yup. Lora loves the idea. She had already planned to do it herself, and Mercy will be the flower girl, of course. Lora planned to let her wear her boots as well. What do you think?"

  Emily could tell by the excitement in Cheyenne's voice that she loved the idea. "I'm in."

  "Okay, perfect! I have a few more calls to make to the other bridesmaids to get their votes. I think the boots are a darling idea."

  Emily laughed. "They are. I can't believe Daddy came up with all this."

  "I know, right?" Cheyenne's voice was hushed, like they were telling secrets. "It's a little scary how well he's doing. I asked Mama how much she had done, and she says he's been the one picking everything out."

  "Wow. That's a little scary."

  "So," Cheyenne drew out the word for several beats and Emily knew what was coming. "Any word on when your wedding will be?"

  She sighed, knowing that Cheyenne only asked because she loved her little sister. "No. Not yet. If anything, it might be getting a little further away." She told Cheyenne about taking the bath and the interruptions.

  "Jeez! He needs to chill. Are you sure you want to wrap yourself up in that? Take it from the voice of experience. It only gets worse later on."

  Emily knew Cheyenne was right, but it was hard admitting it. "Yeah. So," she said, injecting enthusiasm into her voice, "what's up with you and Sheridan? Are you guys thinking about tying the knot
?"

  Cheyenne laughed. "Yes, we will. After everything else settles down. This is Chad and Lora's time."

  "Yes. You're right. Well, I know you don't need my approval, but just know that you have it. Sheridan is one of the true blue good guys."

  "I know," Cheyenne sighed. "You wouldn't believe how awesome he is. I've gained five pounds just from those darn coffee drinks he keeps getting me! But I love them. And the girls are just head over heels for him. Emily, it's so perfect it hurts."

  "Aw," she said, her own throat a little tight with emotion. Her sister deserved happiness after all she'd been through. "I am so happy for you and the girls."

  "And I think Olivia is loving us too. It's so hard to tell with teenagers."

  Emily laughed. "I can imagine. Is Lora getting anxious? Have you talked to her?"

  "I have," Cheyenne murmured, "but she doesn't seem anxious at all. I think in her own mind they've been married for the past couple years, you know? I mean, they've been living together long enough. They bought a new house together. They've done everything a married couple does, just without the paperwork."

  "Yes, that's true enough."

  "Well," Cheyenne told her, "I better let you get back to avoiding your boyfriend."

  "Trouble maker," Emily hissed, laughing.

  She looked at her phone for a long moment, though, after Cheyenne hung up. Though it had been said in jest she knew if Neil called right this moment she would refuse the call. Was she looking for ammunition to use against him?

  Was this really how she should be feeling toward him?

  Chapter Eight

  Jackson searched for a glimmer of any kind of redeeming quality in the man before him, but he just wasn't seeing it. Jackson supposed Neil was a good-enough looking guy if you went for the never-dirtied-my-hands-for-anything city boy type. Golden blond haired and blue eyed, it was obvious he'd had a privileged background and now lived a privileged lifestyle. He drove a nice BMW, Jackson thought, but mentioned several times that he'd been about to go out this weekend to upgrade but his fiancée had begged off for some reason.