Authors: DanceWith the Rancher
Chapter Eight
They were almost to the homestead, riding side by side, and Garret still hadn’t figured out what he was going to do. He should marry her, but what if he made her miserable and she left him? The reason he’d acted so mad over Emily was because deep down he’d been happy. Waiting for him had been her idea. Not his. When he’d left for school, he’d been glad for the escape, and he’d certainly used the freedom a single man has over the years, but now he no longer wanted that.
Could he change for Rory? He’d attended church with her and his mother the past couple of weeks and hadn’t minded it. Was even taking a larger interest in the community—besides using his law knowledge to press charges against Houston if he was ever stupid enough to return.
“Looks like everyone’s home,” Rory said as they rode around the back side of the house.
“Looks that way,” he answered, noting a saddled horse hitched near the barn. “With company.”
Her sultry smile blasted through his armor. Now that he’d had her, he wanted her more than ever.
“You be nice, Garret McCoy,” she warned. “To whoever it is. They’ll leave soon enough and you’ll still get your work done.”
That was another problem. She knew him so well, and acted as if it didn’t matter.
He stopped near the back door, dismounted and helped her down—which had his fingers burning as they wrapped around her waist. The midnight stars dancing in her eyes made him want to take her right back out to that grassy knoll, repeat every minute they’d just shared. Fighting the urge to kiss her, he gathered the reins of both horses. “I better go see who’s here.”
She cast a smile over one shoulder as she walked toward the house and Garret cursed his knees for growing so sluggish they didn’t want to work.
Several grueling steps later he entered the barn, where his knees locked tight, bringing him to an abrupt stop. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Ray Ray Jepson’s one eye grew wide. “Bringing you your money,” the man said. “I had to make a trip over to Denver the day after the dance. I was half afraid you’d chase me down to get it. Just got home last night.”
Garret wrenched on the reins, pulling the horses behind him. “I don’t want your damn money, Ray Ray.”
“But—”
“Leave,” Garret barked. “Take your money and leave.”
“I can’t believe my ears,” Jeb said, pushing off the stall he’d been leaning against. “You not collecting a bet.”
“Me either,” Toby piped in.
“Me either.”
Dread drenched Garret at the sound of that familiar and feminine voice.
“What was the bet?” Rory added.
Garret doused his brothers with glares. “Don’t you two have work to do?” he asked, hoping to stifle them from answering Rory’s question.
That, of course, wasn’t to be.
“Garret won a bet at Grady Campbell’s barn dance,” Jeb said, moving toward the door.
Toby was headed that way, too, and as he walked past Rory he said, “That he could get you on the dance floor.”
Garret watched her stiffen, all the while feeling as if he was standing in quicksand. He’d known Ray Ray had gone to Denver and had hoped the man wouldn’t return. That she’d never hear about that stupid bet.
“I see.” A pinched smile appeared as she turned to Ray Ray. “How much did he win?”
The fool that he was, Ray Ray grinned. “A hundred and seventy dollars.”
Rory’s gaze returned to him, and it held so many different things, Garret couldn’t find a way to respond, especially not to the hurt. She spun around, marched out of the barn.
Garret, needing to release frustration, slapped the top board of the nearest stall. “Damn it, Ray Ray.”
“I—”
“Get out,” Garret shouted at Ray Ray while storming after Rory, with no idea what he’d do when he caught her.
“Don’t say a word,” she seethed when he did catch up to her.
He snatched her elbow, spun her around.
“Not one word.” She wrenched her arm from his hold.
“Rory—”
She slapped him, a quick wallop on his left cheek that didn’t hurt as badly as it shocked him. His senses returned directly, and he took a step to grab her arm again, make her listen to him.
Someone clearing their throat had him glancing toward the house, where his mother stood on the steps, casting a glare his way while holding a hand out to Rory. His brothers had moved in, too, positioning themselves between him and Rory.
They weren’t much of a barrier. Two good swings and they’d both be on the ground. That, though, wouldn’t impress Rory either, so he spun around, went back to the barn and mounted up. The yard was empty when he rode away. It was best she learned now just how heartless he was. A marriage between them would never work.
* * *
It was well after dark, but Rory had known he’d come sooner or later and attempted to quell the butterflies in her stomach as Garret put his horse in her barn. She’d seen him watching when Toby drove her home a short while ago. His brothers and mother had tried to explain Garret to her, but she hadn’t needed their information, she already knew Garret better than he knew himself, and it was time for him to understand that.
Rory opened the door before he knocked and blocked his entrance. What she lacked in size, she made up for in determination, and she let the glare in her eyes tell him that.
“Was what happened today another bet?” she asked coldly.
He flinched as if slapped again. “No. I’m not that much of an ass.”
“Aren’t you?” she challenged.
“No.”
She grabbed his arm, mainly his shirt sleeve, and pulled him inside the house. “Damn it, Garret McCoy,” she yelled while slamming the door shut behind him. “You aren’t getting out of this that easy.”
Looking stunned, Garret stared at her. She rarely shouted and never cursed, but she’d had enough. Waited long enough.
She marched forward. “I’m done waiting for you to figure it out.” Poking him in the chest with one finger, she stated, “Next week, when the circuit preacher arrives, you’re going to stand in that church and vow to stay married to me until your dying day.”
“Like hell I am,” he shouted back.
“Like hell you aren’t,” she returned. “And you’re going to vow to remain faithful to me, forsaking all others, forever.”
“Who do you think you are?”
With both hands, she grabbed him by the front of the shirt and wrenched it apart, sending buttons in all directions. “I’m the woman you love, you stubborn fool.”
Something flashed in his eyes. “How do you know that?”
Digging her fingers beneath the waistband of his britches, she used the hold to propel herself closer. If her senses had been intact, she might have been worried this could all backfire, but they weren’t. Or maybe they were. Her deepest instincts said she was right. Kissing the underside of his chin, she said, “Because you’d have collected that money from Ray Ray weeks ago if it had been anyone but me.”
God, he was a willful man. Not meeting her gaze, he asked, “How do you know I didn’t ask you to dance because of Emily?”
“Because if you’d loved Emily like you love me, you’d never have left her behind.”
His lips were pinched together as if he was trying not to smile. “I’m not going to church every Sunday.”
“I’ll never ask you to,” she said, pushing his shirt off his shoulders.
His hands grabbed her waist, and she smiled, knowing his self-control was draining away faster than water out of a bucket shot full of bullet holes.
“I won’t volunteer you to clean up after parties, either,” she whispered, just for good measure.
“Why not?”
She lifted her head, met his gaze proudly, firmly. “Because I love you.”
“I’m ornery,” he said, almost regretfully.
“I know,” she said. “And pigheaded, and moody, and you can be about as pleasant to live with as a dead fish.” She grinned and ran a hand down the line of fine hair that disappeared beneath his waistband. “But I still love you.”
Garret grabbed her face with both hands. “You won’t regret it? Marrying me?”
She shook her head. “Not one minute.” Giggling at the growl he let out, she said, “Admit it, McCoy, you’ve met your match.”
“You’re right, damn it.”
She laughed.
He kissed her then, a wild, fantastic kiss. When he let her come up for air, he said, “I do love you.”
“I know, and you always will.”
He hoisted her into the air and carried her across the room to her bedroom. Laying her onto the bed, he asked, “Will you dance with me if I ask?”
“You can bet on it,” she answered.
* * * * *
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ISBN: 9781460317570
Copyright © 2013 by Lauri Robinson
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