Crazy for Cowboy (20 page)

Had he ever really had her? Some fictional cowboy had held her, kissed her, dreamed about her. He had no right to feel this way, as though he was losing the most precious thing in his life. As though he were...in love.

“But what can I do about it now? I’ve already accepted Nick’s offer and Emily won’t return my phone calls.”

Ally leaned in close to him, her expression grim. “You may be too late.”

* * *

Emily parked her truck on the street in front of the small, pink bungalow that had been the home of her youth, the house her mother had purchased when they’d first moved to Calgary when Emily was fourteen.

She really hadn’t missed Saskatchewan. They’d had few friends and no relatives. In fact, her mother had always shied away from talk about family and roots. Perhaps, that’s why Emily longed for them all the more.

She climbed out of her truck and headed up the walkway to the front door where her mother stood, ready to greet her. Emily remembered the woman who had taught her how to skate, the one who helped her with algebra, the one she used to be so close to.

Cora had changed physically over the years, of course. She was a little older, her brown hair a little lighter, her gray eyes now dependent on a pair of glasses, but it was the change in their relationship that hit Emily the hardest. It was as though a sheet of ice separated them.

“Come on in, honey,” Cora said and gave her an air kiss. “I’ve got the tea ready.” Emily followed her mother into the living room and sat down on the pastel blue sofa.

“We’ll have our tea in here, shall we? So much more civilized,” her mother said, and ran off to the kitchen to rattle some cups and saucers. If this visit mimicked the others, Cora would spend most of the time in that room. She always found something there to occupy herself whenever Emily mentioned her father.

Cora returned with a tray, which held two cups and a plateful of cookies. She set it down on the coffee table in front of Emily.

“There you go. I just have to pop back into the kitchen. I have a roast in the oven and—”

“Sit for a minute, Mom.”

“Oh, I will. After I’ve basted the—”

“Please, Mom. Please, sit down. I need to talk to you about something.”

The color drained from Cora’s face. “You’re not ill, are you?”

“No. But I do need to talk to you. Won’t you sit down?”

Cora moved toward the loveseat across the room.

“No, Mom.” Emily patted the cushion beside her. “Sit here. Beside me.”

Her mother hesitated then slowly moved toward the couch, sitting on the edge of the seat, ready to flee at the earliest possible moment.

“Mom, I don’t want to upset you, but I really need to ask you about something.” Emily took her mother’s hand. “I want to know about my father.”

Cora tried to pull away, but Emily held fast. “Please, Mom. I know it’s upsetting for you. It’s upsetting for me, too. I wouldn’t ask you if it wasn’t important.”

“There
is
something wrong, then. You’ve been diagnosed with a medical condition and you need to know your history. Is that it?”

Emily laughed. “I guess you could say Jackie diagnosed me with a heart condition. A broken-heart condition.”

“What do you mean? What’s all this about?”

Emily took a moment to collect her thoughts. “Mom, there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to blurt it out. I keep falling for men who leave me. Jackie thinks it has something to do with my father.” She shifted her weight, moving closer. “I need to know why he left me, Mom.”

Cora clapped her free hand to her chest. “Is that what you think? That you’re father left because of you?”

“Didn’t he?”

“Sweetheart.” Cora reached up, as though she was going to touch Emily’s face, then brought her hand back to her chest. “I didn’t realize you thought that.”

“It’s not true? He didn’t leave because of me?

“No.” Cora slipped off the couch and away from her daughter. She crossed to the other side of the room and fidgeted with a bouquet of silk flowers set in a rose colored vase. “You’re father doesn’t know about you. I never told him.”

Emily was too stunned to reply. All she could do was sit and wait for her mother to continue.

“When I was going to college, I fell in love with a man I couldn’t have, a brilliant, older man who already had a family. I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t care. I started a relationship with him. It was the best...and worst time of my life. Holding him in my arms was like heaven. Knowing that I was coming between him and his family was worse than hell. It was only a matter of months before we both came to our senses and called it off. He returned to his wife and I went back to my studies. Then I found out I was pregnant.”

Feeling as if someone had plowed her in the gut, Emily could barely draw breath. Her mom had slept with a married man? She, herself, was illegitimate? She wanted to hate the woman who bore her for the betrayal. And yet, Emily knew what it was to love a man. Even the wrong man.

“I didn’t want to hurt him or intrude on his family again,” her mother went on. “So, I never told him about you. I left town. Even though I was pregnant and alone, I realized I had been given a great gift. I had a part of him. His baby. Something I would always have. A daughter I could love. And, after seeing you, I knew that, in following my heart, I had made the right choice. I didn’t want to be the thing that came between him and his family. Just as I would never want anything to come between you and me.” She turned to Emily, her fingers still caressing the flowers. “But it did, didn’t it?”

Emily nodded. “For a while.” She ran to her mother and embraced her. They stood together, holding each other, letting the tears fall. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Does it help?”

“Does it ever. I feel so much...lighter.”

Cora cupped her daughter’s face, brushing the tears away. “I never meant to hurt you, Emily.”

“I know that, Mom.” As she hugged her mother a second time, a strange vibration passed between them.

“Was that you’re stomach rumbling?”

“No. That was my cell. But those cookies do look delicious.”

“Well, eat one while you check your message. I’ll put the kettle on again. I’m sure our tea has gone cold by now.” Cora disappeared around the corner of the kitchen, but poked her head back in. “I’ll only be a moment,” she assured her daughter.

Emily smiled then glanced at the caller ID on her phone. The call was from Brandon. That made eight. So far.

She sat back down on the couch, picked up a cookie and bit into it. Jacks was right. She’d needed this talk with her mom. Now that she knew the truth about her father, everything was different.

And, yet, nothing was different. Brandon was still going to Australia. Was it ridiculous of her to hope for something more?

She looked up to see her mother, returning to the room with a fresh pot of tea. A wave of admiration swept over her. Here was a woman, who had made a mistake but had tried to do the right thing in the end.

Emily wondered if she would have had the same conviction. When it came to Brandon Hollister, would she have the same courage as her mother? Could she overlook everything and follow her heart?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Brandon eyed the four-legged creature beside him, his heart banging in his chest.

He’d arrived on the set early and received a grand welcome from Nick and the entire production team, complete with assurances that another horse had been found to replace the unpredictable King.

Brandon tried to relax but found himself fidgeting, as if his limbs possessed a life of their own. Part of his problem was sleep deprivation. He’d spent most of the night staring at the phone, hoping Emily would call. Instead of feeling exhausted from his nocturnal vigil, he was wound up tighter than Tutankhamen’s mummy.

And there was that added problem of getting on a horse again.

He tried to rationalize his fears. Just because King threw him, it didn’t mean this horse would. Besides, he only had to ride the animal into the camera frame. That wasn’t such a big deal. And this horse was very even tempered, he’d been told. The mare was used to being in front of the camera.

Up ahead, he could see the other rider already mounted in the saddle. This was the first time he would meet the character of the sheriff, and the macho movie star who played him. Brandon couldn’t afford to look squeamish. Summoning his courage, he put his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up onto the horse.

“Stand-by,” Nick called out. “This is a rehearsal. Everyone in position? Action.”

Brandon used the reins to motion the animal forward, as Sam had taught him to do. He braced himself for the surge of energy that King had displayed and was pleasantly surprised to find that the horse beneath him was docile and compliant.

Able to relax, he shifted gears and concentrated on his role. Trying to look tough, while meeting the sheriff with apathy at the same time, was tricky. Especially with the scores of female fans standing around, waiting for a glimpse of Houston Savage.

Brandon’s horse drew closer, near enough that he could make out the features of the other rider. Tanned, blond...familiar.

“Cut.”

“Good job,” the fellow with the sheriff’s badge called out. “But save the fire in your eyes. We’re in a long shot, kid. The camera won’t pick it up.”

Kid?
Brandon blinked. It was that stand-in again. Where the hell was Savage this time?

“Let’s try it one more time, gentlemen,” the director yelled.

Brandon turned his horse around and headed back to his starting position. The animal’s trainer stood close by. The man dug into his pocket and thrust a treat under the mare’s nose.

“Isn’t Houston Savage going to be in this scene?” Brandon asked the man.

“No. He has a television interview. I guess you’re stuck with his stunt double.”

Brandon sighed. Was he going to make it through the entire movie without meeting the male star?

Then he looked up and all thoughts about the film and Houston Savage vanished. Standing just beyond all the lights and movie paraphernalia was a woman, one who strode with the grace of a colt, that beautiful mane of hers flowing along with the breeze.

“Where are you going?” the trainer called out to him.

He didn’t reply. Didn’t have time. The only thing he knew for certain was that he had to get to Emily.

He’d never catch up with her on foot, not with his gimp leg. There was only one way for him to reach her. He slapped the reins. “Giddy-up,” he shouted.

The air whistled past Brandon’s ears. The trees whipped by his peripheral vision. It dawned on him that he was riding much faster than he’d ever dared to before. And it felt great.

 Yippie-yi-yo-ki-yay!” He was actually galloping. Like a real cowboy.

When he reached her side, Brandon dismounted and stood in front of her. “Emily, did you get my messages?”

“Yes, thank you. All fourteen of them.”

Brandon cringed. So much for the cool, cowboy persona. You wouldn’t catch Houston Savage calling a woman fourteen times in one day.

But none of that mattered, now. She was here. She’d come to see him. This was his chance, his one and only chance to set everything right. And he wasn’t going to blow it. Not this time.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Emily, ‘cause there’s something I have to tell you. I know you’re probably going to hate me, but please believe, I didn’t mean for it to go on this long. I didn’t mean for it to happen at all,” he corrected himself. “When I saw you that first day at the restaurant, I knew I had to speak to you. You were looking at me like I was someone special...and I wanted to be that person, so...I started play acting and...” Brandon glanced over to find a couple of production assistants and several more patrons following his story with rapt attention.

“Go on. I’m listening,” Emily told him, stroking his arm.

“I’m not a cowboy,” he blurted out. “I’d never been on a horse until two weeks ago—unless you count Chuck Mallory’s seventh birthday party.” He ignored the confused look on her face and kept talking. “I got a part in this Houston Savage movie and I found out that I had to ride. That’s why I was at the stables. I was taking lessons,” he explained. “I wasn’t there to apply for a job. Sam said that to cover for me. My real name is Brandon Hollister. I’m an actor. Well, actually, I’m a waiter most of the time. And I know I really blew it with you, and I’m really sorry I kept lying. I guess I just wanted to be…the man of your dreams.”

Brandon braced himself for the slap. He’d never been hit by a woman before. The fact that Emily was going to be the one to alter that record hurt him. More than the blow ever would. But he deserved it. If that’s what she needed to do, he was ready. He locked his jaw and clenched his teeth in preparation.

Emily reached up and touched his face, all right. But in a soft caress. “Well, it’s about time, cowboy.”

She must not have heard him correctly. He was going to have to confess all over again. “I’m not a cowboy.”

“Oh, I figured that out.”

His jaw dropped. “Really?”

“I hate to tell you this, but you weren’t very convincing.”

Brandon frowned. “What did I do that wasn’t cowboyish?”

“There were a lot of little hints.”

“Like what?”

“The accent that would come and go … your riding technique … that sort of thing.”

Great. If he hadn’t convinced Emily, how was he going to convince a theater full of moviegoers?

“But mostly, it was your kiss.”

That remarked brought him to attention. “Huh?”

“No cowboy can kiss the way you do.”

The tone of her voice was low and dreamy. Brandon smiled to himself. Who cared if he hadn’t pulled off the accent with her? She liked the way he kissed.

“Why didn’t you call me on it, Emily? If you knew I was lying the whole time, why didn’t you say something?”

“I...I wanted you to confess on your own. That’s the only way I could be sure that you were truly interested.”

“I see.” He really didn’t. Women’s logic was sometimes elusive. But it was one of those instances when it was better to agree. “Why don’t we seal it with a kiss?”