Page 15 of The Runaway and the Rugged (Dusty Meadows #1)
“Oh… My… God.” Greta marched through the tall grass and wildflowers with purpose, each step more charged than the last, all the while her eyes were laser-focused on me.
Why the hell is her wrath directed at me?
Her breathing was erratic as if she’d been running around the ranch like a maniac. Cheeks the shade of tomatoes and both hands placed onto the curves of her hips, she appeared seconds from detonating.
“Where in the Sam Hill have you two been?” she questioned, her tone bordering the line of relief.
“Greta, you need to relax for a second, all right?” I should’ve known better than to tell my sister to relax because it usually had the opposite effect, but right now, I was dealin’ with two distressed women and saying something was better than saying nothing at all.
“Relax?” she snapped with the cock of her hip.
Oh fuck, here we go.
“Are you seriously telling me to relax right now after I’ve been runnin’ around like a headless chicken looking for Emelia?” She had a thousand-yard stare as if she had just gone through something traumatizing. Even her usual smooth, wavy hair was a mess of tangles and knots.
“Greta, I am so sorry.” Emelia’s soft, regretful tone had me glaring down at Greta. Couldn’t she sense that something was wrong? “Please, don’t be upset with Garth. I’m the idiot who got lost on one of your trails and was lucky enough to be rescued by him.”
She was taking the blame, and although I had to agree that none of this would have happened if she hadn’t wandered off, it didn’t mean that I liked it.
In fact, I hated that she felt bad for following her gut feeling.
There was nothin’ to be sorry for. Yeah, she could have taken a different approach, but who was I to judge?
She was safe, that’s all that really mattered.
Emelia shifted herself on the saddle, signaling she wanted down. Reluctantly, I loosened my hold on the reins, but before helping her onto her feet, I lowered my mouth to her ear. “Don’t like hearin’ you call yourself an idiot.”
Emelia’s wide eyes flashed to mine for a split second before returning to Greta.
With my hand steadying her waist, I communicated with the nod of my head toward Greta to help her down.
She directed a scowl at me, but it quickly faded when she stepped toward Emelia.
“You’re okay?” Greta asked, the anger in her voice now shifting into genuine concern. “You’re not hurt or anything, right?” She gently directed Emelia off the saddle and the second she landed onto her feet, she let out a painful whimper.
“I’m fine, my feet are just a little sore.” She attempted to brush it off, but the way she winced as she adjusted her footing made me think otherwise. Greta’s brows clashed together as her stare darted downward, then quickly shot to my hand that was still holding her heels.
Without another thought, I was dismounting from Ella.
“Oh, Emelia,” Greta chastised, using the same tone of voice she used with Grace. “Your feet got to be on fire.”
“They’re really not that… OH!” Emelia squealed as I settled in behind her and carefully plucked her off her feet. With one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back, she was nestled once again into my chest.
Too stunned to speak, her startled expression was the only reaction I received. Well, that was until Greta opened her mouth. “Garth!” She sputtered with a look of horror spread across her face. “You can’t just manhandle her like that, Jesus!”
She was right, I shouldn’t have, but I was more than uninterested in having a pointless argument about whether she should be on her feet or not. Instead, I took it upon myself and made the decision for her.
“Imagine what her fiancé would think if he walked around the house right now and saw you holdin’ her like that.” Greta crossed her arms over her chest, clearly unamused and worried at the same time.
I glanced down at Emelia, silently questioning whether she wanted me to be the one to spill the beans to Greta or not. It wasn’t my place, nor responsibility, but I figured admitting it once to a complete stranger was more than enough humiliation for one day.
And if I needed to take some of the heat, then so be it.
“You’re really making me feel like a damsel now, you know that?” Emelia grumbled just loud enough for Greta to hear the tail end of it. A tinge of pink broke out along both cheeks, and to my surprise, she remained compliant in my arms.
At this point, there was no other choice but to accept the way she made my heart kick. Stranger or not, runaway bride or not, she was an unexpected punch to the gut I wasn’t prepared for.
“And you’re really bringin’ out the savior complex in me, so I’d say we're pretty even,” I grunted in return, feeling Greta’s heavy presence watching me over like a damn hawk.
I could already hear the onslaught of questions that’ll be soon comin’ my way. So instead, I ignored her inquisitive gaze altogether and sidestepped around her with the intention of setting Emelia on one of the patio chairs.
“Uh, is anyone going to explain to me why we're not haulin’ ass over to the wedding ceremony right now?” Greta shouted in disbelief, her voice trembling with astonishment.
I didn’t have to look at Emelia to know she was distraught.
“How ’bout you take a deep breath before you give yourself an aneurysm.” I shot the demand over my shoulder as I climbed up the steps to the patio. “Go tie up Ella to her post, then come sit down and we’ll tell you what’s goin’ on.”
She was quick to respond, “We’ll? What do you mean by we’ll?”
Shaking my head, I knew better than to play into whatever ridiculous thoughts were dancing around in her head. She was stressed, confused, at her wits’ end with this whole day, so I acted as though I didn’t even hear her.
Minutes passed. I expected a lot more than just disgruntled mumbles from Greta. At least a “fuck you, Garth,” or a “Do it yourself,” would have been a more typical response than the one she was giving me now. Most likely because she didn’t want Emelia to see how easily she flies off the handle.
Once on the back deck, I carried Emelia over to the outdoor couch where she could rest her feet.
“I thought you said she’d be understanding?
” Emelia groaned as I gently lowered her onto the cushions.
I’d taken the silence from Greta as an indication she was tying up Ella where she couldn’t hear our conversation.
“I said she’d be more understanding than you think.” I adjusted the pillow behind her back until I knew she was comfortable. “Which I meant after you tell her everything.”
Feet extended, arms slumped at her sides in defeat, her head tipped back on a low groan.
Still hovering just beside where she laid, I realized I never paid close attention to women.
Maybe back in the day before life took on a more serious tone I dabbled in appreciating a woman up close, but something about it felt different now. Not so playful anymore, but intense.
Fucking dangerous.
The delicate curve of her neck was exposed while her eyes were closed off to the world around her.
Like she was taking a moment of peace for herself.
Tearing my gaze away was deemed impossible.
Like a fallen, unreachable star that had landed onto our ranch, she was a one-in-a-million occurrence.
So out of her realm, yet I couldn’t shake the possibility that I could somehow reach her.
Fuckin’ foolish.
As if she could sense someone was watching her, she lazily opened her eyes. Coming into focus with a few gentle blinks and shifting her head forward, it was almost instantaneous when she met my gaze.
She didn’t seem surprised at all, maybe a little curious, but there were no signs of shock on her face. If anything, she looked calm.
Maybe she felt me staring all along?
That would be my luck.
What would also be my luck is that a rush of unexplainable heat began to break out along my face and neck, like an itchy, hot rash that had my throat tightening.
What the actual hell? Was I fuckin’ blushing?
“All right you two.” Greta’s voice severed right through whatever hypnotic state we were under. Her loud, emphasized stomps up the stairs were like a sudden, cool bucket of ice being poured over my head, jolting us both into awareness.
Forcing myself to cough, I quickly broke eye contact and took the chair across from Emelia. Finally, I felt a semblance of normalcy rush back to me. Like I was able to think logically again after losin’ myself in the aura she emanated.
Trouble was what she was. Trouble that a man like me didn’t need any more of.
And when Greta finally plopped herself down onto a chair directly next to me, with a solemn expression and tight-lipped scowl, I suddenly realized that no matter what trouble Emelia faced or brought onto this ranch, I refused to let her carry that burden alone.
It wasn’t in my nature or upbringing to turn a blind eye to a woman in need.
Despite all the reasons why I should disengage myself entirely and let Greta handle this mess she got herself in, I knew my conscience wouldn’t let me.
So when Greta readied herself with a fixed gaze on Emelia, I used the last second of silence to nod reassuringly at Emelia.
Despite looking green around the gills, she posed as someone confident. Back straight, unwavering stare now focused on Greta, she was making every effort to remain brave. And damn, if that didn’t impress me.
Then finally with a prolonged sigh, Greta spoke. “What’s going on, Emelia?”