Page 18 of The Runaway and the Rugged (Dusty Meadows #1)
GARTH
B oy, I’d done it now. Signed my own death warrant that is, as both Greta and Emelia stared at me like I’d grown a second head. When was the last time I had helped someone who was down on their luck? Never. The simple answer was fuckin’ never.
And a beautiful woman, at that.
Did she really think I was going to let her leave without a place to go? Absolutely not. I may not be the nicest guy out there, but I sure as hell had enough morals to ensure she leaves knowing she’ll be okay. Besides, the idea of her ex-fiancé somehow finding her made me see red.
At least for tonight I'd know she’d be safe.
“Yeah, what Garth said.” Greta regarded me with curiosity but I swiftly shrugged it off. “You’re more than welcome to stay here.”
Emelia’s pretty eyes bounced between the two of us as a flustered expression lifted on her face.
“Oh no.” She spluttered through a forced laugh. “Thank you for offering, but I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
Intrude?
That’s the last thing I’d call it.
“Not lettin’ you leave here without having a place to stay, Outlaw. Just accept the invitation so we don’t have to worry about whether you’re going to be safe or not.”
I should have automatically assumed she was going to be stubborn about this. I think it was in her nature just as much as it was in mine, the only difference was she never seemed to let it overshadow her sweetness.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, I was kicked firmly in the shin by Greta’s boot, damn near sending me to my knees.
“What Garth is trying to say is, we’d feel more comfortable if you just stayed here tonight.
You’ve had a hell of a day and the best thing is to just lay low and for you to get your ducks in order.
” Greta had always been better with words, even if I didn’t think anything was wrong with what I had said, to the point it warranted a fuckin’ kick to the leg.
“And hopefully by tomorrow, or whenever you’re ready to leave, you’ll be more prepared. ”
Emelia appeared torn. Chewing mercifully on her lower lip, she kept silent until releasing a prolonged exhale.
“Okay, one night,” she finally accepted, sending a surge of unexplainable relief through me. Even my shoulders dropped from the weight of her words.
“Good.” Greta beamed wide and happy as if her whole “let’s host a wedding here” idea hadn’t just crumbled right in front of her eyes. And that’s why, despite her being one big pain in the ass, I admired the hell out of her. Even in the worst of situations, she always managed to come out on top.
Hands down the strongest Calhoun.
“Well, now that’s all settled, I best get back to business.” Greta pushed herself off her seat until she was standing beside me. “Think I’m kind of lookin’ forward to kickin’ Mr. Fancy-Pants off the ranch and seein’ that smug face of his collapse.”
Did I say strongest Calhoun? I meant oblivious.
Greta always had a bit of a twisted sense of humor that most weren’t equipped to handle, in addition to choosing the worst moments to speak. Luckily Emelia didn’t take offense or, at least, she pretended she wasn’t offended as the corner of her mouth lifted.
“Just be careful,” I grumbled, still contemplating whether I should go with her or not. “If he or anyone else gives you any grief, call me and I’ll handle it.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” She waved me off with the flick of her hair. “I know the drill.”
Just as she was about to walk away, Emelia began to speak.
“Greta.” She called out her name, bringing her to a stop. “Thank you, again, for being so understanding. I should be the one you’re kicking off the ranch, so, just… Thank you. I’ll be forever grateful for how you handled everything.”
“No need to thank me, just happy to know there’s one less asshole out there that would have been married to someone they don’t deserve.”
With that, she disappeared into the house, leaving Emelia and I alone.
A heavy silence lingered in the air around us, a battle as to who would end the quiet first. She hadn’t bothered to glance at me yet. Not even a peek or an inkling that she even would.
Was she lost in thought again? Or maybe she was pissed at me for demanding that she stay here for the night. Whatever was going on in that head of hers, I may as well have been invisible to her.
That was until I cleared my throat, pulling her attention back to me.
“You ready?” I chose to ask something different rather than repeating the same question as to whether she was okay or not.
Her glazed-over eyes aligned with mine and with a long exhale, she nodded.
“To get out of this dress, yes.”
Fuck.
That was definitely not an image I needed in my head right now, but that didn’t stop me from imagining it. All that pretty hair against endless porcelain skin… put a fuckin’ fork in me, I’m done.
I then quickly shook off those thoughts before using the remainder of my strength of the day and gently lifted a spooked Emelia off the couch.
“Tired of carrying me yet?” she questioned as her voice slightly trembled with breathless wonder.
No, I wanted to respond. Not in the slightest, but instead I grunted as I walked us back toward Ella and placed her onto the saddle once more.
“Dammit!” Emelia cursed, as her head fell back with a groan. I swiftly swung myself up behind Emelia, my brows bunching together in question, all the while my gaze wandered along the tender skin of her exposed throat.
Fuck, quit looking at her so much.
Once I was settled in, I finally found my words.
“Everything all right?”
One arm went over her lap as the other reached behind her back and grabbed a hold of the reins.
Once again, we were entirely too close. Her shoulder was leaned comfortably against my chest while her head began to bob side to side with each trot from Ella.
Her head nearly collapsed into the crook of my neck as she seemed to struggle to keep her eyes open.
“No, my suitcase with all my clothes is with Nathaniel.” She groaned.
Meaning she most likely wouldn’t be getting it back. Once he was delivered the bad news that the wedding was off, there was no chance he’d let her have it now, not without having an opportunity to talk to her.
He was undoubtedly the type of man who’d use revenge as a way to cope with a bruised ego.
“Well, if we aren’t able to get it back, I’ll bring over some clothes that you can at least wear for the night.”
Either from Greta’s closet, or mine. Preferably hers, but that didn’t stop me from imagining Emelia dressed down in one of my T-shirts. A sight I had no business envisioning, but couldn’t stop even if I tried.
It took her a minute to respond. I almost thought she had fallen asleep, but when she spun her head to the side to peer up at me, I realized she was wide awake.
“Why are you being so nice to me? I mean, you do tend to grunt a lot, which makes things a bit confusing at times, but I get the feeling you don’t have much control over that, do you?”
Grunt? I don’t fucking grunt, I just breathe heavily sometimes. And I’ve told Grace a million and one times the same damn thing. If anyone was a grunter, it was Griff.
“Have no reason to not be, Outlaw,” I responded truthfully. “Besides, I’m making amends for bein’ a class A jerk' when I found you.”
The prettiest laugh that reached her eyes engulfed the space around us. Everything about it was painfully real, painfully perfect, and so painfully out of reach I had no other choice but to look away.
“A class A jerk, huh?” she teased, surprisingly calm for the position she was in. “You didn’t hurt my feelings, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
That was the last thing I wanted. If I could turn back time and change how I responded, I would. But it was a split-second reaction kind of thing, seein’ a pretty woman alone, worn out and defeated on the trail. It was a sight that made me see red.
Still does now.
“Not even a little,” she added, suddenly making me wish that I had.
Maybe then she wouldn’t look at me like I was some sort of savior and I wouldn’t feel so hell-bent on being her protector.
But as I carefully tried to determine whether it was a lie or not, it all fell recklessly onto the back burner as soon as I risked a glance downward.
Soft jade eyes collided with mine, and for a heavy moment, she was all I could see.
A type of face that would leave a lasting mark on Hideaway Haven. One that would make the bluebonnets and Indian blankets bloom from the mere sight of that radiant fuckin’ smile, and those mesmerizing eyes that could possess the power to tame even the most unruly of horses.
What she was, was an accelerant to my heart that hadn’t pounded so vigorously in years. Fuckin’ dangerous, and if I didn’t nip it in the bud quick, I’d end up doing somethin’ careless that even my inner thoughts couldn’t risk voicing.
With Ella left to navigate on her own, I quickly mustered up enough willpower to pull my stare off Emelia, and peered ahead.
“Maybe I’m just better at hiding it than I thought,” I muttered beneath my breath, prompting a silence for the remainder of the ride.
Lord, whatever you have planned for me, don’t let this woman become my undoing.