Cathy Thacker - The Texas Rancher's Vow

Jaw set angrily, Matt stepped to block her exit. “No need for that. Dad and I are done.”

“We certainly are,” Emmett agreed, just as tersely.

Matt stomped off.

The older man sighed and returned to the boxes. He opened one and pulled out a big stack of photographs. For the next thirty minutes, they looked through them. Finally, eager to get the conversation back on track, Jen said gently, “Let’s talk more about what you’d like to see in the bronzes.”

Beginning to relax, he sat down next to her.

“I want to go out—at least in the public perception—very much the way I’ve lived. With my boots on. If and when I ever do get sick, I am not going to put Matt through that. It’s enough what he went through with his mother.”

Matt reappeared in the doorway—clearly unable to stay away no matter how much he wished he could, Jen noted curiously.

Looking much calmer after a brief respite, Matt ambled in. He looked at his dad. “With the exception of your slightly elevated cholesterol and blood pressure—both of which are well controlled through the medicines you take—there isn’t a thing wrong with you, Dad.”

Emmett looked at him for a long moment, an undecipherable emotion on his craggy face. “The point is,” he said at last, “you never know.” He pressed a hand on the table and pushed himself to his feet, looking suddenly too weary to go on.

“I’m going to bed,” he announced with an apologetic glance at Jen. “We’ll talk again in the morning?”

Seeing firsthand how the constant bickering with his only son was taking a toll on Emmett, she nodded. Why couldn’t Matt just let his dad be?

“Yes, sir. Thank you again for the opportunity.”

Emmett looked at Matt, his brows lowered. “Don’t you chase her away with your bad behavior.”

Jen jumped to reassure him. “He won’t, I promise. You have nothing to worry about on that score.”

“Good to know.” Emmett exited, leaving them alone.

Jen slid Matt a reproachful look. “You really don’t have to stay. The silver is safe.”

He slid his hands into his pockets, looking totally at ease. “Ha, ha.”

Feeling way too aware of him, Jen began sorting through the photos. “All I want to do is work.” And forget about that kiss we shared earlier…

Matt sat on the library table, hands braced on either side of him. “I know you think I’m being ridiculously on guard.”

Jen hated feeling so vulnerable whenever she was near Matt. And she resented knowing how intensely attracted she was to him.

Hadn’t she done the rich-man’s-son thing once?

Hadn’t she seen how badly that had turned out?

She swallowed and continued laying out the photos in a haphazard collage. “I understand. For whatever reason, your father is suddenly feeling the need to document the most important parts of his life in a unique way only someone with his wealth could afford.” She paused to move some of the pictures around. “That sentiment leaves him vulnerable. You don’t want to see him taken advantage of, monetarily or in any other way.”

Matt’s eyes fell on a photo of himself at two years of age, standing with his mother and father in front of the Alamo. They all looked so happy. Content. Without a care in the world.

Exhaling, he stood. Worry lines appeared at the corners of his eyes. “The disastrous second, third and fourth marriages aside…life hasn’t always been easy for him.”

Jen watched Matt pace the room. “Or you?”

He chose his words carefully. “I know my dad thinks this process will bring him comfort.” Matt raked his fingers through his hair. “I worry all it will do is dredge up the unhappiness that sent him into a tailspin to begin with.” He shook his head, still vibrating with pent-up emotion. “Which, in turn, could lead him to feel so lonely he’ll marry badly again.”

“And maybe,” Jen said softly, as another shimmer of tension wafted between them, “you will, too?”

* * *

MATT SHOULD HAVE KNOWN that Jen wouldn’t let information that volatile go unexplored.

Before he could decide how he was going to handle this, she lifted a hand. “Don’t worry, cowboy. You don’t have to tell me about your failed elopement.” She surveyed him with something like reproach.

“I’m sure I could look it up. Or get someone else to tell me.” Still laying out photos, she waggled her eyebrows at him playfully. “Maybe even have you investigated.”

Ouch.

Although, Matt conceded, he may have had that coming.

He exhaled. “You want the story?”

Jen pushed back her chair. “Actually…I do.”

He watched her sashay toward him, all feminine sass and confidence. He tore his eyes from her spectacular legs. “Why?”

“Because it doesn’t fit with anything I know about you so far.” She bit her lower lip, then said, “You seem like the last person to impulsively tie the knot.”

He leaned against one of the custom floor-to-ceiling bookcases. “Which maybe was the point,” he drawled.

Jen walked around the table and rested her hands on top of a straight-backed chair.

Aware that he could use some comfort—a fact that made him feel entirely too vulnerable—Matt confessed, “It was six months after my mom died. My dad was already planning to marry the novelist. It was too soon, and everyone knew that, but Dad wouldn’t listen to reason. So I decided to take a page from my future stepmother’s book—and bring a little more carefully scripted drama into our lives.”

Jen’s brow lifted. “By eloping in Vegas with a female friend you barely knew?”

Matt nodded. “I thought if I embarked in a hasty, ill-thought-out marriage before Dad went through with his own wedding, he would see how ludicrous it was.”

Jen’s expression gentled. “He’d learn from your mistake.”

Matt swallowed. “Yes. And I thought that Elanore—the girl I ran off with—understood that.”

Jen walked around the table toward him. “She didn’t?”

He grimaced. Thinking some fresh air might help, he strode toward the French doors that led to the courtyard, and stepped onto the beautifully landscaped stone patio that his mother had once loved.

Darkness had fallen. There was a quarter moon and a sprinkling of stars overhead. “Apparently, she’d had a secret crush on me for a long time.” Matt passed one of the gas lanterns that illuminated the courtyard.

Jen was right behind him. “When did you find out?”

He sank down on one of the cushioned chaises. “When I passed on the opportunity to get drunk on champagne and really ‘show everyone’ by actually consummating our foolhardy marriage.”

Looking stricken, Jen sat down sideways on the chaise next to him. “What happened next?”

Matt folded his hands behind his head, savoring the warm night air. “We got on a plane back to Texas and broke the news to our folks.”

And, oh, what a mess that had been.

Jen clasped her hands around her knee. “What was their reaction?”

“Dad saw it for what it was and refused to be manipulated.”

Intrigued, Jen prodded, “And her parents?”

Matt frowned. “Elanore’s parents knew how she had secretly felt about me all along, and were incensed. They accused me of leading her on, and insisted we not annul the marriage—that we needed to stop and think about what we were going to do next.”

Jen’s eyes widened. “You explained to them what had happened? How it had all come about?”

The unhappy memory still rankled. “They didn’t care. They had a brokenhearted daughter who wanted to stay married to me and give our union a real shot.”

“Even though you didn’t love her and viewed her only as a friend.”

Matt scoffed at the naivete of it all. “They felt that love could grow, given half a chance. What they didn’t want was for their daughter to be any more humiliated. To have her known as a willing accomplice to fraud was not a good thing, either.” He shrugged. “Her parents preferred for everyone to think we’d eloped in the heat of young love. Then if, over time, the marriage didn’t work out—and they desperately hoped it would—they could save face and say that we’d given it our best shot, but that the marriage had been too hasty, after all.”