A Texan's Honor (10 page)

The trouble was, he wasn't sure of the nature of his thoughts.

She was a very lovely woman. No man could look at her without being attracted to her, without memorizing her smile. He could understand attraction. After all, he wasn't dead. What he didn't understand was the feeling that he liked her, too. That kind of appeal could be dangerous to his future. He'd been sent to Texas with only one job—to take her back to Boston. Uncle Silas had made it clear that his future at Abbott & Abercrombie depended on his being successful.

He'd come to the conclusion that Silas had no intention of implementing his plan or giving him a more important position in the company. If Bret somehow managed to gain the voting rights to Sam Abercrombie's stock, the situation would be different. Other members of the family were unhappy with the shrinking dividends. Even his uncle's own mother thought he was running the company into the
ground. Bret had a plan for gaining the voting rights to Sam's stock, but that brought him up against another problem.

He couldn't in good conscience convince Emily to go back to Boston when he knew Silas would put pressure on her to marry Joseph. The bastard had been writing her for the last couple of years, making her believe he was her only friend in the family. There was no love lost between the cousins, and Bret was certain that Joseph had told her not to trust him. Joseph had an exaggerated opinion of his ability, but he was smart enough to know that Bret and Rupert were threats to his future leadership of the company. Bret had no doubt that Joseph thought Emily was beneath him, but he would marry her if it was to his advantage. He was certain that Joseph would treat Emily very much as his father had treated Bret. And that was something Bret couldn't allow.

Which was something of a dilemma. And at the moment, he had no idea how to solve it.

It would have been a lot easier if he'd been able to think like Silas. Then he wouldn't care about people or the way his actions affected them. Living with Jake and Isabelle had taught him that people could be trusted, that good people didn't do bad things purely to gain an advantage for themselves. They said a man had to be able to look himself in the mirror and not be ashamed.

And at the center of this mess—though she clearly wanted to be anywhere else—was Emily. It couldn't be comfortable to be pressured from both sides to do something she didn't want to do.

He'd been annoyed to find he was attracted to her, but now he was worried because he was starting to feel sorry for her, to like her. That was not a good
idea, because he needed to keep a clear head, unclouded by emotion, if he was to find a way through this tangle. But how was he going to do that when even now he couldn't put her image out of his mind?

Emily was relieved to be reaching the ranch. She'd spent four of the last six days in the saddle, and she was tired and stiff. She wanted to be in her own home and sleep in her own bed.

“I expect Daddy has been sitting on the front porch since mid-afternoon,” she said to Bret. “He's sure that something terrible is going to happen to me.”

“He didn't want you going to Fort Worth,” Lonnie said, “but he knows Jem and me wouldn't let nothing happen to you.”

She and Bret hadn't had much to say to each other today. She could tell he was getting a little saddle-sore, but so was she. Only Lonnie and Jem seemed unaffected by the long trip. Lonnie had made a point of riding closer to her today. After what Ida had told her, Emily watched him closely. She was just as careful to study her own actions toward him, and was disturbed to see intimations of warmth that she hadn't been aware of. And he was much more attracted to her than she'd ever guessed. The looks Bret cast her
from time to time signaled that he knew it, too. She wasn't so shallow that she needed the attention of every man she met, but he couldn't know that.

It annoyed her that she cared what he might think. She knew he wasn't fond of Joseph, the only person in Boston she liked or trusted. Joseph had already written her that Bret was jealous of Joseph's success, that he might even try to convince her to marry
him
in order to get his hands on her father's quarter interest in Abbott & Abercrombie. She had no intention of marrying anybody any time soon, most especially not Bret Nolan.

“I'm sure you'll be glad to get out of the saddle,” she said to Bret, who was riding on her right.

“I expect his bottom's so sore he'll have trouble sitting down to dinner,” Lonnie said on her left.

“It is a bit raw,” Bret said with one of his smiles that told her he was about to say something to tease her. “But I'll manage to sit down to the table if the food is as good as Ida Wren's.”

“Don't worry,” Emily said. “I don't do the cooking.”

“That's good to know,” Bret said, his smile even broader. “It's been a long time since I had to take a hand in fixing my own supper.”

Emily noticed he'd started saying
supper
instead of
dinner
. She wasn't sure what that meant, but she hoped it didn't mean he considered the evening meal in Texas unworthy of the term.

“I don't think that would be a good idea. Bertie doesn't like men in her kitchen.”

“A man's got no business in a kitchen except to eat,” Lonnie announced.

“It's obvious you didn't grow up in a household of eleven kids,” Bret said. “Isabelle did most of the cooking, but we had to set the table and clean up. About the time Eden was born, Jake made us take
over all the cooking. Fortunately, Matt knew how to cook, or it would have been pretty bad.”

The idea of a group of rough-and-tumble boys learning to set the table and clean up, even cook on occasion, intrigued Emily. Ida's boys would rebel if she so much as mentioned it, and their father would back them up. She couldn't imagine how Isabelle had managed it.

As she drew closer to the ranch house, Emily's father got up from his chair on the porch and started down the steps. She could see his smile of welcome, could sense his relief that she was home safe. She looked at her father closely. Illness had ravaged his body, reducing a big man to a bone-thin frame. He walked slowly and with an effort, but his strength of spirit wouldn't yield to his physical weakness. He greeted his daughter with a smile despite having to lean on the step railing and then a cane for support.

“I'll see you at the house,” she said to Bret and Lonnie and kicked her horse into a slow gallop.

“She adores her father,” she heard Lonnie say before she got out of hearing range.

She supposed she did adore him. Due to her mother's long illness and early death, her father had been her only parent. No matter how busy he'd been, he always had time for her. She brought her horse to a stop and dismounted. Holding her arms out, she walked into his embrace.

“How's my hardheaded, willful daughter?” he asked.

“Hard head and strong will still intact,” she said, giving him a big hug.

“I was hoping Mr. Nolan might soften you up a little.”

“You'd be disappointed in me if I became infatuated with a handsome face.”

“I'd like to see you infatuated with almost any man's face. It's not normal for a young woman to ignore every man she meets.”

Emily grinned. “I confess I haven't exactly ignored this one. He is awfully nice-looking.”

Her father's eyebrows rose.

“Don't get your hopes up,” she said, laughing. “He's very handsome, but he's just as hardheaded and strong-willed as I am. I'm betting we'll be at each other's throats in a couple of days.”

“You promised to listen to him,” her father said, some of his enthusiasm waning.

“I only promised to listen. Now smile and act like you're glad to see him. After all, you're the reason he's here.”

“I see we're going to have to put our heads together and plot against you,” her father said.

When Bret and Lonnie reached the house and dismounted, Emily took her father's arm and turned to meet them. “This is my father, Sam Abercrombie,” she said to Bret. “Father, this is Bret Nolan, the man who's supposed to make me believe my future lies in Boston.”

“How do you do,” Bret said, extending his hand to Emily's father. “I've been looking forward to meeting you. You're quite a legend back in Boston, you know.”

“I expect mine is a story they tell little children to scare them into being good,” Sam said with a smile as he shook Bret's hand.

“More like to convince younger sons to go out and make something of themselves.”

“You're not going to make me believe my brother thinks I'm a success,” Sam said.

“Maybe not, but I do,” Bret said. “You did what you wanted, and you still inherited your share of the company.”

Her father laughed so hard, Emily was worried he'd do himself harm. “I hadn't thought about it like that,” Sam said. “By damn, that's enough to keep me in good spirits for at least a month.”

“Why don't we go inside,” Emily said. “Dad shouldn't be out in the sun too long.”

“I'll be in after I see to the horses.” Bret turned back to the horses.

“Lonnie can take care of them,” Sam said.

“I can't ask him to take care of my horse and bring in my luggage.”

“I like him already,” Sam said as Bret led his horse to the barn. “I never had a guest take care of his own horse, not even when it
was
his own horse.”

“I never expected a city slicker to care about horses, much less know what to do,” Emily said as she helped her father up the steps.

“I wonder why Silas sent him. I'd have thought he'd have sent Joseph.”

“There you go thinking Joseph wants to marry me. What would he do with a wife like me?”

“Be damned lucky he got you.” Sam had difficulty breathing after climbing the steps. “You may not be as rich as some of the Boston girls, but you're a damned fine-looking woman. Besides, you've got backbone and character.”

Emily laughed as she held the door open for her father. “When did men start appreciating backbone and character in a woman?”

“When I married your mother,” her father said, wheezing. Emily took his arm and guided him to his favorite chair in the great room.

“Don't move until it's time for dinner,” she ordered. “I'll be back as soon as I make sure Bret is settled in his room.”

“So it's Bret already, is it?”

“What else did you expect? I can hardly argue with him if I'm still calling him
Mister Nolan
.”

“You're not going to change, are you?”

“Probably not, but you'll love me anyway.” She kissed him on his forehead. “Now I'm home and safe. You're not to worry anymore.”

“I can't help worrying about what will happen to you when I'm gone.”

“The only reason I'd even consider going to Boston would be so you'd stop worrying. Now rest up. I think you'll enjoy getting to know Bret.”

As Emily climbed the stairs to her room, she realized
she
expected to enjoy it, too. Setting aside the fact that he was handsome enough to warm her blood and cause her cheeks to flush, he was an interesting man, full of contradictions and secrets. He was going to set his will against hers—the kind of intellectual contest she enjoyed. She also had the feeling he would surprise her. She wasn't sure how, but something told her it would be a pleasant surprise. None of this made sense, of course, but that was how she felt.

It had been a long trip and she was exhausted, her muscles still felt tight from so many hours in the saddle, but she didn't have time for a bath before dinner. She barely had time to change her clothes and make sure Bret was settled in his room. She supposed she could have left that to Lonnie or Jem, but he was a guest and she was the hostess. Besides, anybody who took such good care of his horses was all right in her book. The fact that he was the best-looking man she'd ever seen didn't hurt, either.

She wondered why Joseph had warned her against him. Bret certainly hadn't done anything to make her think he was interested in attracting her attention, much less winning her affection. It was mortifying to be attracted to a man who seemed uninterested in
her. Where was the sport, the challenge, the slight element of fear that things just might get out of control?

He was the first man she'd ever been attracted to. It was probably a good thing she could get this first infatuation—if she could call it that—out of her system on a man who had no interest in her. She would have the experience without the possibility of making the mistake of falling in love.

She was amused and a little out of patience with the foolish thoughts going through her mind. She needed to eat dinner, make sure her father was okay, get a good night's sleep, and get her mind back on her work. Maybe then she could forget about Bret Nolan.

Bret thoroughly enjoyed dinner. The food was excellent, the company even better. Sam Abercrombie was a fascinating man who'd turned his back on family status and fortune, scorned his relatives' opinion, and used their criticism to spur his ambition to prove them wrong. Part of the charm, part of the miracle, was that he didn't think he'd done anything unusual. He'd simply wanted something different and hadn't let anything stand in his way.

Several leaves had been taken out of the dining room table, but it was still too large for three people. The room itself, not to mention the crystal and table settings, were unusual for a ranch some distance from Fort Worth. Joseph and Uncle Silas would never believe this table was as impressive as the one they sat down to each night.

“My daughter's got my rebellious spirit,” Sam said. “She's not paying any more attention to me than I paid to my parents.”

“I'm not going to sit here and listen to you tell Bret what an undutiful daughter I am,” Emily said as she
rose from the table. “I'm going to go get my exhausted body ready for bed.”