Chapter Eleven
S tanding beneath a pair of umbrellas, Lord Quinn and her brother, Malcolm, stood sizing up Emily and Liam, who were covered with mud and soaking wet.
Liam stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of them. “Is that… who I think it is?”
She swallowed thickly. “If you think it’s my father and brother, you would be sadly correct.”
He glanced back at her. “What’s this about?”
“Me. What else?”
The pair was walking toward them. Her father stopped a few feet away. He was the picture of British aristocracy. Tall and thin, white hair, and a prominent nose he could handily look down. “Emily?” His address to her was at least as cold as this rain.
“Father? Montana is a bit out of your wheelhouse, isn’t it then?”
“It’s a bit off the beaten track.” His gaze slid down Liam’s and her muddy clothes. If looks were lethal, Liam would already be bleeding.
Still, he extended a hand to her father. “Mr. Quinn? I’m Liam Hardesty.”
Her father hesitated at the muddy look of Liam’s hand before taking it. “Ah. Mr. Hardesty. You must be the cowboy.”
“ Father —” Emily warned.
“And it’s Lord Quinn,” her brother corrected. “I’m Malcolm Quinn. Emily’s older brother.” He didn’t offer his hand.
Malcolm was everything Liam had imagined. Tall, unathletic-looking, and condescending, due to the very long stick up his ass.
“He knows who you are,” she told them. “What is it you want?”
Her father’s gaze took in the ranch in the pouring rain. “Oh, I think you know.”
“Maybe they just happened to be in the neighborhood,” Liam suggested.
A snort of laughter escaped Emily but the flash of lightning that streaked across the sky seemed a reflection of the anger in her eyes.
Malcolm gestured at their muddy clothes. “No, but it’s quite worse than even we imagined.”
Lord Quinn shot a silencing look at his son.
“Oh, you mean the mud?” Emily asked. “It’s a ranching thing. Would you like to see the newborn calf Liam just saved from the river? Oh, but Malcolm, maybe you would have preferred to think the calf out of that situation.”
“Funny, Em.” Malcolm looked longingly back at the shelter of the town car.
“This has gone far enough, don’t you think?” her father said.
“What has?”
“This little… fling. We both know you’re better than this, Emily.”
The hairs on the back of Liam’s neck stood up, but she stayed his anger with a squeeze on his arm.
“Better than what, Father? Montana? Muddy clothes? A man who cares about me? Who doesn’t treat me like an afterthought?”
Under his breath, Malcolm muttered, “A cowhand .”
“It wouldn’t matter to me if he was simply a cowhand. Which he certainly is not—” she began, but Liam leaned in.
“No, no, that’s… in the ballpark,” Liam countered. “But since we’re assuming here—we are, aren’t we?—I assume you know how amazing your daughter is, Lord Quinn. How talented she is. How kind. And that she’s a woman with a mind of her own. But maybe you don’t know, since it’s been a while since you noticed her. But I noticed.”
Her father’s expression didn’t warm. “Forgive me… Mr.… Hardesty. This is between myself and my daughter. If you wouldn’t mind?”
“I kind of do, but, again, that’s up to her.”
Emily squeezed her eyes shut, and he could imagine her silently counting. “You can stay, Liam. And Father, you should go.”
“All right, then. We’ll do this in front of him. I don’t know what you were thinking, following this fellow out here from New York, but according to Muriel, you’re apparently smitten with the idea of a… a cowboy.”
“Oh, she told you that, did she?”
“She did,” Malcolm said, seeming to enjoy this too much.
“I think that’s a lie. Muriel would never say that. Shall I call her and check?”
“For God’s sake, Emily—” her father said.
“And none of that is any of your business anyway,” she went on. “I can’t imagine what inspired this visit, unless—”
Malcolm eagerly jumped in. “You made quite a splash in the British tabloids. Photos and everything of you kissing up your muddy cowboy here.” He swept a hand through the rain, declaring, “Lord Collum Quinn’s daughter, caught up in a Wall Street scandal, hiding out in Montana. Hooks up with a rough and tumble American cowboy. What’s next?” Seriously, Emily. It’s embarrassing.”
Horrified, she met Liam’s confused look. The photographer. In the restaurant. He was a plant. And the man on the road who saw them kissing? Same bastard journalist. The British press was relentless and constantly digging up dirt on those in power. Somehow, he’d found her here. Never in her life had she been paid any attention by the press. And she had every right to be here. To travel where she wanted, to hook up with whomever she wanted. And the only man she wanted was Liam.
“So,” she said. “Suddenly my private life is important to you when somehow it never mattered to you before?”
“Our father has never been part of the Lords’ Chamber before,” Malcolm said. “And I’m on the brink of running for MP. Think, Emily. Think about someone besides yourself.”
“The right people will pay little attention to all that,” her father said, taking a step toward her, to which she took an equal step back. “Emily. Please. You’ve had your fun. Now it’s time to come home. There’s an excellent job waiting for you back in London. I went to a lot of trouble to procure it for you. I called in a lot of favors. And all this fuss is unnecessary.”
“No one asked you to do that.”
“I thought you’d be grateful. Considering that you’re apparently persona-non-grata in New York.”
“Did you honestly think I’d be grateful for you coming here to humiliate me? To collect me as if I were some five-year-old? To save me from myself?” To Malcolm, she said, “Blame me for keeping you out of politics?”
“That… is certainly not our—”
“Well, you’ve accomplished it, as usual. And by the way, for all these years, the press has had no reason to follow me for my own sake. But only because of you two, who have literally left me alone all this time. So, tell me why I should care?” Behind the gate, the mama cow bawled for her calf. “Now if you’ll excuse us, there’s a calf that needs warming.”
“You’ll lose the job,” he warned. “If you don’t come back with us now.”
She turned back to him, rain dripping off her soaking hair, thunder rumbling across the sky. “Oh, you mean the job I had no part in getting? The one no one has even spoken to me about directly? The one that’s a grand favor to you?”
“The job that’s everything you’ve always wanted, Emily? Yes. That job. It’s respectable. It’s on a partner track. A partner , Emily. With all the benefits that comes with. It’s a dream package. The money? It’s quite good. And Garrett Falkner has already said he will not hold what happened in New York against you. He hired you because of all you accomplished in New York, because of your reputation. I simply opened that door for you and asked him to consider you. Yes, as a favor to me, but in the end, you got the job. But he won’t hold it for long. He expects you on Monday. And they’re going to deport you anyway. You can’t stay.”
Liam watched what her father said register on her face. Steal some of the anger from her expression. He watched the possibility of that good life far away from him seep into her eyes.
Emily shot a hopeless look at Liam.
“Or you could marry me,” Liam said impulsively. “You could stay here. Marry me. They couldn’t deport you.”
Shocked, she grabbed his arm. “ Liam. ”
“No, I mean it. Stay. Stay here with me. You don’t need to go.”
“I—” Tears suddenly filled her eyes, but she shook her head.
“There it is,” Malcolm told his father. “Well done, Emily. You managed to wrangle a proposal from the man for a green card. I told you that was her whole point in coming here. One way or another, to stay in this country come hell or high water. But even I never—”
She gasped and slapped Malcolm hard across the cheek. “Sod off, Malcolm.”
He reeled backward, grabbing his cheek, then he bared his teeth at her with an ugly laugh. “ Ahhh. She doth protest too much.”
“Malcolm, for God’s sake. Shut the hell up!” Lord Quinn scolded. “Emily—”
Liam stepped between them, wanting nothing more than to take her bastard brother to the friggin’ ground for what he’d said, and he met her hopeless pleading gaze darkly. Almost instantly, he knew he’d made a mistake. Because she took his look as confirmation that he believed her brother somehow. Or at least doubted her.
She turned and ran blindly in the rain toward the cabin where they’d shared the past few nights making love.
“Emily!” Liam called after her, but she didn’t turn. “Emily, wait!”
She didn’t stop.
He stalked back to the uninvited pair who’d just upended everything and took Malcolm by the shirtfront, shoving him backwards along the muddy ground. Malcolm’s eyes widened and he scrambled to keep his balance—not such an ass with someone his own size—then Liam shoved Malcolm backward, away from him. He stumbled to catch himself from falling in the rain.
“You come here, to my ranch and talk to her that way? What kind of family are you anyway? Who the hell does that to someone they supposedly love?”
“Mr. Hardesty, I—” Lord Quinn began.
Liam cut him off and, between clenched teeth told him, “Not interested in an answer.”
“You can’t possibly know her well enough to—” Lord Quinn began.
“Oh, I think I do. I think I already know her a hell of a lot better than either of you two, because it would appear that neither of you has ever bothered to even ask her what she wants. What she aspires to. How she wants to live her life.”
“Not with a cowhand, clearly,” Malcolm muttered to his father.
“Yeah, about that. This ranch and everything as far as your eye can see belongs to me and my family. And it’s been ours for generations. Built on the backs and the sweat equity of every Hardesty for a hundred and fifty years; from the ones lying in that small cemetery up the hill to the family that still lives here and works it. And, so you know, it’s no shoestring operation. And now that we have that settled, I suggest you two get the hell out of here. Now. Because if you don’t, I’ll be forced to physically remove you from my property. And you won’t like that. Because it happens, I am a cowboy and I can wrestle eight-hundred-pound yearling steers to the ground just for the hell of it.”
“B-but—” Malcolm sputtered.
“Nope. You had your say. So, both of you, get in that fancy car of yours and get the hell out of here. Now. Oh, and one more thing? I do plan on marrying her. But don’t expect an invitation to the wedding. She’s gonna have all the family she needs right here in Montana. Right here on this American ranch that happens to hold more possibility, more love, more family than you two will ever know in your sad, lonely lifetimes.”
Sarah appeared then from the house holding an umbrella, walking toward them with a worried expression. Will was right behind her.
“What’s happening here? Is everything all right, darling?”
“Nothing to worry about, Mom,” Liam told her. “They were just leaving.”
Lord Quinn frowned at Malcolm, contemplating his very limited choices.
“Who are they?” Will asked.
“I’m Emily’s father,” Quinn said. “And this ass is her brother.”
“Father!” Malcolm complained, looking wounded.
Damn, the man was like a freaking eight-year-old. What a frightening prospect it was to see him running for office anywhere.
Quinn said, “That’s accurate, I’m afraid. And I’m apparently guilty, too. Your son has… invited us to leave.”
“Ordered,” Liam corrected.
“Oh, dear,” Sarah muttered under her breath, but she was not about to argue with Liam.
Will walked to his brother’s side in solidarity, looking equally imposing. “You heard him.”
Quinn grabbed his son’s arm and shoved him in the direction of the town car. “It’s quite possible I underestimated the situation here. Underestimated you, sir. And for that, I apologize. For both of us. Please tell Emily that we’ll be at the local airfield until eight tonight with the private jet if she changes her mind.”
Liam said nothing in reply, only watched them walk through the muddy track to their car and then watched the car pull away.
“Good God, what the hell was that all about?” Will asked.
A muscle in Liam’s jaw worked. “ That was Emily’s past.” He cursed low under his breath. “I need to go talk to her. There’s a newborn calf in the barn that needs warming and that cow that’s bawling over there is her mama and needs in as soon as you’ve got her settled.”
“Got it. But, hey, Liam. Are you… is everything okay?”
He didn’t answer. Because he honestly didn’t know.
*
Emily had thrown her clothes haphazardly into her suitcase, but she couldn’t really see straight from the tears streaming down her face. In the bathroom, she shoved her cosmetics into a small traveling bag, then caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror.
She looked a mess. But worse than that, she felt like the ground underneath her had slipped away. She felt gutted. All of it. From her brother’s awful words to the look on Liam’s face when he heard Malcolm’s accusation that she had somehow plotted, manipulated… wormed her way into Liam’s life for a… a green card and a marriage of convenience?
Good God, she would never—
His proposal was simply a knee-jerk reaction to her brother’s words. He was just doing what he had done since the moment he met her—protecting her. And God knew, she was grateful for that. Glad she’d slapped those words right out of Malcolm’s hateful mouth. But an arrangement like Liam was proposing would never be the right thing. Not for her or for him. Because she loved him.
She loved him. She knew that now. She had accidentally lowered those walls that had kept her from looking too hard at her life—a life filled with little besides work and survival—and she’d let him in. And now, her heart felt like it was breaking.
What had she done?
But now that vicious little seed had been planted. Now, he would always wonder. Did she come to blag her way into his life? Could it be true? Was she that devious? She’d seen in his expression that he doubted her.
So, there was only one thing to do now. Go . She couldn’t stay another minute. She would not go with her father. No, she would go back to New York, close out her apartment, and relocate herself to London. But nowhere near her family. And that job would also not be hers. She would find some other way, because being beholden to her father in any way now was impossible. She would never forgive him for coming here today. Or Malcolm. Especially Malcolm.
When had he come to hate her so to do what he’d done just now? When had their father’s approval overridden any brotherly feelings he’d once had for her? He’d become small and petty, jealous and possessive of their father. Well, he could have him. She was done.
A knock on the door of the cabin froze her in her thoughts. She had nothing to say to her father or Malcolm.
“Go away!” she shouted at the closed door.
“Em, it’s me. Let me in.”
Her heart dropped. It was Liam. Emily scrubbed at her cheeks with the backs of her sleeves. At least she owed him a goodbye. None of this was his fault.
Slowly, she unlocked the door and opened it.
He stood on the doorstep, his expression unreadable. “Can I come in?”
“If you want. But I’m leaving,” she told him, then turned back to finish packing.
He followed her inside. “Emily, stop. Can we… can we just talk?” He hovered near the end of her bed—the bed they’d lain in together, making love—looking for the first time since she’d met him, awkward and uncertain.
“There’s really nothing to say, is there?” She threw some more clothes from the dresser into her suitcase.
“You don’t actually believe I bought what he was selling, do you?”
She turned her face away from him so he wouldn’t see her tears. “Don’t you?”
“No. Not for a second. It was them my anger was directed at. Not you.”
She balled up a bunch of socks and threw them in. “But you wonder now, don’t you? You’ll always wonder if my motives were—”
“Were what?”
“To trick you into…” Tears erupted from her eyes again. “It doesn’t matter now.”
“That’s your brother talking. Not you. But you still haven’t answered my question.”
She sniffed, looking up in confusion. “What question?”
“The marry-me question. You kind of left me hanging out there.”
She shook her head. “I know why you said it. To protect me—”
“No, that’s not—”
“Because that’s just who you are. But I can’t… I can’t marry you, Liam.” She closed the lid of her suitcase and zipped it with a sound of finality. “Malcolm had it all wrong. That’s not who I am. I would never put that on you. To lie for me just so I could stay in this country.”
A muscle in his jaw worked.
He took her by the upper arms, forcing her to look up at him. “ Lie ? What part of I’ve fallen deeply and crazy in love with you would be the lie?”
She blinked up at him, afraid to believe what he was saying. “What?”
He brushed the strand of wet hair from her cheek. “Before I sent the two of ’em packing, I told your old man I was going to marry you whether he liked it or not. Which isn’t exactly the foot I wanted to start out on with my maybe future father-in-law. But I meant it. I’m in love with you, Em. I mean, flat out, I can’t picture my future without you in it. And I don’t want to. Yeah, maybe people will say we should take more time, do the usual dating thing. But we don’t have time. So, let’s skip to the good part. Me? I don’t give a damn what it looks from the outside. I don’t care what anyone else thinks about you and me; about how long we’ve known each other, or how much we still have to learn about each other. It’s crazy, but I feel like I’ve known you forever, and I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I just know I want to spend the rest of my life getting to know everything about you. I want to sleep beside you every night and wake up with you in the morning. I want to teach you about all the things I love about this place, and I want to make a family with you.
“Look, I know it’s asking a lot of you, to give up that life you had back in New York or in even London, to be here on the ranch with me. But we can travel. Get off the ranch when you want to. Whenever you want. But… if you can tell me that you don’t feel the same… that you can’t picture a life with me, then you can pack that suitcase up and go. Back to New York or London, or that job your father got for you. It’ll kill me, but I’ll let you go. Your father and Malcolm are at the airfield until eight tonight.”
It took her a moment to be able to speak but she grabbed his hands in hers. “Oh, Liam, I-I don’t care about that job. Or London. Or even New York. Once upon a time, I would have done anything for a job like that, but I’ve realized something coming here—it’s never made me happy the way I am with you. I’ve been as gobsmacked as you by our connection since that first day on that subway. Since you rescued me on the street that day in New York and walked me home. I couldn’t get you out of my head and my heart when we were two thousand miles apart. I admit, it was daft of me to come here, knowing I couldn’t stay, knowing we never really had a chance, but I couldn’t leave this country without seeing if I was right or wrong about you.”
A smile tipped his beautiful mouth. “And?”
She brushed the mud off his cheek with her finger. “I was right. I was very, very right about you. I love you, Liam. I love everything about you. I love you muddy or clean, here or in New York, catching cattle or simply watching you enjoy my tarts. But—”
“But?”
“What about your family? I couldn’t bear it if they judged me for—”
“For loving me? You know they’re already crazy about you. Believe me. They won’t.”
She shook her head, pulling him close and resting her head against his chest. “Is this—what’s happened between us—even possible? How can we even explain it? I feel like… I feel like I’ve known you forever.”
“Same,” he said, brushing her hair back gently. “You are the last thing I expected when I stepped on that subway train in New York City. But I think we were… meant to meet there? And thank God we did. But no one needs an explanation for it. No one, but us.”
She turned her face up to him, tears gathering in her eyes. “Then… yes.”
“Yes?”
She nodded. “Yes. I’ll marry you. Yes! Let’s see what this crazy life has in store for us. Together.”
He picked her up and twirled her in his arms, releasing a huge sigh of relief.
She laughed. “And I’ll make you flourless chocolate tarts for the next… oh, fifty years.”
He kissed her on her lips, and they both ignored the mud and the damp clothes because none of that mattered. He dropped his mouth against her neck, teasing her there. “Mmm-mm. Okay, but you might get tired of making chocolate tarts. Someday.”
“Oh, I won’t,” she assured him. “But I have a whole raft of receipts you’ve never even tasted.”
“Oh yeah?” With a wicked kiss under her ear, he said, “I’ll be your official taster. And you could… start that supper club back up right here in Marietta if you wanted to.”
She bit her lip at the thought. “You think?”
“I know a few hundred people who would love it. There’s a whole life here, Em. One you never imagined. One I never expected to share.”
“I think,” she said, kissing the edge of his jaw, “that you’re an undercover romantic, Liam Hardesty. Do you mind much if I swoon in your arms?”
She felt him smile against her hair. “If you do, I’ll catch you. Because I’ll be right here. You can count on that.”
“Then kiss me, cowboy, before I start bawling.”
And he did. He kissed her well.