Emma froze to the spot and watched him go, his gait easy and casual. Nothing inside Emma felt easy and casual as her whole body throbbed with her pulse now.
“Okay,” Ginger said, appearing in front of her. “I’m headed out too. Thanks for putting all of this together for Ted.” She hugged Emma, and Emma wished she could relax into the embrace. Ginger had always made her feel so safe and so loved, and it was literally because of the auburn-haired beauty that Emma had survived after she’d had Missy.
“All right,” Emma said. “I know Bill kept good records in the stables for you.”
“Yeah.” Ginger stepped back and sighed. “I always feel behind.”
“You were gone for the weekend,” Emma said. “You’re allowed to leave the ranch sometimes.” She picked up the lid to a container of ranch dip—store bought—and clicked it into place. “Did you and Nate and Connor have a good visit with his family?”
“Yeah,” Ginger said slowly. “It was good. I think his family was surprised he’d gotten engaged so quickly.”
“We were all a little surprised by that,” Emma said, glancing at Ginger. “And I was because of you, Ginger.”
“I know.” Ginger looked toward the back door, where the cowboys had gone. “I do love him, though.”
“Mm.” Emma turned to put the cold items in the refrigerator. “What are you going to do? Build another house here? Get a place in town?” She lived in this house with Ginger right now, as did Jess, and three other women—Hannah, Michelle, and Jill. Sometimes, one of Ginger’s sisters needed a place to stay too, and she’d come to the West Wing.
“I haven’t decided,” she said. “I think build another house here. We have plenty of land, and then we can basically call this the administration building and bunks.” She looked at Emma. “Has a nice ring to it, right?”
“Nice,” Emma agreed with a smile.
“I could move the cowboys out into the cabins on the ranch,” she said. “And we’ve got those two in the corner as well.”
“But then where would we put the guests?” Emma asked.
Ginger frowned. “We could build more cabins.”
“Are your parents still considering living in one of those cabins in the corner of the yard?” Emma managed a lot for Ginger, and she didn’t mind reminded her of the things her boss and best friend didn’t keep in her head.
“Yeah,” Ginger said. “I need to talk to them about that. Those cabins haven’t been lived in for a while.” She looked at Emma with hope in her eyes. “Maybe with some creative shuffling, Nate and I could live in the Annex.”
“Another possibility,” Emma said. “You’d have to talk to Hannah about the accounting if you’re going to build or take away revenue from the guest cabins.” Hannah worked on the ranch about seventy-five percent of the time. Other than that, she did the bookkeeping and taxes for the ranch. She oversaw the global money management, while Emma did more of the day-to-day expenses and payroll.
“It would be like five or six more buildings if we built.” Ginger shook her head. “I don’t want that many new buildings. We still want people to come here for a true wildlife experience.” She smiled at Emma and shrugged. “I need to think more about this, but I’ve got to run. See you later.”
“Yeah, bye.” Emma kept cleaning up after Ginger left, her mind moving at ten times the speed of her hands. Hope Eternal Ranch was fifteen hundred acres of wetlands, meadows, natural lakes, trees that grew along the riverbanks, and brush land. People came here for hunting, fishing, bird-watching, to gather and buy honey, to see the butterflies as they migrated south, and so much more.
They made their living on tourists—and the horseback riding lessons they did. So many horseback riding lessons, and Emma suddenly remembered what she needed to get done that day.
Invoices for the almost two hundred horseback riding accounts the ranch had.
A sigh pulled through her body, and she really just wanted to wander down the dirt lane behind the house until she came to the border of the ranch, where the Mission River flowed.
“Later,” she muttered to herself as she put the last of the chocolate cake under foil and moved toward the office. As she sat behind her computer, her mind was already centered on Ted Burrows and not the invoices she needed to complete.
She pushed against him, but he would not move. He stayed right there, those handsome eyes and his deep voice asking, “Have we met?” while she clicked and started setting up the batch invoicing program that would bring in another month’s fees for the lessons.
Chapter Three
Ted didn’t know how to sleep for more than a few hours in a row. His body was used to getting up every couple of hours, and when the sun finally started turning the darkness into day, Ted finally got out of bed for good.
He’d spent some time with just Nate and Connor the night before, in the room on the other side of the bathroom. Nate had a small TV on his dresser, and he and Connor liked to watch a cooking show before bed every night. Ted had relaxed in a recliner in the room, and he’d marveled at how simple life could be outside of prison.
His life before prison had not been simple. He’d been a workaholic, he knew. He didn’t mind it, though, because he’d grown up working. His father owned a dry cleaning shop in a small suburb south of San Antonio, and all of the Burrows kids were expected to learn the business, work at the shop, and more from a very young age.
Ted had gone on to college and then law school, with the full intention of returning to Clydesdale and the family business eventually. He just wanted some experience first, and then he’d open up his family law firm next door to the dry cleaning shop.
That had never happened, and it was never going to happen. He’d lost his license when he’d been convicted, and he had no desire to get it back.
Nate had said he could take Ted to town that day and get some of his personal affairs worked out. Things like a bank account and a cell phone, groceries, personal items, whatever.
Ted had agreed, and as he padded into the kitchen in his gym shorts, he once again marveled that he could walk around without anyone checking on him. Not only that, but he didn’t have to wear a shirt.
He started to make coffee, the action so simple and yet so amazing at the same time. He yawned while it started to percolate, and he reached up to touch his jaw. He had stubble there, and his first thought was he better shave before any of the UO’s saw.
Just as quickly as that thought had come, it left, replaced with, You don’t have to shave if you don’t want to.
And he didn’t want to. He wanted to see how big and long his beard could become, because for the first time in almost six years, what his facial hair looked like was up to him. He could decide.
Nate had told him to eat anything in the house that morning, but before Ted could open a single cupboard, another cowboy came into the kitchen. “You’re up early,” he said with a smile. “And you made coffee already.”
The other man had medium-brown hair with kind, hazel eyes. He opened a cupboard and took out a couple of boxes of cereal. “I know you didn’t have time to go to the store yesterday,” he said. “You can have anything here.”