Dirty-Talking Cowboy Page 8

  Lee’s head lifted, stern blue eyes narrowed on Shep. Wrinkles marred his face. Lee hadn’t aged particularly well, cigars and liquor likely the cause. He might be pushing seventy years old, but he looked closer to eighty. “About time you came in to see me,” Lee muttered.

  Shep ignored the reprimand, shutting the door behind him. “It’s been busy.” Lee wouldn’t get an apology out of him. He’d started calling even before they buried Dad. “Is there a problem with my father’s estate?” He sat in the client chair, crossing an ankle over one knee.

  Lee flipped through a stack of file folders on his desk, then pulled out one. “First, Jerry”—his father’s lawyer—“sent over all the documentation you signed with him. Everything’s in place, and you’ll gain access to your father’s accounts by the end of tomorrow, I imagine. After that, you’ll be able to transfer everything into your mother’s name.”

  “Great, she’ll be pleased to hear that.”

  Lee hesitated, reviewing his file, then addressed Shep again. “Everything is fine with the corporation. Colin will remain as CEO and run the day-to-day business, with major decisions to be determined by the family.”

  “Good—that’s what Dad wanted.” It was what his mom wanted too. She didn’t want control of the business. She’d been a stay-at-home mom, and had been the mom every kid wanted, raising three boys into men. Shep would do what he could to see that the estate was handled without putting any stress on her. “Though if that’s the case, and things are settling up nicely, what was the urgency of me coming to see you?”

  Lee reached for another folder on his desk. “To discuss the financial situation with the company.” He offered the folder to Shep.

  “What financial situation?” Shep opened the folder, reading over the numbers laid out before him. Though in only a few seconds, he realized he didn’t need to ask Lee the question. The more he read, the more he saw a disturbing truth. “Blackshaw Cattle is in financial trouble?”

  Lee nodded grimly, resting his hands on his desk. “The company has been slowly declining for the past couple years. Did your father never mention it?”

  “No, I’m afraid he didn’t.” And why the hell was that?

  Lee sighed, shaking his head in obvious disappointment. “Six months ago, I told Rick that he needed to talk to you about what was happening. If he had, perhaps this meeting would have gone very differently.”

  Shep continued to look at the declining sales over the years, and a cold worry began to creep over him. “Does Colin know about this?” As CEO of Blackshaw Cattle he had to have known, or at least been somewhat aware of what was going on.

  “Yes, I’m sure he knew,” Lee confirmed.

  Shep gritted his teeth. Why hadn’t Colin said something? “How long did my father know about this?” he pressed on.

  “I told him last January.”

  Shep sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Christ, he’d known for that long? Sure, his father was a proud man. He’d raised three sons in his shadow. Men who didn’t want a handout; they worked damn hard for any success they’d gained. Men who were proud of the Blackshaw name and the legacy their father had built. But they were a close-knit family, Jenny made sure of that. Shep didn’t think there were secrets between them.

  Until now, of course.

  Trying to make sense out of this, he glanced down at the papers again, examining each one carefully. Every number made the situation grimmer. They were losing money too fast. Was this what had caused his father’s heart attack? Was it stress-related? He flipped through more papers, discovering that as of now Blackshaw Cattle was still afloat. “How long until bankruptcy becomes a possibility?” he asked, lifting his focus to Lee.

  “A year.”

  “A year?” Shep repeated, sinking back in his seat, dumbfounded.

  “Maybe longer,” Lee said, pity in his pale eyes. “There’s no sure way to tell, but how things sit, it isn’t an if the company goes bankrupt but a when.”

  The world went bleak around him while Shep asked, “How is that even possible? Blackshaw Cattle is a multimillion-dollar company.”

  “Was a multimillion-dollar company,” Lee corrected, leaning back in his chair, resting his hands on his rounded stomach. “Buyers began to pull out when orders weren’t being fulfilled on time.” Buyers were the backbone of the company. Restaurants, butcher shops in neighboring towns, grocery stores—Blackshaw Cattle needed them to survive. “Rick wasn’t bringing in any new buyers in the last year, and the big companies that he did have, left to sign on with Irish Creek Ranch.”

  Clint Harrison owned nearly as much land as Blackshaw Cattle, and had been their only competitor since his father got into business. Shep knew they had been a real threat to his father, but not this much of a threat. Nor had he heard that buyers were leaving to go to Irish Creek Ranch. Now he suspected his father kept this information locked up tight. He read the final documents, then shut the file. “Level with me,” he said to Lee. “What exactly am I facing here?”

  Lee leaned forward against his desk, stoic as always. “You have six months to turn things around. The company is worth something now. A year from now it won’t be.”

  “Are those my only options?”

  Lee gave a slow nod. “I’m afraid your father has left you in quite the predicament. You need something more to pick up the income from the loss of the buyers.” He regarded Shep with his wise eyes, then offered, “You’re smart and strategic, Shep. Use that and rebuild what your father created.”

  “Or?”

  “Sell the company, and the land, before the business tanks. You don’t want to lose all of the Blackshaw money.”

  Dread loomed like a dark cloud above Shep, ready to sink down on his shoulders. He rose, desperate to get out of there and get air. Needing to think this through, he offered his hand. “Thank you, Lee. I’ll be in touch again when I make a decision.”

  Lee returned the handshake. “Don’t take too long, Shep. Time is against you.”

  Chapter 6

  Later that afternoon, Emma held the apple flat in her hand, lifting the treat to Tadgh. He bit off half of the apple. She smiled while he chewed. “At least you know what’s good for you.” Tadgh dipped his head when she stroked his face.

  He was a normal horse. Bentley, on the other hand, was something else entirely.

  Over Tadgh’s shoulder, Bentley watched them carefully, ears perked forward on high alert. All around his hoofs were the carrots and apples that Emma had been tossing his way over the last ten minutes. She sighed while Tadgh devoured the other half of the apple. All the other animals at the farm ate like they’d been starved for years, especially the goats, Pumpkin and Pebbles. Which she now guessed was because she hadn’t been feeding them the right food. She had felt bad about that yesterday, but today she realized they had still had hay. None of them were starving, and Grams had kept them all nice and fat.

  Besides, Emma let herself off the hook, she excelled at marketing, not farm work. Slowly, she was getting there, with help from Shep, of course. She figured Grams would be over the moon that she was at the farm at all, and Emma wasn’t selling the farm. Yet. The conversation with Mom earlier remained on Emma’s thoughts. Should she stay? Should she go back to New York City? Should she move somewhere else? She exhaled deeply, running her hand down the soft hair on Tadgh’s face. Truth was, she didn’t know what to do, her mind spinning in a thousand directions.

  Tadgh suddenly nudged her belly for another treat. She dug a carrot out of the bag this time, and he gobbled it up quickly. After she grabbed another one, and before Tadgh stole it away, she tossed the carrot toward Bentley, and it landed a foot away from his hoof.

  Nothing.

  No reaction at all.

  She began to frown, reaching into the bag for another carrot.

  “What are you doing?”

  She startled, spinning around with the carrot in her hand. Shep stood behind her, carrying a bundle of rope and a bridle, his eyes amused. She w
as momentarily frozen, her gaze fixed on that rope. Her dream was right there on her mind, the memory of how amazing Dream Shep had been when he tied her up burning through her. She glanced over his shoulder. No truck. “How did you get here?”

  “Magic.” He winked.

  She rolled her eyes but wouldn’t have been surprised at all if Shep possessed a little magic. Just being close to him again brought butterflies to her belly. And that touch of his . . . hell, that certainly was pure magic. “No, really, you obviously didn’t drive. Did you walk here?”

  “Nah.” He tucked his hands into his jeans, hooking the rope and bridle onto his arm. He’d apparently gone home and changed, since he’d had a crisp, clean black T-shirt on. “I parked at the end of the driveway because my truck is loud. I thought it might do Bentley some good to have a couple of quiet days with nothing too spooky around.”

  “That’s probably a good idea. He’s so skittish.” She turned back around to Tadgh, who hadn’t stopped nudging her for another carrot, which she quickly gave him. While he chewed, she grabbed an apple from the bag and tossed the fruit at Bentley again. The apple hit the ground and rolled toward Bentley, hitting him in the hoof.

  His snort was his only reply.

  “Is there a reason you are throwing fruit at him?” Shep asked, voice curious.

  “I think Bentley is broken,” she grumbled. “He refuses to eat any treats. At all.” She offered another apple to Tadgh, who happily ate it down in two big bites. “I mean, look at all the goodies around him. I figured this has got to be brutal. All these juicy apples and carrots just waiting for him, but nothing—”

  She went to finish but was momentarily speechless. Shep’s body pressed against her from behind, his hands coming to her hips, holding her tight to him. He dropped a kiss on her bare shoulder next to the spaghetti strap of her black tank top, and those lips were pure sin, sliding wicked heat within her to pool low in her belly. “I’m sure Bentley will wise up and eat those treats soon enough.”

  Only when he backed away could she breathe again. Seriously, this guy was something else. Powerful. Seductive. Intense. When he got close, her brain shut off and her hormones turned on. There was no controlling anything in the presence of Shep Blackshaw, so why even bother trying.

  She licked her lips and turned, her cheeks no doubt flushed, her eyes dilated with lust. Immediately, she spotted that telling curve of his mouth. Oh, yeah, he knew what he did to her, that much was obvious.

  Slowly, his grin faded, and he stepped back. Apparently, he also knew the power his closeness had on her. “Are you all settled up with the farm? Everyone fed?”

  “Yes.” She always fed the animals before dinner. “Why?”

  He gestured toward Tadgh. “I wondered if you’d like to head out for a ride. We’ve got a beautiful property.” He paused, giving a sweet smile. “Then, how does dinner at my place sound?”

  She hesitated, wondering if that was crossing any emotional lines she didn’t want to cross. After a few seconds, she realized sometimes dinner was just dinner. And hopefully dinner would lead to sex. “Sounds nice.” She smiled back.

  “Excellent.” Shep moved in his confident stride through the gate, and Tadgh went directly to him. Once Shep slid the bridle over his head, he called Emma forward with a wave. “Up you go.”

  She hesitantly entered the sand ring, keeping an eye on Bentley in case he decided to make another go at her. Each step drew her closer to Tadgh and Shep, but Bentley stayed put, probably more afraid of her than she was of him. When she finally settled next to Shep, she bent her leg and he hoisted her up onto the Tadgh’s back. After which he joined her, shifting his hips forward until he was tucked in nice and close, the strength at her back most welcome. He nudged Tadgh forward, and she noticed the rope at his side. A couple of seconds later, he lassoed Bentley; the horse stomped a hoof, objecting.

  “You’re not taking him with us?” she gasped, horrified by the thought of getting that close to Bentley again.

  “He won’t hurt you,” Shep soothed her.

  She stared at the devil horse, who looked back at her. “I don’t believe you,” she grumbled.

  Shep’s low seductive voice brushed against her ear. “Now, Emma, do you honestly believe that I would put you in situation where he could hurt you?”

  “No, of course not.” Goose bumps rose on her neck.

  “How about a little trust, then, hmm?” Shep didn’t pause or wait for her to come to terms with the idea. He simply began walking Tadgh toward Bentley, winding up the rope as he went.

  Emma gripped Tadgh’s mane, holding tighter. Shep might be all gung ho. She certainly wasn’t. With every step, the sense of danger thickened in the air, and the more Emma thought he’d up and lost his goddamn mind.

  When the rope pulled tight, Shep pressed the reins to the right and Tadgh turned, with Bentley following, his head by Shep’s leg.

  “You can breathe again,” he said.

  Emma forced the air from her lungs while Tadgh exited through the gate. A quick look back told her Shep hadn’t been wrong—Bentley followed, the rope around his neck slack. Whatever training Shep had done had worked. Bentley trusted him. Though that wasn’t much of a surprise, even she could see herself trusting him. And right now, her trust in anyone felt shaky.

  “Believe me now?” Shep asked, his strong thighs hugging hers.

  “I’m still undecided,” she teased.

  He rested his hand holding the reins on her thigh. That touch, his body tight against hers, the sense of safety, began to slow her racing heart rate. “If you truly want to help Bentley,” he offered, “you need to stop being so afraid around him. He senses it, and he thinks he should be afraid too.”

  She exhaled completely then, forcing herself to chill out. Shep was right—ever since the accident, Bentley hadn’t done anything to hurt her. She knew without a doubt that the accident was her error, not his. She shouldn’t have touched him in the first place. Besides, how could he trust people? Look how cruel they had been to him. He’d obviously had little food. She relaxed, settling against Shep’s chest.

  “Better,” Shep murmured in her ear, an obvious smile in his voice.

  Tadgh walked forward in a steady gait, heading up toward the hill. Emma began to get curious. “All right, so tell me, since you’re the horse expert and all: What does coming on this walk do for Bentley?”

  Shep gave the rope on Bentley’s neck a tug. “Horses need a job to do. Just like people. He needs a purpose. We’re giving him that.”

  “With a walk?”

  “Not the walk, necessarily, but we’re asking him to follow. That’s his job right now. To follow.”

  She wasn’t exactly sure what Shep had planned to do to help Bentley, but a walk certainly hadn’t been something she’d considered. “And that’s good enough?”

  He paused. Then, “When someone is broken, they cannot lead. It’s not weakness. It’s the nature of things.” The hinted emotion in his voice told her he wasn’t talking about the horse anymore. “Sometimes you need to follow until you make sense out of why you broke in the first place.”

  Her chest squeezed, all the things she wanted to say burning up in her throat. She glanced back toward Bentley again, staring into his warm black eyes, feeling like he was her twin. Scared. Untrusting. Confused. Yup, that was her for sure.

  Shep’s hand slid tighter, warm and strong, and that’s when she got it. Just like Bentley, everything might not be okay, but right now, this was enough.

  * * *

  Mountain views led to deep forests that led to crystal-clear creeks for as far as the eyes could see, and with each step Tadgh took, Shep began to regret his decision to take Emma on a ride. While his mind said one thing, his body wanted to take her on another type of ride entirely. She all but rested in his lap, her warm, soft bottom close to his erection, his thick thighs hugging hers. Every time Tadgh stepped forward, her hair brushed Shep’s nose. She smelled like sunshine and flowers, and having
her this close was a new type of torture he didn’t think he could survive. He swallowed back the primal nature Emma brought out, and he pressed on, believing Emma needed this ride as much Bentley. The freshness of the air, the richness of the earthy scents always grounded Shep.

  Emma seemed to need a little of that too. And he needed more time with her.

  She’d come into his life in the strangest way possible. Shep had never been one to believe in coincidences. He wanted to find out why she’d made an appearance now, when starting a new relationship was far from his mind. He’d been focused on work and growing his company so much over the past couple of years, to get the government contracts he now had, that his personal life had simply taken a back seat.

  “Enjoying yourself?” he asked, breaking the silence.

  “My God, yes. It’s so beautiful here, breathtaking really.” She turned her head slightly and he caught the side of her smile. “It’s easy to forget the world can be a brutal place when you’re out here.”

  That, he understood. It’s why often rode out here too. Precisely the reason he’d been the one to find her the morning of her accident. “The world isn’t brutal,” he gently corrected her. “People can be brutal.” Tadgh kept on steady. Bentley remained quiet, the rope slack as he followed, while Shep finished, “They can be cruel to those who don’t deserve it.”

  Emma kept silent.

  Shep thought that said a lot. He wanted to breach those walls of hers, breaking them down until he knew the Emma before she’d been tainted by pain.

  He felt her finally give a long sigh against his chest as she glanced back up in front of her. The silence only lasted a few moments before she asked, “Has anyone ever broken Shep Blackshaw’s heart before?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you move on?”

  “I picked up the pieces and remembered that her shit belonged to her, and that the reasons we ended were out of my control.”