Page 37 of The Rancher’s Ecstasy

“She drove off. She talked about finding a motel for the night. Cole, she looked devastated but tried really hard to hide it.”

He walked rapidly toward the barn doors and cringed as a bolt of lightning hit within a half mile of the house. “Are you fucking kidding me? It’s storming out, bad. She shouldn’t have done that.”

“I guess she was desperate to get away from her ex.”

Cole hit the palm of his hand against the open barn door. “And me. She probably wants to get away from me now.”

Daisy punched him lightly on the arm. “You can fix this, Uncle Cole. She’s worth a fight.”

Cole pulled Daisy into his arms. “You’re right about that, Half-pint.” He laughed when Daisy groaned at the nickname he gave her when she was young. “I’ll be back tomorrow. With Emily.”

He heard Daisy laugh as he raced into the rain. When he got to his truck, he was drenched, but he didn’t care.

As he drove away from the ranch, he vowed he’d find Emily and fix the damage he’d done to their relationship. There was no other option.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Emily threw open the front door to the motel she’d found by accident. The rain was coming down so hard she’d almost driven by it.

Cold air hit her rain-drenched body, sending a shiver down her spine. She gritted her teeth to prevent them from chattering as she walked up to the counter where an older woman sat watching an old black-and-white TV.

“Excuse me.” Emily waited a moment. “Excuse me, ma’am.”

The woman turned on the stool. “What do you need?” she said almost resentfully.

Emily was taken aback by her attitude. “I’d like a room for the night.”

The woman pushed a large ledger book at Emily. “Sign in here,” she said before she turned back to her show.

Emily shook her head and signed.

“That will be $60.00 for one night.”

Emily opened her purse and pulled out three twenties. “Here you go. Can I have a receipt? please.”

The woman scowled and grumbled something under her breath but made out a receipt and slid it across the counter to Emily along with a key.

“You’re in seven at the end of the hallway. You need to be out by 10:00, or you pay for another night.”

Emily watched the woman turn back to her show as if Emily wasn’t there. Emily shook her head and picked up her briefcase and purse and made her way down the hallway. Her eyes scanned the room as she walked in. The place was old but clean. Although at this time, all she cared about was a hot shower and sleep. She’d figure out what to do about tomorrow in the morning.

Emily went into the bathroom and shed her sopping clothes, wringing out as much water as possible, and cranked up the wall heater. She laid the clothing over the counter across from the heater. She hoped by tomorrow they would be dry enough to wear with some comfort because she hadn’t brought anything else with her. She draped her panties and bra directly on the heater.

She turned the hot water on full force before stepping in, being careful not to burn her chilled skin. Emily washed and conditioned her hair with the little bottles the motel provided, then scrubbed her skin with the small soap and washcloth until it tingled.

Emily took one deep breath after another when emotions struggled to take over. A sob tore from her throat and then another, and another until there was no strength left to hold herself up. She slid down and sat on the floor of the shower, her arms wrapped around her bent knees as the water beat down on her head.

Dammit, why did this happen? Everything was going so well between Cole and her. She really expected their relationship to last beyond her scheduled departure. But if he really thought she’d be with him while she was still married, he didn’t know her at all, and she couldn’t see wishing for something that might never come. It was better to just let it go and drive back home.

Tomorrow she’d go back to the ranch to get the rest of her things, pack, and head out. If Winston was still there, she’d kick him in the nuts. If Cole was there—no, she couldn’t think about that. She just needed to get through the night. She was strong. She’d been through a lot and come out fine. Nothing, not even her divorce, had been this painful, she thought, but it didn’t matter, she didn’t have a choice. The tears kept falling.

Emily sobbed until her throat swelled, and her eyes burned. She sat silently, catching her breath and trying to bury some of the dark, hurtful emotions that wanted to enfold her in a ball of misery so harsh she knew it would be impossible for her to move. She needed all her strength, so she could function enough to get out of the shower, dry off, and make it to the bed before she collapsed.

She stood feeling like an old woman and turned off the water. She twisted her hair, squeezing the water out before pulling one towel from the shelf above the toilet, wrapping it around her head, and reaching for another for her body.

Emily used a washcloth to wipe the condensation off the mirror. She turned her face first right and left and tried to find what it was about her that made men think they could use her and then throw her away or treat her like she didn’t matter.

A sob bubbled up her throat again, and she tried desperately to push it down, only to have it burst from her chest. She sat on the toilet seat and laid her face in her hands and let the tears roll, hoping it would lessen the tightness in her chest.