Right now what she absolutely had to deal with was facing Reed. There was no more denying that something was gravely, fundamentally wrong with their relationship. Maybe she’d realized before that they hardly had a grand passion for each other, but not that they were missing something critically elemental.
Her whole world felt shaken. She kept telling herself that a few kisses from an old love shouldn’t have the power to upend her life. But reality was more that seeing Garrett again had forced open old, carefully locked emotional doors. She’d never meant to lie to herself, but it seemed she had.
Anxiety thrummed in her pulse. She’d never deliberately run from trouble or responsibility. Her mother had taught her that. Her mom, for as long as Emma could remember, had sneaked little nips all through the day “just to take the edge off.” Emma remembered her childhood as nonstop tiptoeing, trying to be quiet for her mother, trying not to give her mom yet another reason to take one of those infernal nips. So no, Emma was a long way from perfect. She did things wrong, made mistakes, sometimes bad mistakes.
But at least she didn’t run.
Yeah, right, she thought wryly as she braked in front of the stables. Her heart was thumping louder than thunder. Everywhere she looked there were tons of vehicles-the big house always had a bunch of cars parked outside, and this afternoon, with the rain, the barns and stables had pickups of all sizes and shapes lined up like a parking lot.
Rosedale had been named after Reed’s grandmother, and although Reed ran the whole kit and caboodle, his entire family was involved. And needed to be. The Kellys did everything related to horses-boarding, foaling, bloodstock management. Reed owned and trained a number of racehorses, as well, and he kept a full roster of pedigreed stallions available for stud service. The place was always packed.
In principle, Emma loved riding. But in reality she’d only done it three times because she’d fallen off all three times-a running joke between her and Reed, given his business. The point, though, was that all those cars and trucks meant he was busy. Still, Reed was always busy at this time of year, so if she wanted to talk to him, she had to track him down here and see if he could steal a few minutes.
There was no way she could break it off with him on the phone-nor would she ever have chosen that coward’s way out.
She climbed out of the car and dashed for the stable office-her first best bet at finding him. Rain soaked through her pale blue shirt and pants, but it was a warm enough rain. She was inside in seconds. Horsey smells immediately rushed her nostrils-hay and horseflesh and leather and liniment and you-know-what. Truthfully she’d always liked the smells-even the you-know-what. Just because horses never liked her didn’t mean she wasn’t fond of them.
Today, though, her stomach roiled the minute she stepped in-not because of the smell, but because she immediately heard the crazed sounds from the far end of the stable. She knew what the sounds were, knew what they meant. A mare was being mounted by a stallion-a force-feed situation that Reed was invariably directly involved in, because an ardent stallion could, and often did, hurt a mare if humans didn’t direct the activity. Harnesses and pulleys and lifts and all kinds of unlikely things were used to aid an advantageous mating. Emma got it. Advantageous marriages were a big deal in high society, no different. But if there was anything unromantic in this life, it was a mare and stallion get-together.
Instantly she realized that she’d been an idiot to come without calling-and a selfish idiot besides. Reed had never minded an impromptu visit from her, but this was different. She wasn’t just visiting. This panicked rush to see him was absurd. It wasn’t as if anything had to be settled that very second. It was guilt driving her, not really need.
Before she could turn around, Reed spotted her and separated himself from the clutch of people near the breeding station.
“Emma!”
Oh, God. His face lit up with a welcoming smile, as if she hadn’t obviously crashed his busy day. “What a great surprise,” he said and swooped down for a hug-then stopped with a sheepish grin. He did smell like horse and man sweat-and eau de stable in general. It was one of the things she loved about Reed, his consideration for her. But right then she didn’t care. She wanted a hug from her fiancé.
She wanted, needed, some kind of proof that she was crazy. If she could just feel something solid for him-with him-maybe she could talk herself out of breaking this off. She forced a warm smile. “I can see I picked the worst moment in the universe to see you. You’re busier than a one-armed bandit.”
“And with one of your favorite things. But His Highness finally decided to perform, so I believe we can sneak away from the unwilling lovebirds-”
Over his shoulder she could see at least two people turn in his direction as if wanting to ask him a question. “Darn it,” she said. “I really did pick a rotten time. I should have called.”
“I’d rather see you than do business anytime. But what’s wrong?” He steered her toward the stable office, which wasn’t far, but at least it was a little distant from all the prying eyes. Reed, being Irish, had a cast of thousands in his family-all of whom she loved a bunch. They were warm, gregarious, effusive people, exactly the opposite of her quiet, ultraprivate family. But they were also nosy. And Reed led his business the same way-like a family, with anyone who came by treated to a cup of joe in the kitchen, no fanfare and no airs.
“Come on, I can see something’s on your mind. Spill it,” he urged her. Typically his stable office resembled the aftermath of a cyclone. The phone had three active lines, the mini fridge was always stocked with pop and bottled water and his desk was heaped with horse bandages, racing schedules, worm shots and every other thing.
She touched her fingers to her temples. He talked so easily. For her, it always took effort. “Reed, I just feel that we should-”
The phone rang. He made a motion begging for patience, hooked the receiver in his ear and served her a pop at the same time. There was a mix-up in some training schedule. He leaned against the desk while motioning her to take the one and only seat-an old leather chair meant for a man to crash for a few minutes with his feet up.
She couldn’t sit. She waited, looking at this man she’d agreed to marry more than a year ago. She’d known him forever. He had those Irish looks-the brown hair, the clean skin, the mischievous smile. As a kid, he’d been good-looking in a fresh, clean-cut way, but at thirty-five, he’d come into his own. There was kindness in his character, an easy way with people. No amount of chaos ever seemed to throw him. His judgment-as far as horses and business both-had turned the family horse farm into a highly prosperous enterprise.
Emma felt the knot tie tighter in her stomach. She loved him. For real. There was really no doubt in her mind of that. No one could not love Reed. He was an absolutely super man. Good to the bone. A man you could trust through thick and thin. A family man.
What was not to love?
“Okay,” he said when he clicked off the phone. “You’ve got my full attention.”
She took a breath. Outside, she heard a rumble of an engine-like an eighteen-wheeler driving in. Voices zoomed past the stable office door. A horse whinnied. It was like trying to think in the middle of a tornado.
She took a breath, then gave up. “Reed, this is no place to talk. I’ll just-”
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” He pushed the door, which didn’t completely close but at least created a little privacy barrier. Then he lifted his phone. “I’m turning off both the pager and the phone right now-”