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A Snowbound Cowboy Christmas Page 5
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Page 5
With Christmas less than a week away, he figured most people wouldn’t want to be bothered discussing a business deal this size. He wondered if one partner would even be enough. He might need to form his own investment group. But who would want to finance a sinking ship?
Dylan stopped a few of his ranch hands’ wives in line and directed them to the large round table where Emma sat. By the time he arrived, it was almost full and she was happily chatting about babies. Perfect. She was forming a connection with them. That was exactly what he had hoped for.
“The women want to teach me how to knit.” Emma frowned as he placed a fresh plate in front of her and took a seat.
“What’s wrong with knitting?” Most of the women he knew did it. Wasn’t that the in thing? Not that he was up-to-date on women’s hobbies but, based on bits of conversations he’d overheard around the ranch, many of his female employees were involved in some sort of crafting.
“I can barely sew a button on a shirt, let alone intricately weave yarn into clothing.”
“So make a simple blanket. Create something special for your daughter that she’ll hand down to her own daughter someday.”
“I hadn’t expected you to be the sentimental type.”
“I’m sentimental about a lot of things.” Dylan forked a mouthful of scrambled eggs.
“I know, I know. This ranch being one of them.”
“I’m attached to this ranch because I live on it and my employees depend on it. But I wouldn’t say it’s a sentimental attachment. The homestead my family lost after my father died...that was a sentimental attachment. I hope to one day buy it back if the current owner ever decides to sell.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
“No need to apologize. It’s no secret around here. My brother Ryder killed my father. He was sentenced to ten years in prison, half of which he’s already served. I’m the oldest of five. I’ve always looked after everyone else. I feel the responsibility to have a place where people can work and make an honest living. I wanted Ryder to have that option once he got out of jail—if there’s anything left to salvage of our relationship—but now that may not be possible if the ranch continues on a downward spiral.”
“And you want me to help you?”
Dylan nodded. “You’ve met some of these people. This isn’t just my home. It’s theirs, too. I don’t want them to have to start over. I could handle it. Many of them can’t.”
Emma looked down at her hands. “I didn’t realize how difficult this has been for you.”
Her eyes met his and for the first time, he believed her. “No, you didn’t.”
Emma tensed. “At least we have that much in common. I don’t think you understand how difficult this has been for me, either.”
As much as he could use Emma’s expertise on how to entice potential investors, asking her to do so would violate her ethics. It was a shame they had such opposite goals. Their combined determination would have made them a great team.
* * *
IT WAS NINE o’clock before Emma waddled away from the table. Somewhere during that time, she had amassed the phone numbers of ranch women willing to share all the secrets of child-rearing, or so they said. Melinda had a six-month-old of her own and had generously offered to teach her the basics of bathing and changing an infant. Emma wasn’t sure she was ready for the hands-on approach just yet. She still had the child-care class to take at the hospital back home. She had thought she would have two more months to prepare for actual infant holding. The thought terrified her more and more each day. Especially since she had never held a baby...ever.
When noon rolled around—one o’clock Chicago time—Emma’s stomach began to churn. Either the baby was pressing her nausea button or her nerves about the conference call were getting the best of her. She was halfway to her room when her phone rang.
Crap! It was a video call. Not what she had expected.
“Hello.”
“Emma.” Charlie’s face appeared on the screen. “I’m here with Rob and Don. We need an update on the Silver Bells acquisition.”
“I haven’t made any progress yet. I—”
“You’ve been there for a day and you’ve done nothing?” Charlie scowled.
“The ranch is snowed in and Dylan’s had his hands full dealing with that. I’ve barely seen him,” she fibbed. “I’m sure I’ll have a chance once things calm down around here.”
Emma sat on a bench in the hallway, dreading Charlie’s response.
“Okay, getting snowed in may be a good thing.” Don’s face popped into the screen. “That will give you some time to work on...” He shuffled some papers. “Dylan, is it?”
“Yes.” She’d just said his name two seconds ago. So much for her home team being on top of things.
Charlie’s brows furrowed. “Emma, are you sure you can handle this?”
“You need to find something to use against this Dylan person,” Rob said before she had a chance to respond to Charlie. “Convince him to sell at any cost.”
Emma fought the retort that was on the tip of her tongue. She refused to play dirty.
“I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake, do I?” Charlie leaned in, his face filled the entire screen like an ominous presence. “If you can’t close this deal then I’m afraid you’re not ready for the acquisitions director promotion. Why don’t I send Don up to assist you?”
Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She didn’t need Don’s help. “The roads are closed. You can’t get here. Nobody can get here.”
“I’m sure somebody around there must rent snowmobiles,” Don snipped.
Snowmobiles. Of course, he would think of that. “I’m sure they do. But thanks, anyway. I’m fine on my own.”
“Emma, close this deal before you leave there. We have too many long-standing investors counting on this.”
Emma stood and felt lightheaded. She gripped the corner of the wall and sat down. “I’m trying, Charlie. Believe me, I’m evaluating every available option.”
“Okay, then. We’ll talk more later. Take care of that baby of yours.” And then the screen went blank.
“Merry Christmas to you, as—Dylan! How long have you been standing there?”
Mr. Pick-Your-Brain leaned languidly against the wall opposite her.
“Long enough to see that conversation made your blood boil.”
“You know it’s not nice to eavesdrop.”
“You’re having a conference call in the middle of the hallway in my lodge. It’s kind of impossible not to overhear.”
Yeah, okay that was true. For some reason, face-to-face conference calls with men in her hotel room creeped her out. “Now you understand my pressure?”
“Let me ask you something.” Dylan settled next to her on the bench, the length of his thigh touching hers. “Why do you put up with it? Can’t you find another job where they appreciate your talents? That was a whole lot of ridicule for a short conversation.”
“Then I would be admitting defeat.” Emma wouldn’t dream of quitting her job. Not after the six years of her life she’d devoted to the commercial real estate acquisitions firm. “It was the first place I worked for when I got out of college. I literally started at the bottom as an intern and worked my way up. I’ve accomplished quite a bit for someone who’s only twenty-eight. My goal was to make acquisitions director before I turned thirty. The problem is, that position rarely opens. The last acquisitions director had been there for twenty years. It’s available because he retired. This is my chance. Probably my only chance to advance.”
“But I’m not willing to sell.”
“I know but—” Emma doubled forward. The pain below her ribs felt like someone had shoved an ice pick through her body. “Dylan, help me! Something’s wrong with my baby. Oh, God, please!
”
Chapter Five
The urgency in her voice told him something was really wrong. He lifted her into his arms. “I’ve got you.” Dylan carried her down the stairs and into the lobby. “Sandy!” he shouted toward the dining room. “I need to get Emma to the hospital. Stay with her while I get the snowcat.”
“Oh, my God, it hurts.” Emma sobbed as he lowered her into the lobby chair. “Please hurry, Dylan. Don’t let me lose my baby.”
“I won’t.” He promised as he ran out the front door. He pulled his keys from his pocket and jumped on his snowmobile. His hands shook as he found the right key. Jamming it into the ignition, he started the machine and tore off toward the stables. From a distance he could see the layer of snow on the snowcat’s windshield and he prayed it hadn’t iced over. There wasn’t time to wait for it to defrost.
The snowmobile skidded to a stop alongside the snowcat’s tracks. He snatched the keys from the ignition and fumbled for the one to open the door. Then he hopped onto the track and swiped at the windshield. It was all powder, thank God. He unlocked the door, swung it wide and climbed into the driver’s seat. The diesel turned over without hesitation. His snowcat may be old, but it was reliable.
When he reached the lodge’s entrance, he couldn’t be sure how much time had passed. One second seemed too long. He felt something had been off with Emma since she had arrived and his instincts had been correct.
Dylan parked outside the entrance and raced inside for her. Tears streamed down her face as he lifted her back into his arms. He tightened his grip on her and stepped into the cold. A bitter wind stung his cheeks as he tucked her closer to his body.
Sandy ran ahead of them and opened the passenger door. “Here’s her bag. Rhonda went to her room and got it. And I called Harlan,” she panted. “He’s going to meet you at the intersection of South Fork and Anderson. He said the roads to the hospital are plowed from there.”
“Thank you.” He eased Emma onto the seat and gently fastened her seat belt across her lap. “The hospital isn’t far.” He closed the door, looked skyward and silently prayed Jax was looking down on them.
* * *
DYLAN PACED THE hospital waiting area. A wiser man would have dropped Emma off and been done with the situation. Unfortunately, he had this inexplicable need to remain close by in case she needed him, even though the logical part of his brain reassured him she wouldn’t. Sure, he wanted to be certain she was all right, but he had zero connection to this woman and her child outside of their nonexistent sale of the ranch.
Okay, so that wasn’t altogether true. He’d been physically attracted to Emma from the moment they’d met. He just had a strong distaste for her endgame. But his attraction to her began and ended there. There certainly wasn’t an emotional attachment. Yet he couldn’t force himself to walk out the hospital’s doors.
“Mr. Sheridan.” A nurse in bright pink scrubs approached him. “Both momma and baby are stable. The doctor is about to begin the ultrasound, so if you will follow me, I will take you to her.”
Mr. Sheridan? The woman assumed he was Emma’s husband. He opened his mouth to correct her but ended up saying the opposite of what he’d intended. “Great, thank you.”
The walk down the hospital corridor seemed endless. With each step, the voice inside his head begged him to run in the opposite direction. But his body refused to obey. He needed to see for himself that Emma and the baby were fine.
He halted in the doorway of the room when he saw her reclined on a bed, wearing a hiked-up hospital gown to expose her bare belly and nothing more than a sheet covering her lap and legs. Two wide bands stretched around her abdomen and held what Dylan assumed were fetal monitors of some sort in place. Emma’s attention was transfixed on the screen attached to her stomach as the sound of a heartbeat reverberated throughout the otherwise quiet room.
“Your daughter still sounds strong and healthy.” The doctor looked up from the monitor’s printout. “Your blood pressure is my primary concern. It’s more elevated than I would prefer.” The woman glanced in his direction. “Is this the baby’s father?” she asked.
Emma held out her hand to him. “Please, come in.” Despite her weak smile, fear emanated from her delicate features. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t leave now. Any desire to escape had faded and he didn’t understand why. He crossed the room to her bed. Her fingers entwined with his, gripping his hand tightly. “Dylan’s a friend,” she said as her eyes met his. “Right? At least for today.”
They had been sworn enemies since the beginning, but even he refused to deny her when she needed someone most. He scanned the numerous machines connected to her body. “Are you in labor?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and dug her fingers into his flesh as the doctor returned her attention to the printout. “Easy, Emma, it’s almost over. She’s experiencing Braxton-Hicks contractions. It’s false labor, but we’ll continue to monitor her overnight. Let’s begin your ultrasound.”
“I should leave.” As soon as he uttered the words, he realized he hadn’t meant them. He didn’t know if it was because he wanted to see for himself that the baby was okay or if his strong desire to stay was out of curiosity. He’d never been involved in any pregnancy aside from his brother Harlan’s wife, Belle, who was almost in the middle of her second trimester. He’d seen an ultrasound photo, but that was the extent of it. When she didn’t release his hand after the contraction subsided, it unnerved him even more. The ultrasound didn’t scare him. The situation did. He didn’t want to get close to Emma or her baby, because he had no intention of ever forming an attachment to another man’s kid again. Losing his stepchildren had almost destroyed him and he refused to be a two-time fool.
Emma averted her eyes. “I want you to stay.” Her voice no more than a whisper.
“Okay.” Dylan relented. He reached for the chair near the bed and pulled it closer.
“This will feel cold at first.” The doctor squeezed a tube of clear gel on Emma’s abdomen and spread it with the ultrasound probe. Various shades of white and grey danced across the screen until an image of the baby appeared. “There’s your daughter.”
“My little butter bean.” Emma smiled through her tears. “Is she really all right?”
The doctor continued to move the probe. “I don’t see any abnormalities. She’s exactly where she should be at thirty-two weeks.”
Dylan fought the urge to wipe away her tears. He looked from the screen to Emma’s belly and back again. That tiny person was growing inside of her. He’d seen plenty of horse ultrasounds, but this was different. This was...far too intimate for her to share with him. She needed her mother or her best friends by her side. Not someone who hadn’t been very nice to her.
“We’ll perform another one tomorrow, but I’m fairly confident there won’t be any change. I’m more concerned about your blood pressure and the possibility of preeclampsia. Your baby is healthy and strong, and I need you to be healthy and strong so you can carry her at least another six weeks.” She handed the probe to another woman in pink. “Tricia is going to get a good ultrasound photo for you. I want you to rest tonight. I know that’s difficult to do in a hospital. We’ll leave your fetal monitors on as a precaution, so if there’s anything out of the ordinary they will alert us right away. Again, Emma, the signs point to Braxton-Hicks and not preterm labor. Try to get some sleep and I’ll check on you in the morning.” The doctor squeezed her other hand.
“Thank you,” Emma said as the woman left the room. She readjusted her gown and pressed the bed’s remote until she sat more upright. “And thank you for staying here with me even though you didn’t have to.” She smiled up at Dylan. “I didn’t want to go through this alone.”
“Don’t mention it.” Dylan stood, breaking physical contact with Emma. He jammed his hands in his pockets to prevent touching her again. “I should get goin
g and let you sleep.”
“As if I could sleep now. Besides, it’s not even two o’clock.” She stared at the photo Tricia handed her. “Believe me, I am anything but tired. Stay with me for a little while longer. Help distract my mind from all of this.”
Two o’clock? One hour had felt like twelve. “What would you like to talk about?” He didn’t know how to idly chitchat with a pregnant woman. He sat on the edge of the chair, braced for a quick exit. He’d already crossed too many lines this evening. “Baby names? You mentioned earlier that you haven’t chosen one yet. Do you have any in mind?” Dylan couldn’t believe what he was saying. He sounded like his mother. Now, there was a woman who would have been right at home discussing babies with Emma. If only she hadn’t moved to California, he could have called and asked her to trade places with him. For both his and Emma’s sake.
“I haven’t even had a chance to buy a baby name book yet.” A tinge of pink rose to her cheeks. “I’ve been busting my butt to close this deal before I go on maternity leave.”
“There is no deal, Emma. I know the ranch is in trouble, but I’ll find a way to save it. Selling is not an option. Your vision for it doesn’t mesh with mine.”
“Can you hand me my bag over there?”
Dylan retrieved the large leather purse from the windowsill. Emma dug inside of it and removed a small black tablet. “Let me show you my plans for Silver Bells.”
“You have got to be kidding me. You’re in the hospital, supposedly concerned about your baby and you’re still trying to convince me to sell. No wonder your blood pressure is so high. Instead of fixating on my ranch, you should download a baby name book on that thing.” Dylan returned the chair he had been sitting on to its original place against the wall. “I think it’s time for me to call it a night.”