Emily's Cowboy Read online

  “Ouch, that hurt, Pippa.” It hadn’t really, but Gareth played along with the conversation, enjoying the banter, the connection to those around him, in the hope that he could banish the loneliness that had haunted him since his move from the country to the big city.

  He had given some thought to accepting the advances of one of his female fans just so he could feel some human comfort, block out those feelings of loneliness, but it never felt right. Gareth didn’t feel comfortable using a woman that way, knowing that any lover he took to his bed would be just a poor substitute for the one he really wanted.

  Gareth could hardly believe that he had been celibate for so long. It had to be over three years since he had last made love to Emily. That last memory was bittersweet in his mind. The pleasure of her body under his, the feel of her hot, moist pussy surrounding his cock, her skin soft to his touch, her breasts full, her nipples hard. The taste of her juices haunted him to this very day. He craved them, could still remember her flavour on his tongue, an addiction he could not cure, no matter how he tried.

  The pointlessness in holding on to those memories of her was never far from his mind. She’d ripped out his heart by sending him away. Emily had tried to make him believe that she didn’t love him anymore, didn’t want him or the plans and dreams they had spoken of so often. But Gareth knew it hadn’t been that—it had been her inability to face what had happened to her, to ignore the scars that marred her body, the marks that were a testament to her bravery. He had not seen them as she had. Gareth had hardly noticed the burns at all, but that was all Emily had seen. Even when she hadn’t been looking in a mirror, she’d seen them in her mind, and even though Gareth loved her more than anything and everything on this earth, his love hadn’t been enough for Emily. It hadn’t been enough to convince her she was his. She was beautiful. She was allowed to be happy and have all the dreams that they had planned.

  So instead of sharing the life they had planned together, both he and Emily remained alone and apart.

  “Earth to Cowboy… Come in, Cowboy…”

  “Eh, what? Did you say something, Pippa? I was miles away.”

  “Yeah, I got that impression…and I can guess where. Mitch has gone to the bar to get you another beer, said something about saving you from the attention of your adoring fans. Gareth, seriously, you need to do something about this whole Emily thing. Why don’t you take the advice I was given by someone I love, and just tell her how you feel? What’s the worst that can happen?”

  Gareth was a bit shocked that Pippa was using that same advice he had given her right back at him, but he knew in this case, words would not help.

  “Pippa, I have told her. Over and over again. I’ve begged and pleaded my case, but it didn’t help…wasn’t enough. The fire damaged more than her skin. It changed her, her spirit. My Emily is gone. She hides behind her scars, uses them to keep us apart. Who knows, maybe I’ve got it all wrong. Could be that deep down it’s just an excuse I’ve dreamt up. Maybe she just doesn’t feel the same way about me anymore. Maybe I need to face up to that. Move on.”

  Even saying the words cut deeply. Gareth would never be able to move on. He understood that. He had loved Emily for as long as he’d had memories, could not recall a time when he had not loved her in some way. Could not really remember a time that Emily had not been a part of his life. Their families were neighbours, albeit miles apart, but in the country that was the way it was. The Mackenzie house was the nearest home to the Andrews house. They had grown up together, he and Emily. They were the same age and they had played together, gone to school together. Gareth could even remember the exact moment his body had reacted to hers, male to female, and his feelings of brotherly love had become much, much more.

  He recalled noticing over their early teenage years, without a great amount of interest on his part, that Emily’s body was changing, but it was during their eighteenth year, that first time they had swum together after a long, cold winter, that he had really seen her as a temptation, as more than just a friend. The sun had finally been shining and the country heat had been rising with the return of spring, back towards the usual scorching temperatures that the northern areas of New South Wales achieved. They had spent the afternoon on horseback, riding together, checking fences between the two properties, when they’d reached one of the dams their neighbouring properties shared. The attraction of freshening their sweaty bodies in the cool water of the dam had been hard to resist. They had swum together many times, so when Emily had urged her horse in the direction of the water, yelling, “Last one in is a rotten egg!” over her shoulder as she’d taken off at full gallop, Gareth had followed suit. He had jumped from his horse before her and stripped down to his briefs quickly, as he had done many times before, and had raced to the water’s edge, winning the race his only concern. He had thrown himself into the waist-deep water and as he’d broken the surface, then stood shaking his head to clear the water and hair from his eyes, he had caught sight of her.

  She had been standing alongside his discarded clothing, had removed her boots and jeans and was clad in her girlie underwear. Her shirt, also removed, had been clutched before her, in front of her chest and she’d had a look of uncertainty about her, a shyness Gareth had never seen in her stance before. He’d stood still, had watched her as her eyes had locked onto his, had seen the slight movement of her hands as the shirt had dropped and fluttered to the ground.

  Gareth’s world had altered in that one movement. Altered for all time as his gaze had moved from her face to her body. Her very feminine body.

  Emily, wearing just a bra and panties. He had taken in the picture she had presented him. Gone was the familiar, nondescript child’s body he’d been used to seeing and in its place was a beauty he had never imagined. Emily’s breasts had filled the bra, a roundness that reminded him of soft pillows, spilled from the top of each cup. His mouth had gone instantly dry as his thoughts had turned to images of touching the tempting swells, feeling the weight of each perfect, plump breast in his hands. He had been able to imagine how good that feeling would be, fingers and hands by his sides mimicking his thoughts, pumping and clasping at the water. But the vision had not ended there. Gareth, finally managing to drag his eyes from Emily’s plump, round breasts, ran his gaze slowly over the rest of her nearly naked form. A hunger he had not ever felt before consumed him as he took in the sight of her. His Emily.

  Her black hair had fallen around her breasts all the way down to her slightly flared hips, caressing her body, outlining her shape, framing her beauty. Gareth had just made out the black covering of hair on her pussy through her white underwear, had imagined that the feel of the covering would be velvety soft to touch. Her legs were long, toned, but still had a feminine softness about them, their shape he’d found for some reason enticing. Her skin had appeared silky and he’d had the urge to run his hands along that smoothness, to caress every inch of her. He’d felt his penis go hard, achingly so, and had been glad he’d stood waist deep in water to conceal his embarrassing new reaction to her. She was Emily, his childhood buddy. Gareth had wondered what was happening to him, why her new shape was making him react in such a way.

  “Shit, Em, what happened to you?”

  Gareth remembered those eloquent words to this day. He and Emily had laughed about them on many occasions. His lack of subtlety. The fact it had taken so long for him to notice how she had grown from child to woman. It was Emily’s response to his question that had sealed their fate, her shy, timid question that had made his heart race and had him striding from the water to gather her into his arms.

  “Do you like what you see Gareth? Please say you do. Put me out of my misery. I’ve prayed for you to notice the changes in me, hoped that you would want to kiss me as much as I dream of kissing you. Just looking at you, your broad shoulders, your long legs, how strong you have become, makes me crazy. I need to feel you touching me Gareth, kissing me. Please. I don’t want to go insane. Help me.”

  An
d he had kissed her, tentatively at first, their lips joining lightly as they’d explored each other’s taste. They’d caressed and touched places that until that moment in time had been private. But to him, Emily was an extension of himself. Touching her and kissing her had felt like the most natural thing in the world to him, and yet so incredibly pleasing. The feel of her breasts had been such a wondrous thing. There were no words that got close to describing the feel of her soft skin against his.

  “Don’t even try, Mitch. He’s gone again, off in some dream world…”

  Gareth crashed back to reality as Pippa’s words to Rook about him broke through his thoughts. He was back in real time, back to the world where he now lived—the world without Emily.

  “Sorry, guys, I’m finished dreaming. Where’s that beer you promised, Rook?”

  “It’s the one that’s gone warm sitting in front of you, mate.”

  “Yeah, right. It’ll be fine. Thanks,” Gareth said. He picked up the bottle and took a mouthful of the amber fluid, putting his memories back where they belonged—locked up tightly in his mind where they could not cause him any added pain.

  ”So what did I miss? What’s the latest on the big day? Any new drama you need your Cowboy to wrangle back under control, Pippa?”

  Gareth had been both delighted and horrified when Pippa had asked him to stand up for her as a pseudo-bridesmaid. She had wanted her best friend—Cassie—Riley Walters and Gareth to act as her side of the bridal party. Luckily for Gareth, Riley had been equally horrified at the idea, and so they had been saved from what sounded like an uncomfortable ordeal. Gareth really cherished his newfound friendship with Pippa, but really? Friendship only went so far…

  “Huh, you’re just still trying to get back into Pippa’s good books after you refused to be her bridesmaid at our wedding.” Gareth could not miss Rook’s smug grin as he took a gulp of his beer.

  It was always like that between Gareth and Rook these days—both trying to score points over one another where Pippa was concerned.

  “Look, I just didn’t want Riley to feel too bad over the whole thing, so I sided with the guy. What can I say? I’m sensitive that way.”

  The ensuing laughter over his comments helped Gareth banish any residual sorrow from his reminiscing over Emily, and for the rest of the night he kept his mind locked onto the present, enjoying the friendly banter with his friends but still refusing to acknowledge any attention from the female crowd at the popular nightspot.

  Gareth was relieved that he and Rook were back to normal. Their friendship had hit a few rough spots during the whole Rook-and-Pippa drama. But they were solid again—even the perpetual teasing was just goodhearted fun. Gareth was thankful for his teammates being the stand-up guys they were, otherwise he would never have been able to deal with the life he now led, the constant training, travelling between each game and Gareth’s biggest nightmare—public appearances.

  He did love the fact that through his unasked for notoriety he could do some good in the community. Gareth enjoyed being able to bring some cheer to sick kids with his visits to children’s hospitals, or to assist charities and other good causes with fundraising by lending his services, be it standing around looking stupid or donating some signed piece of memorabilia. That was the upside of his playing footy—that and actually being on the field. Playing rugby league was his life, being pitted against rival teams, revelling in his competitive nature, his desire to be the best. But with all that came the drawbacks—the press, the spotlight, the ever-present groupies and the pain of training.

  Thoughts of training had him remembering the following day’s recovery session. Thankfully, Brodie had set it for mid-morning and not the usual crack of dawn schedule that he usually favoured. That probably coincided with the fact Brodie was at the club with his stunning redheaded wife, which was not a usual occurrence of late, as Caitlin had recently given birth to the couple’s second child. Both Brodie and JT were now proud fathers, with a boy and girl each. Gareth loved the days that the team spent surrounded by their kids and partners. They were an extended family of sorts, each member equally protective of the others. Gareth realised that it would be the closest he came to having children of his own. Being an adoptive uncle to the gaggle of children was all that he could hope for. The idea of a child that wasn’t Emily’s was not for consideration.

  “I’m heading out, Pippa, Rook. The game’s starting to catch up with me, need to go and grab some shut-eye before tomorrow’s training.” Gareth finished the last of his second beer, the fluid warm and flat, having sat on the table for so long. He was always vigilant about staying below the legal alcohol limit. He didn’t want to chance driving impaired. Alcohol and driving were not a good mix, ever.

  “Why, Cowboy? Are you feeling something serious now, something you need me to take a look at?”

  Gareth could always count on the physiotherapist in Pippa to jump all over any statement he made about soreness after a game. It was her job, after all. He also knew that she worried about him as a person.

  “No, Pippa, nothing to concern you with… Just a general tiredness.”

  “Good to know, Cowboy. Thought you were angling for a private massage or something. You know Pip’s a sucker for a strained muscle. She likes to pay particular attention to my groin area, you know.”

  “Mitch…”

  The blush that stole over Pippa’s cheeks at Rook’s sexual innuendo was a delight to Gareth.

  “Yeah, Rook, I bet she does, or maybe she’s just trying to strengthen the muscles. Maybe you’re lacking in some stamina there, bud? Catch you all tomorrow.” Gareth couldn’t resist flinging the last sledge at Rook before he headed back through the throng of party-goers to the club’s exit, looking forward to being away from the blaring noise of the music and relentless hub of the Jetstream. Deep down, Gareth was a country boy, a cowboy. He enjoyed the simple things in life—the quiet of the countryside, the wide open spaces—and even though he did love his footy, he looked forward to the day he could return to the peace and quiet of the land.

  Chapter Three

  “Son, it’s your mother.”

  “Yeah, that was a given, Mum. Not many people call me ‘son’! What’s up? Has something happened? Is Dad okay?”

  The phone had awakened Gareth from a dead sleep. Concern for his father was his immediate reaction—he was speaking to his mother, so she was obviously okay.

  “No, Gareth, your father is fine. I’m fine. It’s Mac. There has been a terrible accident…a tractor rolled. They are transporting him, by plane, to a hospital in Sydney. It’s serious, son. I’m not exactly sure of all the details—all I know is that Emily is with him. I thought you would want to know. She might need a familiar face, some support. I know you two are not… Well… I know things are different. But I just wanted you to know…you know, in case.”

  “Which hospital, Mum?”

  Gareth could tell his mother was worried, could understand her concern for the Mackenzie family, for Mac and Emily. They had been neighbours and friends forever—close friends, a friendship only those in the rural community could begin to understand. Gareth had appreciated the fact his parents had never made an issue of what had happened between him and Emily, had respected his privacy surrounding the events. But Gareth knew his mother was disappointed. Her heart had been set on he and Emily marrying some day, having her grandchildren, but she had tried to hide her disappointment from him, had been supportive of his decision to move to Sydney and sign with the Jets. And she had been right to call him about what had happened.

  He pulled on the nearest clothing he could find, grabbed his keys and phone, then took off at a frantic pace for the hospital. He was thankful for the GPS system installed in his car as it showed him the way, and he arrived as the dawn’s rays heralded the beginning of a new day. All Gareth’s thoughts centred on finding Mac and Emily and being there for them, whatever they needed.

  After enquiring at the hospital’s reception and admissions d
esk in a not so polite or friendly way—more a demand to know where Mac was being cared for—Gareth took off all but running, trying to correctly navigate the maze of corridors and doors that would lead him to his destination. Only to be halted in his desperate undertaking at the last impediment—the entrance to the intensive care ward—by a stern, determined nurse.

  “Only family members allowed at this stage, sir, I’m sorry. If you take a seat in the waiting room, I’ll go and find out some information for you about the patient’s welfare, although there is not much I can tell you without the consent of the patient or his family.”

  Gareth saw red, so angered by the obstinate nurse denying him entry that he could feel himself shaking.

  “That’s just bullshit. Mac is like family to me and his daughter is facing this on her own. They need me with them,” he shouted, his words harsh as frustration joined with the anger he now felt. One set of doors was all that stood between him and Emily. All that was keeping him from her—and Mac—was one stubborn, autocratic hospital employee.

  “Be that as it may, sir—and I must insist you refrain from using that type of language—I’m just doing my job, following hospital policy. The policy that states ‘immediate family only’.” The nurse pointed at the sign on the hospital wall that confirmed her stance, but Gareth was not appeased, and growled in frustration as he read the words. “Please, if you sit down and stop shouting at me I can go and get you some information.”

  She was right. Gareth had no right to speak to her in such a rude manner. It was just that he was worried sick.

  “You’re right. I apologise. Please, if you could go and check on Mac—I mean, Daniel Mackenzie from Gunnedah—I’d be very grateful for your help. Tell them Gareth Andrews is here, if you can.”

  Gareth noticed the flicker of recognition in the nurse’s eyes at the mention of his name, and the way she gave him another subtle once-over. But he was relieved she didn’t waste time acknowledging the fact as she hurried off behind those doors, those grey impediments keeping him from getting what he wanted.