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СКАЧАТЬ chuckled. “Hmm. I thought I glimpsed a little attraction there, beneath all the guff.”

      Good thing you can’t see us now, then, Jen thought, her body still thrilling at the reckless way they’d made love that afternoon.

      What had gotten into her, anyway?

      Why was Matt Briscoe able to get past her defenses so easily?

      And when had she lost all common sense? Hadn’t she learned the last time not to fall for a rich guy?

      If she wanted to know how far apart she and Matt were on that score, all she had to do was think about his casual attitude regarding the cost of her van repairs.

      A sum that was ridiculously expensive to her meant nothing to him.

      Lovemaking that—if she was honest—meant everything to her probably meant very little to him, as well.

      And though Jen had acted as if she could have sex for the pure physical pleasure of it, she knew deep down that just wasn’t true. With her, feelings were always involved.

      Her heart had already been crushed once, by someone out of her league financially. She didn’t need to have it trampled again.

      So it was best to do what she had told Matt this afternoon, and just leave things as they were. Over. Done. Kaput.

      “Jen?” Celia asked. “Are you still there?”

      “Mmm-hmm.” She shook off all romantic notions and once again focused on her friend from childhood. “How are things with you and Cy?”

      Celia groaned. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I saw my OB today. I’m three centimeters dilated. The doc said the baby can come any time now. She wants me to keep my bag packed.”

      Jen smiled and tried not to feel a little pang of envy, since she’d likely never have a baby of her own. “That’s great, Celia. Cy must be so excited.”

      “Oh, he is!”

      They talked a little more about the upcoming birth and delivery, before getting down to gallery business, and then promised to talk again the next day.

      Happy about the two sales that had transpired in her absence—and what that meant for the gallery books—Jen hung up.

      Hearing the heavy thud of footsteps, she turned toward the door.

      Emmett Briscoe appeared there. “Am I interrupting?”

      Jen put her cell phone aside and rose to greet him, immediately concerned by how he looked. “Come in,” she urged gently.

      Emmett shuffled toward her, clearly favoring one leg. He appeared tired and wan. Perspiration dotted his forehead.

      “Are you all right? Did you fall?”

      He shook his head and drew a handkerchief from his pocket to mop his face. “I think I got a little overheated when I was coming inside just now.”

      It looked like a heck of a lot more than that. Jen slipped a hand beneath his elbow and guided him to a chair. “Forgive me for saying so,” she said carefully, “but you look ill. We should get you to a doctor.”

      Grimly, Emmett shook his head again.

      “At least call Matt.”

      “Absolutely not,” he thundered, mopping his forehead once again. “Matt is the last person you should tell.”

      Well, something wasn’t right. Emmett’s left leg was trembling, while his right seemed perfectly fine. As were his hands. Which, Jen recalled, was the opposite of what had been going on this morning. Then, one of his hands had been trembling, and his legs had been fine.

      She pulled up a chair and sat facing him, clasping his hands. “You want to tell me what’s going on?” She waited for him to look her in the eye. “And don’t give me the hangover business again, because I know one when I see one and this is not it.”

      His shoulders slumped in defeat. “You’re right. It isn’t.”

      The raw emotion in his voice frightened her. Jen gripped his hands more tightly. “Then what is it?” she asked, trying not to sound upset.

      Emmett swallowed. Moisture glistened in his faded blue eyes. “Parkinson’s, most likely.”

      What did he mean, most likely? “Have you seen a doctor?” Jen asked quietly.

      “No.” He mopped his forehead again, then he stared at her with steely determination. “And I’m not going to, either. Matt and I spent years watching his mother deteriorate, bit by bit. I’m not about to make the rest of my son’s life about being my nursemaid. And that’s what it would turn into. We both know that.”

      Jen couldn’t argue. Matt was very protective of his dad.

      But what if it wasn’t Parkinson’s disease? What if it was something else? What if early treatment might make all the difference in the prognosis?

      “Matt’s going to notice your symptoms,” Jen warned.

      “No. He’s not. And you know why? Because he doesn’t want to see them.” The rancher sighed. “I understand that. I didn’t see Margarite’s infirmities, either, when she first got sick, because I couldn’t bear the thought of anything really being wrong with her. So I convinced myself that she was just tired, or coming down with a cold, or getting over a virus. Anything and everything but what was really happening.”

      Jen knew what he meant. “I did the same thing when my dad was in the last stages of liver failure.” Her voice cracked. “I—I couldn’t admit to myself that he was…”

      “Dying?”

      She nodded, then fell silent. Memories overwhelmed her and tears pricked her eyes.

      Emmett reached out and patted her arm. For a moment the two of them sat in silence, comforting each other.

      “Besides,” he said eventually, “I take great pains to avoid Matt on those days that are really bad.”

      She bit her lip. “You don’t think he’ll get suspicious?”

      Emmett shrugged, still confiding in her as naturally as if she were family. “For a while, he thought I was seeing a woman.”

      Matt had thought it might be Jen. At least that first day when he’d come to see her in her Austin studio…

      “I’ve shared this with you in the strictest confidence,” Emmett continued sincerely. “You are not to tell Matt any of it. And I need you to swear on all you hold dear that you will keep quiet.”

      Jen knew what an important first step this was. The big, brash, larger-than-life Texas rancher had admitted to her he was ill. He was trusting her to help him. And she would.

      “Yes. I promise,” she said quietly, meaning it with all her heart.

      Emmett’s СКАЧАТЬ