Overprotective Cowboy - Elana Johnson Page 0,12
She had processed all of the invoices yesterday, and she needed to go through accounts receivable this morning, as well as look ahead to Friday, which was payday.
She had paperwork to process for Ted, now that he was here, and she’d need to meet with Ginger to make sure the Bureau of Prisons got the packet back they wanted, by the deadline. That ensured the ranch got the promised checks from the BOP, and Ginger would stay in good standing with them.
Emma got to work, only marking time by how restless she became the closer noon got. When her stomach gave one mighty growl, she allowed herself to glance at the clock in the corner of her computer screen.
Almost noon. Praise the Lord.
She got up and went into the kitchen, Frisco right behind her, intending to put together a shredded Caesar salad and pull out one of the leftover mini-sandwiches from yesterday. She did just that, and sat at the bar. She could take her food back to her office, but she’d made a pact not to eat in front of a screen, because then each bite was mindful.
Emma wasn’t exactly overweight, but that was because she worked really hard at not letting herself develop bad habits. The truth was, she’d lost ten pounds in the past year, after gaining twenty-five the year before.
The weight didn’t come off as fast as it went on, that was for dang sure, especially the closer to forty she got. She didn’t recover as easily from a busy day either, and if she didn’t get enough sleep? She couldn’t catch up without literally snoozing all day on the weekends.
This weekend, she had another trip to San Antonio on her calendar, and she swiped open her phone to check which hotel she’d book for herself. She stayed in a different one whenever she went, and she’d never used the same name twice.
She always paid in cash, and she’d even thought about renting a different car every other weekend when she went to visit her daughter. If anyone watched her for very long, they’d easily see she went to San Antonio on the second and fourth weekends of every month. Month after month, for years.
She’d made that deal with Ginger the day she’d shown up on the ranch, asking about the administrative job. She’d never told Ginger what she was doing, because Ginger assumed she was going to visit her family.
They’d talked a lot about family and the importance of it, and Emma hadn’t lied. She was going to see her family—just not the family Ginger knew about.
Her sisters had never asked her to come visit, and Emma probably wouldn’t have gone anyway. Sally and Meredith were like Mary Poppins—practically perfect in every way. They both had husbands with respectable jobs, and families of boys and girls—the exact same number of each.
Sally had two boys and two girls, while Meredith only had one of each. They all still lived in Lincoln, a posh little suburb of Dallas, where her parents still resided as well.
Only Emma had broken the mold and dared to move outside city limits. Only Emma hadn’t been married. Only Emma didn’t have the perfect family unit to bring home on holidays and anniversaries.
She’d never told her parents or either of her sisters about Missy either. She’d wanted to, and she’d even called Meredith, the oldest sister, to tell her. But their mother had called in, and Meredith had made it a three-way call.
She’d said, “Em was just going to tell me something.”
“Oh?” their mother had asked. “I’m sure it’s just something about one of her students. You’ll never guess what I learned from Margaret today. Her daughter is pregnant!”
“Oh, no,” Meredith had moaned. “Not Ginny. She’s not even married. She should give that baby up for adoption.”
They’d continued their conversation while Emma sat there and listened, horrified. No way she could tell them now.
She wasn’t married. She was pregnant. And yes, it had to do with one of her students…and his father.
She’d hung up silently, and Meredith hadn’t even noticed for another twenty minutes.
The doorbell rang, and Emma was glad for the distraction. She didn’t like to dwell on negative things, but they’d all been stirred up with three simple words.
Have we met?
She left the rest of her salad on her plate and went to get the door. They didn’t get a lot of visitors to the ranch, and Emma couldn’t remember the last time she’d used this door. She expected to see