Page 45 of The Runaway and the Rugged
It made my stomach flutter. It made my heart dance.
And after long, hot, much-needed scrubbing, I slipped into the comfy clothes.
Garth’s clothes.
13
EMELIA
Waking up was the last thing I wanted to do. Even with a steam of light pouring into the space, directly crossing over my eyes, I did everything in my power to remain asleep. And it seemed to be working after I rolled onto my stomach, but just when I was about to drift into complete numbness, the faint sound of knocking jolted me awake.
“Five more minutes, Mom,” Clarke grumbled under her breath.
The soft knocking went on again, sending my feet to kick the blanket off my form and rise off the bed.
Who could that be? Garth?
A rush of butterflies expanded in my gut, and when I peered down at a softly snoring Clarke, I realized I was on my own to answer the door. Hair clinging to my cheeks, and an outfit three times the size of my body, I padded my way over to the door. Using my fingers to comb through the knots in my hair I tried to make myself look more presentable, but I knew I needed much more than just a quick brush through my copper locks to meet that goal.
Then with tentative movement, I gradually swung open the door, expecting a tall, handsome cowboy to greet me, butinstead, a smaller, much more adorable version of Garth greeted me.
“Whoa.” The small girl watched me with wide, searching eyes. “Aunt Greta wasn’t joking.”
Long, dark hair and a face that resembled Garth’s, it suddenly dawned on me that this was his daughter standing before me. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a cute purple top, she stared at me as if I were some foreign entity that just landed on this property.
Hell, I probably looked the part too.
“Uh, good morning?” I stepped a foot out the door and peered in both directions, searching for a sign of someone else who may have accompanied her. “Is there something I can help you with?”
She shook her head.
“No, I just wanted to see if Aunt Greta was telling the truth. She said we had a runaway bride stayin’ on the ranch and I wanted to get a look for myself.”
Oh. Wonderful.
“Don’t worry, you don’t need to be embarrassed. She said the man you were goin’ to marry was a real jerk.” She rocked back and forth on her feet with a lifting smile that really showed just how closely she resembled her father. “I’m Grace, by the way. My dad is Garth, the one who found you yesterday.”
It was nearly impossible to not find her charming. She was a beautiful young girl, maybe twelve or pushing thirteen with the sweetest little dimples and big, brown eyes.
“It’s nice to meet you, Grace.” I returned her smile, and stepped outside onto the front porch with her. “You can call me Emelia.”
“Emelia,” she tested out my name. “That's a pretty name.”
“The name Grace is much better, if you ask me.” I winked.
She giggled.
“You have nice hair too. Maybe my dad will let me get red in my hair since he’s seen how pretty yours looks.”
The idea of Garth thinking that I have pretty hair made me feel more giddy than I had expected.
“Red is overrated,” I teased. “Besides, your hair is perfect, I’d give anything to have curls and that shade of dark brown.”
Her grin widened as she ran her palm down a thick chunk of her beautiful hair.
“I could curl your hair like this one day if you want me to?”
My heart twisted hearing the hopeful tone in her voice. She probably assumed I was staying here longer but instead of letting her down, I opted to give her some reassurance.
