Page 58 of The Runaway and the Rugged
Slowly and methodically before slinking their way up to her face, and by the red taking up space on her cheeks, it was more than obvious she knew what I was doing.
Great.
And to make the timing even more perfect, Grace peeked her head around the side of Emelia and wiggled her tongue out at me.
“Come get me now, Dad,” she teased with a lifted brow and a knowing look. She was using Emelia as a damn shield and was more than delusional if she thought I wouldn’t come get her ass. But instead of taking the bait, I shot Grace a steely look.
“Stay here,” I grunted at the troublemaker. “I’m gettin’ the truck and some shoes for Emelia to wear.”
“You don’t—” Emelia went to say, but I swiftly cut her off.
“I do, now stop arguing and wait here with Grace, I’ll be right back,” I demanded before throwing a pointed finger at Grace. “And, you, be good.”
With that, I stomped down the porch steps in the direction of the ATV, hoping to God it wasn’t a mistake leaving my daughter alone with Emelia.
17
EMELIA
Ilooked ridiculous.
An oversized tee, an even more oversized pair of flannel pants, and a pair of bright red cowgirl boots, courtesy of Greta’s closet. I’ve never looked so mismatched and out of place in my entire life.
After a couple hours of shopping at a local boutique in the heart of Dusty Meadows, I was able to pick out a few nice outfits, along with some rugged “ranch attire” that was meant to handle dirt and other less-than-desirable substances. Letting Garth foot the bill shouldn’t have been a huge problem for a woman like me, considering Nathaniel never once expected me to pay. But now, watching as his hard-earned money was being spent on me, someone he barely knew, made my stomach twist. After every charge to his card, I reminded him I’d pay him back, but he shrugged it off as if he didn’t care.
As if it was no big deal.
To make things even more complicated, he sent Grace and me into the grocery store and told me to get whatever I wanted. Already, he had spent so much money and done more for me than I likely deserved, but he didn’t seem to care.
Out of the goodness of his heart, or a man with a savior complex, whatever it was, I was struggling to understand his motive. He wasn’t just another Nathaniel trying to buy my affection and take advantage of my vulnerability. Instead, Garth seemed to accept me with quiet concern without the fear of feeling obligated.
And as I pushed the shopping cart with Grace riding along the side of it, she must have picked up on my intention to check out as we made our way to the front of the store.
“That’s all you’re getting?” she asked, glancing down at the few items I grabbed.
“Your dad’s already spent too much on me, so if that means eating ramen noodles and juice, then so be it,” I explained, trying to recall the last time I even cooked ramen noodles.
“He’s not going to be happy.” She shrugged, her subtle warning leaving me to wonder exactly what she meant by that.
“He won’t be happy that I didn’t spend a crap ton more of his money?” I laughed, attempting to figure out the logic there, but when it came to Garth, I don’t think I’d ever be able to fully understand him.
“He told you to get what you wanted, and all this junk is definitely not what you wanted.”
I sent her a look.
“It is what I wanted,” I grumbled, wondering why it felt like I was conversing with a teenager rather than a twelve-year-old kid.
She rolled her eyes and hopped off the cart. “Wait here.”
I slowed down, parking myself beside the fruit section, where she jogged in the opposite direction and vanished down an aisle. I waited for what felt like ten minutes, and when she finally reappeared with a stack of various boxes obscuring her head, I realized she took it upon herself to pick out more food for me.
“Grace…” I groaned as she came wobbling toward me. Once she was close enough to the cart, she tossed the boxes inside and smiled.
“Now you should be good,” she said proudly as I took note of everything she had just thrown in there, from the oatmeal cream pies to the large box of cereal, I couldn’t help but think that this was exactly that kind of food a twelve-year-old would choose.
“I don’t need all this.” I chuckled in disbelief. “We’ll just tell your dad that this stuff is for you.”
“He won’t let me get any of this stuff.” She pouted, and instantly I knew why she had grabbed them. “But if you get them, I can have some?” She smiled wide, her resemblance to her dad and aunt uncanny with her big, beautiful brown eyes and thick dark bangs.
