NO ONE WAS MORE SURPRISED by his declaration than Tyler Roundtree himself. What the hell am I doing? But one look at Walker and he knew — no way in hell would he let him anywhere near Emma. And if Rafe thought he would sit idly by and let it happen, he was sadly mistaken.

Emma’s eyes locked on his, fear and uncertainty shimmering in their emerald depths.

He said the first thing that sprang to mind, deliberately using the pet name she forbade Walker to use. “I’m sorry I blurted it out, Em.” He covered her clenched fist with his hand, squeezing lightly. “I know we are still discussing things.”

No one spoke for several heartbeats, tension in the room palpable.

“That right, girl? You and Tyler here talking marriage?”

Rafe’s question didn’t immediately penetrate her bewildered brain as she stared open-mouthed at the man who just told everyone they were getting maried.

Ty squeezed her hand and nodded toward her father. “Em?”

She blinked rapidly and drew in a breath. “Y-yes, we’re…discussing it.”

“Like hell.” Walker’s soft expletive pierced the silence like a knife.

Ty turned to his adversary, cold, grey eyes unblinking, and said nothing.

The stare-down continued until Rafe began coughing uncontrollably.

Emma moved to his side, hand rubbing his back until the spell abated. “Papa? Will a sip of water help?”

He shook his head slowly and gasped for air. “Ty…take me…back…to my room?”

Ty immediately got to his feet. “Of course.”

Henry stood as well. “Need any help?”

“No, thanks. I got it.”

Sarah covered her mouth with both hands. “Oh no!”

“Sweetheart? Are you going to be sick again?” Henry turned to his wife who simply nodded and staggered from the room, Henry beside her, leaving Emma and Walker alone.

By the time Ty reached the older man’s room, his breathing had diminished to ragged gasps. He easily lifted him from the chair and settled him in bed. He turned, expecting to find Emma waiting and was surprised when he didn’t.

He poured water into the basin and dipped a cloth in it, then gently wiped the older man’s brow, holding the moist rag against his chapped lips.

“Shut…the door…son.” Rafe’s weak command nonetheless brooked no opposition.

Ty did as instructed and returned to the chair by the bed.

“Emma is…everything…to me.”

But you would give her to Walker without blinking an eye. He kept his face blank, revealing nothing of the barely controlled anger seething inside.

“Don’t want…her to…marry…Walker.”

His statement shocked him to the point he sat up straight and speared him with steely eyes. “Not the impression I got tonight.”

He shook his head. “I’m dyin’, Tyler, but I ain’t blind.” He wheezed in and out. “You make her smile.” His jaw clinched, relaxed. “Want your word… won’t mistreat her.”

Ty looked at the old man and nodded. “You have my word, sir.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

Emma stared at the retreating figures, stunned to find herself alone with Walker who stood an arms-length away from her, his anger almost tangible.

“You think you can get rid of me so easily?” He ran his index finger down her cheek. “Think again.”

She tried to step back, but quick as a rattler’s strike, his hand gripped her neck tightly, mouth a tight line. “You belong to me.” His lips curled into a cruel smile. “Your cowboy is good as dead.”

Her heart raced like a thousand stampeding Longhorns, but she kept her voice steady. “I belong to no one.”

His smile wasn’t the least bit jovial. “You know what the best part of taming a wild, spirited mustang is?” He didn’t wait for a reply. “It’s breaking her down till she knows who’s boss.” He licked his lips, stared at her bosom. “And I will break you, Emma. Make no mistake.”

His grip loosened and she slapped his hand way, stepping back. “Get out.”

He picked up his bowler off the corner cabinet and placed it on his head. “A lot of things are about to change around here.” He pulled a cigar from his pocket. “Rafe isn’t long for this world. You have to marry before he dies or your uncle gets this place.” He stared at her, his eyes cold and calculating. “I aim to have you…and this ranch before that happens.”

He struck a match to his cigar and sauntered out the door.

Her knees refused to hold her any longer and she sank to her chair. “Oh my, God.”