Cowboy Up. Vicki Lewis Thompson

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Cowboy Up - Vicki Lewis Thompson


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sighed. “You’re not an old fool, but it would be only natural if you—”

      “Don’t worry. I made that mistake with her mother. I knew California was where Jeri wanted to be, but I thought I could convince her otherwise.”

      Something in Emmett’s expression told Clay that those wounds had never healed. That might be another reason Emmett hadn’t taken many trips to see Emily. He would have had to see his ex, too, which would have been painful if he was still in love with her.

      Clay thought he might be and wondered if Pam Mulholland had any inkling of that. The two had been dating for more than a year without making a commitment. Emmett said that was because Pam had way more money than he did, but that might not be the whole story.

      By now the dining room was empty except for Clay, Emmett and Watson, who had recently started helping Mary Lou clear the dishes in exchange for extra dessert.

      Mary Lou bustled over, her gray hair in disarray as usual and her cheeks pink from working in a warm kitchen. “Did you two get enough to eat? I’m about to serve Watson an extra piece of cherry pie, and you’re welcome to have a second serving if you want one.”

      Emmett patted his flat stomach. “Thanks, Mary Lou, but I couldn’t fit in another bite. You outdid yourself again.”

      “Thanks, Emmett.” She beamed at the praise. “I do love my job. How about you, Clay? More pie?”

      “It’s tempting, but no thanks.”

      “All right, then.” She began stacking the dessert plates from each place setting at their table.

      Watkins came out of the kitchen and headed toward them. “Hey, quit doing my job, Lou-Lou.”

      Her cheeks turned a shade pinker. “Then speed it up there, Watkins. We need to get this place clean.”

      “We will, we will. Leave those for me and go cut me a nice big piece of your delicious pie. And put some ice cream on top.” The stocky cowboy winked at her as he reached for the dishes in her hand.

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake. If you insist.” She handed over the dishes and walked back toward the kitchen.

      Instead of stacking plates, Watkins gazed after her. “What a woman.”

      Clay watched in fascination. He’d thought something might be going on between Watkins and Mary Lou, but he hadn’t been sure until now. “Are you sweet on her, Watkins?”

      Watkins nodded, which made his handlebar mustache twitch. “Have been for years. Once I tried to get her to marry me, but she claims she’s never marrying anybody. So I backed off, but lately…let’s just say I might be making progress.”

      Emmett clapped him on the shoulder. “Clearing dishes and complimenting her on her cooking just might get the job done. Not that I’m an expert on women. What’s your opinion, Clay?”

      Clay held up both hands. “Don’t ask me about women. They’re a mystery.”

      “Ain’t that the truth.” Watkins glanced toward the kitchen. “Well, my pie should be about ready. Catch you later, boys.”

      After he left, Clay looked at Emmett and raised his eyebrows.

      Emmett shrugged. “He’s been carrying a torch for a long time,” he said in a low voice. “You may not believe it, but she used to be a real babe.”

      “You know, I can believe it. And I’ve always loved her spunky attitude. I—” He stopped talking when Emily walked into the room. Talk about a babe. The snug T-shirt and form-fitting jeans would make any guy take a second look, but Clay had a thing about women in cowboy hats.

      This one was tan straw, a warm-weather alternative to felt. The brim curved downward in both the front and back so it partly shielded her eyes in a sexy, flirty way. The more Emily adopted a Western style, the more Clay liked what he saw.

      “How’s this?” she asked as she came toward them.

      Clay dialed back his response several notches. “It’ll do.”

      “Good choice.” Emmett’s weathered face glowed with pride. “Fits nice.”

      Sarah appeared and crossed to where they were standing. “Looks good, huh? Fortunately we wear the same size.”

      “Sarah said I could keep this,” Emily said. “But that seems silly if I’m only going to wear it while I’m here.”

      Some of the glow faded from Emmett’s expression, and Clay ached for him.

      No matter what Emmett had said about not expecting too much, it was obvious he’d allowed himself to hope that Emily wouldn’t abandon her newfound interest in the ranch once she left. He nodded. “Guess so. Wouldn’t want to let a good hat end up in the back of a closet. Well, I’d better get going if I intend to finish up those errands in town.”

      “Oh, that reminds me.” Sarah pulled a slip of paper from the pocket of her jeans. “Here are a few more things I need while you’re there. Also, Pam called and asked if you’d stop by the Bunk & Grub, and I’d really appreciate it if you’d look in on my mother and make sure she remembers about the party tomorrow night.”

      Emmett looked over the list. Then he trained that piercing blue gaze on Sarah in a manner Clay knew well. It meant that Emmett suspected something was going on and he intended to find out what. “You wouldn’t be stacking up the errands to keep me away from the ranch all afternoon because of some scheme or other, would you now, Sarah?”

      “Goodness, no! Why would I do a thing like that?”

      “Because I’ve known you for thirty-some years, and you look like you’re up to something. I’m warning you, if I come back from town and a passel of folks jump out of the bushes yelling ‘surprise,’ I will be one unhappy cowhand.”

      Sarah patted his arm. “I promise that won’t be happening. Besides, your birthday’s tomorrow.”

      “Which means the only way you could surprise me is to stage the party tonight. I wouldn’t put it past you, either.”

      “You are so suspicious.” Sarah gave him a big smile. “You will love your birthday party, Emmett, and it will take place on your birthday, not the night before.”

      “Time will tell if you’re putting me on or not. Anyway, I’ll see you folks later, and there had better not be any shenanigans taking place while I’m gone.” Settling his hat on his head, he left the dining room.

      Sarah studied the beamed ceiling of the dining room and twiddled her thumbs as his footsteps receded down the hall leading to the living room. Only after the front door had opened and closed did she drop her gaze to Clay’s and burst out laughing. “He’s such a baby when it comes to birthdays.”

      “He knows something’s going on,” Clay said.

      “What is it?” Emily looked eagerly from one to the other. “Are you going to surprise him tonight?”

      “No.” Sarah glanced over at the door to the dining room as if worried that Emmett might have crept back down the hall. “Emily, go make sure he’s left.”

      “Be right back.” Emily hurried out of the dining room.

      Sarah moved closer to Clay. “He really will love this cookout. But if he knew about it in advance, he’d pitch a fit because we’re going to extra trouble on his behalf.”

      “You’re right, he would.”

      “But it’s going to be so perfect. I realized this morning that you’ll need to dig two fire pits, one for the bonfire and one we can let burn down to coals for grilling the steaks.”

      “I can do that.”

      Emily came back in, her face pink with excitement. “He’s really gone. So what are you planning?”

      “Clay


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