Cowboy Up. Vicki Thompson Lewis
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Although Emma might be the feminine version of the name Emmett, Emily was darned close. “She married you without stopping to think that she finds horses and dogs exceedingly smelly.”
Emmett laughed. “And she’s right, they are. But I happen to love that about them.”
“Believe it or not, I kind of do, too.”
He thumbed back his hat to look at her. “I had a feeling you did.”
“All along I’ve pretended that taking barn tours and riding was a drag, but the truth is, I’ve always looked forward to being around the animals.”
“You’d better not let your mother hear you say that.”
“I know. I suppose I thought it would be disloyal to her if I said I liked them.” She gazed at him for several seconds. All her life she’d been told that ranching was nothing but dust, horse poop and endless drudgery. Because of that she’d told herself her visits were only an obligation to maintain a connection with her father.
She’d let three years go by since the last time, and she might not have made the trip this summer except that her father was turning sixty. To her surprise, she was really glad to be here. And she’d finally admitted to her dad that barns and horses appealed to her.
In fact, she had the urge to spend more time hanging out at the barn and getting to know the horses. Of course, that could have something to do with Clay Whitaker. Clearly if she wanted to see more of Clay she’d need to become involved with the animals he tended.
She turned toward her father. “Do you think we could take a ride this afternoon? ”
“I might be able to work that out. I need to pick up some supplies today, and maybe we could stretch that into a little shopping trip in Jackson.” He brightened. “I could ask Pam to come along so you could meet her. You two could shop while I warm a bench outside.”
“That sounds great, Dad.” Actually, it didn’t. He’d told her last night about Pam Mulholland, who owned the Bunk & Grub, a bed-and-breakfast inn down the road. It seemed her father had a girlfriend, and Emily wasn’t sure how she felt about that. “But I meant a horseback ride.”
“Oh. I’m afraid that’s not in the cards for today, sweetheart. I really do have to run several errands and I’m not sure how long they’ll take. Sure you don’t want to come along?”
She couldn’t blame him for thinking she’d love to go shopping. Three years ago she’d been all about buying stuff, partly because she’d known it would please her mother if she came back with clothes. “It’s funny, but now that I’m here, I feel like staying put,” she said. “Maybe I’ll just take a walk around the ranch this afternoon.” And see what Clay’s up to.
“A walk?”
She smiled at his puzzled expression. “I know. Cowboys don’t walk, but I do.”
Emmett looked down at her feet. “Then you’ll need to put something on besides those sandals.”
“I packed the boots and jeans I bought when we went shopping in Jackson last time I visited.”
“You still have those?”
“They’re like new. I felt like a fake wearing them in Santa Barbara. I’ll probably feel like a fake wearing them here, but I want to give it a shot.”
“Okay.” He gave her a look that was pure protective dad. “Promise me you won’t try to go riding by yourself.”
“I promise.” Years ago she would have resented the implication that she couldn’t handle riding alone. But she hadn’t been on a horse in three years, and she was old enough now to appreciate his warning as a gesture of love. “I know my limits. I can ride a surfboard like nobody’s business, but I don’t have much practice on a horse.” She paused. “Maybe one of the hands could go with me.”
“That’s an idea. I could send Watkins.”
She remembered Watkins as a shortish, older guy with a handlebar mustache. Nice enough, but not the person she had in mind.
“No, not Watkins,” her dad said. “He has a toothache and would spend the whole ride talking about it.”
“Then how about—”
“I could send Jeb, but…I don’t know. That boy gets distracted by a pretty face. I’d ask one of the Chances, but Nick’s scheduled to worm our little herd of cattle, Gabe’s off at a cutting horse event, and Jack’s taking Josie to the obstetrician today.” He glanced at Emily. “I did tell you that Josie’s pregnant?”
“Yes. You gave me the rundown last night, and I think I have it all straight. Josie and Jack are expecting their first. Gabe and Morgan have little Sarah Bianca, who’s one month old. Nick and Dominique are waiting a bit before having kids.”
“Right. Okay, let me think. There must be somebody I would trust to take you.”
She did her level best to sound indifferent. “I don’t suppose Clay could go.”
“Hey, that’s a great idea! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. I’ll ask him.”
Bingo.
2
FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE he’d come to live at the Last Chance, Clay dreaded lunch hour. Years ago, before Clay had come to the ranch, Archie had begun a tradition of gathering everyone in the main house at midday so that news could be exchanged and plans made. In fact, when the east wing had been added, Sarah had suggested creating a large lunchroom because the family dining room had become too crowded.
The new space held four round tables that each sat eight, and windows on the north and east provided light and spectacular mountain views. Hands ate in the bunkhouse for breakfast and dinner, rotating the cooking chores among themselves, but they considered lunch a treat, both for the setting and the food. Sarah insisted on tablecloths and cloth napkins because she believed in adding a little class. The guys tolerated that because Mary Lou Simms, the family’s cook, always put on a mouthwatering spread.
Mary Lou’s cooking was one of the many things Clay had missed while he was in Cheyenne going to school. Today’s menu featured fried chicken, potato salad, corn on the cob and biscuits, all served family style. The heaping platters and bowls coming out of the kitchen smelled as good as they looked, and normally Clay would have been licking his chops.
Instead, he was on Emily Alert. She’d be here, sure as the world, and he wanted to stay as far away from her as possible. He hesitated just inside the doorway and scanned the room, which was already filling up.
“Just the man I want to talk to.”
He recognized Emmett’s deep voice as the foreman gripped his shoulder from behind. Clay turned, knowing that Emmett wouldn’t be walking into the lunchroom alone. As expected, Emily stood beside him, and to Clay’s surprise, she seemed unsure of herself.
Even more surprising was her outfit. She still wore the scoop-necked T-shirt with BEBÉ splashed across the front, but she’d traded the shorts for a pair of jeans that looked as if they’d never seen the light of day, and tooled boots with nary a scuff mark on them. Clay found it hard to believe that she’d decided to dress like the locals so she could fit in better, but that’s exactly what her change of clothes appeared to suggest.
“Let’s find us a place to sit,” Emmett said.
Clay stifled a groan. Trapped. He’d considered skipping lunch completely, but he was starving and he hadn’t come up with a decent excuse for staying away. Traditions had taken on new significance since Jonathan’s death, and the hands made every effort to be there at noon each weekday.
Nick and his wife, Dominique, a tall woman with her glossy brown hair cut short, sat at a table with Sarah. Emmett ushered Emily in that direction, and Clay had no choice but to follow.
Nick