Shocked by the concerns that kept her from sleeping, he wasn’t sure what to make of her insight or what appeared to be genuine interest in the town he loved.
Hud offered her a studying glance. There was more to Emery Brighton than a spoiled rich girl. Far, far more.
“Maybe you can figure out a way to make a difference. We’ve all tried, but nothing seems to help. If there was just some way to get more people to come into Summer Creek before they headed up to the lake or into the mountains for camping, it would make such a difference.”
“I’ll give it some thought.” Emery smiled warmly in his direction.
Much too warm for his sleep-addled brain to handle at this hour of the morning. Rather than give in to the temptation to close the distance between them and see if her lips tasted as luscious as he imagined, he took a step toward the mudroom. “Are you sure you’re doing okay, Emery?”
“I’m a little sore, but I’ll be fine. I didn’t think I’d ever get clean last night.”
Hud grinned. “You looked like you’d taken a mud bath. Don’t you pay big money for stuff like that at those fancy spas in the city?”
She nodded. “Possibly, but the mud isn’t frigid and full of gross things, and it definitely doesn’t smell like something died in it.”
He gave her another studying glance. “You sure we don’t need to take you to the clinic?”
“I’m fine, Hud, really, but thank you for asking.” She yawned and stretched her arms over her head.
Hud wondered who’d cranked up the heat in the house because it suddenly felt stifling. Before he did something he’d regret, something completely irrational, he marched into the mudroom, grabbed his coat and gloves, and made a hasty retreat out to start his morning chores. He was halfway to the barn before he realized he’d forgotten his cookies on the counter.
Mid-morning, Hud moved around crates of junk his grandmother referred to as treasures in their storage shed. Finally, behind two old steamer trunks, he found what he’d been searching for. He grabbed the handlebars of his old bicycle and lifted it over his head, working his way around stacks of storage tubs, boxes, and discarded pieces of furniture. The family had been piling anything they didn’t need or weren’t currently using in the shed for a hundred years.
Contingent on getting his grandmother to agree to let some things go, he could set Emery to the task of cleaning it out. Even if they didn’t get rid of anything, he could at least have her organize the disaster.
He made it out of the shed and set the bike down, giving it a thorough perusal. It needed new tires and a chain, and a paint job wouldn’t hurt, but it was still usable. Emery didn’t have a vehicle, and they were all getting too busy to run into town twice a day when she was doing community service work to pick her up and drop her off. The bicycle would provide a safe mode of transportation. Even if she were the slowest pedaling human on earth, it should still take her less than an hour to ride into town. He used to be able to ride the bike to the grocery store in seven minutes flat.
A part of him wondered how fast he could do it now, but he didn’t have time for such nonsense. Thankfully, the cows were finished calving, but before he could move them out to the summer pasture, he needed to hold a branding. The neighbors would help out with that chore in a few weeks, since they all took turns assisting each other. They’d come do his cattle, then help Jossy the following day.
He planned to attend a branding this Saturday at the Rockin’ R Ranch, located to the south of Summer Creek on the other side of the highway heading toward Burns. He looked forward to seeing Ty and Lexi Lewis, owners of the ranch. They had a cute baby boy who wasn’t quite a year old, and Ty was an incredible mechanic. Hud had called him a few times with repair questions. It would be great to see them, and the others at the branding he rarely had a chance to connect with. He made a mental note to remind Grammy he’d be gone all day.
He’d just carried the bicycle into the shop when he heard the phone ringing. The old landline connected to the house, shop, and barn. There was even a phone on the wall in the empty bunkhouse. Come to think of it, he ought to have Emery clean the bunkhouse, too. He generally hired a few high school or college kids to help around the ranch during the summer months when there was more work than he could handle alone, and it was always an added incentive to have a place for them to stay.
Quickly leaning the bicycle against the workbench, he grabbed the phone as it rang a third time, wondering why his grandmother didn’t answer it. As he lifted it, he recalled she’d gone to take a meal to an elderly couple she’d heard had been feeling under the weather.
“Summer Creek Ranch,” Hud answered.
“We need the volunteer fire department right now, Hud. Big fire over at the Mayfield place,” the mayor said, then disconnected the call.
As one of the volunteer firemen, Hud knew every person the fire department could round up would be needed. He ran out of the shop toward the house and flung open the back door with such force, it swung inward and banged against the wall, startling Emery. A crash echoed from the kitchen, and she swiveled around with a shriek.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, watching as he kicked off his boots and grabbed a pair of heat-resistant insulated rubber boots with a thick lug sole.
He stamped his feet into the boots. “There’s a fire on the other side of town. I need to go help. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
While he checked his pockets to make sure he had his wallet and cell phone, Emery scribbled something on the notepad by the phone, snagged her jacket and purse from a hook by the door, and followed him outside.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, hustling toward his pickup.
She jogged to keep up with him. “With you.”
“No. Absolutely not, Emery.” He opened the pickup door and slid onto the seat. “Not only is it dangerous, I won’t be able to keep an eye on you.”
She ignored him and climbed into the pickup. “I’ll stay out of the way, but I want to go. Please?”
He didn’t have time to argue with her, so he backed around and sped toward town. When they reached the fire hall, a dozen men were already there, pulling on turn-out gear and grabbing their helmets. They always kept the fire engine ready to go, so within minutes, they were able to leave.
As he jumped onto the fire engine, Hud tossed his pickup keys to Emery. “You can follow us but stay out of the way.”
The farm was a few miles south of town, but the smoke billowing into the sky would have made the location plain to anyone who didn’t know where it was located.
The fire engine’s siren blared as they raced to the Mayfield place. When they arrived, John and his wife, Nancy, were both holding hoses at the back of the barn trying to keep the fire from reaching any of their buildings.
It took almost two hours to completely contain the blaze that had started when John was burning weeds, and the fire got away from him. Not surprisingly, most of the calls the fire department received were for similar situations.
Hot, thirsty, and tired, Hud removed his helmet, gloves, and coat. He wiped his sweaty face on the shoulder of his shirt, closed his eyes, and drew in a deep breath, inhaling the acrid scent of smoke and scorched weeds. His eyes burned, and his nostrils stung from the work he and his fellow firemen had undertaken, but at least they’d kept the fire from jumping off the Mayfield’s land.
Something cold brushed against his hand. Droplets of condensation soaked into his parched skin from the water bottle he now held.
“Drink,” a voice ordered.
He glugged down the refreshing water in a few swallows and opened his eyes. A second bottle appeared in his line of vision, and he accepted it. When it was empty, he took another deep breath and turned to thank the person delivering water bottles. Shocked, he discovered the bearer of the welcome water was Emery.
“Have you been here the whole time?” he asked as she moved to hand water to another volunteer.
“Not the who
le time. I stopped at the grocery store and got water and ice and a cooler to keep everything cold. I ran into Mrs. Kressley as I was leaving. She asked me to help her round up women from the church to make sandwiches. If you’re hungry, your grandmother and Mrs. Nelson just brought the food.” Emery pointed at the tailgate of his pickup that had been turned into a makeshift table. His grandmother, Margie McCall from the health clinic, and Barbara Miller from the real estate office handed out sandwiches and cookies along with bottles of electrolyte-laden drinks.
Hud wandered over to his pickup and accepted the beef-filled sandwich his grandmother set into his hand.
“You did good, honey,” Nell said, patting his cheek before she turned her attention back to passing out food.
Hud leaned against the side of his pickup and watched Emery interact with those who had gathered at the Mayfield’s place, which seemed to be half of the community. She smiled and passed out water bottles.
A blush colored her cheeks a rosy pink hue when Liam Lake, the town’s electrician, said something then laughed. Hud pushed away from the vehicle and took half a dozen steps in their direction before he realized his intention to put a stop to Liam’s conversation with her. Hud wanted to shield Emery from any comments about her past, anything that might chase away her smile. He stopped in his tracks and observed her grinning at Liam and the mayor. Apparently, her feelings hadn’t been hurt.
Annoyed by the way Emery flirted with Liam, he retreated to his pickup.
Contemplative, he finished eating a second sandwich in silence, wondering what it was about Emery that had gotten under his skin and frequently infiltrated his mind. He certainly didn’t want her there, didn’t want to find his thoughts continually wandering in her direction.
But they did.
Even though he still wished Emery off his land and out of his life as soon as humanly possible, he couldn’t help but hold her in high regard. She was incredibly smart. He marveled that she’d never appeared on a game show for all the random details and knowledge she kept in her undeniably pretty head.
In spite of her intelligence, it was painfully clear she’d been spoiled and pampered all her life. Hud had the distinct idea she’d never done anything for herself, and never had the need to put any common sense into practice. He was certain that was why she had found herself facing jail time or community service. For once, her family couldn’t or wouldn’t ease her out of the mess she’d made.
Given her circumstances, though, she’d adapted well. It hadn’t taken long for her to realize no one would wait on her, and the best way to get back to her old life was to forge ahead and do what was required of her.
His grandmother and sister certainly thought highly of her. Cricket wanted to be just like her. Judging from the way people were speaking with her as she passed out water bottles and smiles, she was about to gain many more admirers.
The thought of anyone turning Emery’s head made him irritated. When Jace Easton slid an arm around her shoulders in a friendly gesture as he accepted a water bottle, Hud felt his stomach knot with anxiety and his neck tighten with tension. He chose not to examine the reasons behind his reaction.
Not when he was counting the days until Emery left Summer Creek for good.
Chapter Twelve
A cloud of dust blew around Emery’s face, making her sneeze twice. She brushed at her nose with her gloved hand and sneezed three more times.
“Bless you,” Cricket said, as she skipped around waving a feather duster in the air, stirring up more dust.
“Thank you, Cricket.” Emery grinned at the energetic little girl and went back to cleaning the building Hud referred to as the bunkhouse. He said it hadn’t been used for a while. A thick layer of dust and enough spider webs to do any haunted house proud proved his statement to be not only true but also glaringly obvious.
Emery took down the curtains and hauled all the bedding inside the house to wash. The more she cleaned, the more she toyed with the idea of turning the space into a guest house. The reality of that happening was slim, but it would make a wonderful getaway for city-dwellers hoping to experience ranch life.
“It would be perfect for glamping,” she said as she took books off a shelf and wiped them clean, setting them on a counter she’d already scrubbed.
The main area of the bunkhouse was basically a large open room with a kitchen and dining table on one end and a living area on the other. A short hallway led to four bedrooms and two bathrooms. Each bedroom held at least two beds. The largest held six bunk beds. If she could talk Hud into getting rid of the smaller beds in the two larger rooms and putting in king-sized beds, he could rent the place out. There wasn’t anywhere for people to stay in town, at least that she’d seen, and she was certain that was a big part of the lack of tourism.
Head spinning with ideas, she hummed along to the radio Cricket had turned on earlier. It wasn’t until she found herself singing along to a country tune that she realized she’d heard enough country music since her exile to Summer Creek that she not only knew the words but liked the songs.
“Glamping, glamping, glamping,” Cricket sing-songed as she ran a feather duster over the rungs of a wooden chair. The child stopped mid-dust with her arm in the air, then turned to Emery with a serious expression that closely mimicked her father. “What’s glamping, Emery?”
“It’s like camping, except more fun and less … primitive.”
Cricket grinned. “I love camping! Daddy and Aunt Jossy took me camping last year. We got to roast marshmallows and hotdogs and fished in the creek. It was awesome!”
“It sounds like you had a wonderful time.” Emery cupped Cricket’s chin, then kissed her on the tip of her adorable little nose. “Do you do a lot of fun things with your dad and aunt?”
Cricket’s face scrunched up in thought, then she shook her head. “No. They’re both awful busy all the time and work too hard. Grammy says so.”
“Your grammy is a smart woman.”
“Yep. You are, too!” Cricket gave her a hug then twirled off to dust more chairs.
The growling of her stomach alerted Emery to the time nearing noon. She glanced at the clock and made a note to replace the dead battery in it since the time was the same as when she and Cricket ventured out to start cleaning.
“Come on, Cricket. Let’s go to the house and have some lunch.”
“I’m starving to death.” Cricket tossed the feather duster on the counter and raced out the door.
Emery grabbed a box full of photographs she’d found stuffed in the back of a cabinet and carried it with her to the house. After setting it on the counter in the mudroom, she washed her hands and face, then set out leftovers from dinner last night.
Hud left mid-morning to help Jossy repair a tractor, and Nell had gone to Bend to stock up on supplies. She’d invited Emery to go along, but she knew if she stayed home with Cricket, Nell could enjoy the trip without the little girl underfoot.
The idea of a morning spent at the ranch with just her and Cricket held a certain amount of appeal. She loved being around the energetic little girl. The child was bright and amusing, and always said something that made her smile.
Emery poured two glasses of milk, dished up plates of food, then set them on the counter.
Cricket ran into the room with her face freshly scrubbed and hands still dripping water from her haphazard attention to drying them. She climbed up on a barstool, draped a paper napkin across her lap, and looked expectantly at Emery.
“Would you like to say grace?” Emery asked, still not comfortable speaking her prayers aloud in front of others.
“Okay.” Cricket shrugged and held her hands beneath her chin, then recited a prayer Nell had taught her before adding, “And please bless Emery. I love her so much, and I’m so happy you sent her to be our friend. Amen.”
“Amen,” Emery whispered while tears stung her eyes. If someone had told her six weeks ago that she’d be covered in dust and cobwebs from cleaning out a bunkhouse, eatin
g leftover lasagna, and babysitting a vibrant child who constantly kept her on her toes, she would have called them insane. But Emery couldn’t recall when she’d felt as happy and at peace with her life as she had recently.
Life at Summer Creek Ranch agreed with her, even if it grew increasingly difficult to ignore Hud’s virile presence. The man was a heartthrob, even if it sounded cliché. Her friends would have laughed at her for thinking in terms of that description, but she couldn’t generate a better way to describe him. Besides, she no longer cared what her former friends thought or said.
Hud was a gorgeous man, one that women couldn’t help but notice, even if he paid little to no attention to the females who ogled him every time he set foot in town. Emery couldn’t help it if she was just as taken as the rest of them with the cowboy. Between those muscles and that expressive face, how was she supposed to pretend he was anything but outrageously handsome?
Regardless of her feelings, Hud acted as though she was a nuisance. At least he no longer glared at her like he wanted to boot her off the place. After the fire at the Mayfield’s place, he’d been almost affable.
Emery felt bad for the Mayfield family. They’d lost miles of fence to the fire and one equipment building, but thankfully they’d been able to get all the equipment out. She wished there were resources available to help people like the Mayfields. Although they had insurance, it wouldn’t cover all their expenses from the fire.
While she mulled over the lack of resources for so many things in Summer Creek, Cricket chatted about school, her pony, and the upcoming Easter holiday.
“What do you do to celebrate Easter?” Emery asked when Cricket took a drink of her milk.
“We color eggs and go to the park to hunt them. The Easter Bunny brings me a new dress and a basket of candy, and we go to church, and Grammy makes ham, and Aunt Jossy bites the ears off Daddy’s chocolate bunny.”
Emery grinned. “She does? What does he do?”
“Eats the tail off hers.” Cricket giggled. “But they don’t try to eat mine.”
Catching the Cowboy: A Small-Town Clean Romance (Summer Creek Book 1) Page 11
