Alex tried to imagine the boutique through Emily’s eyes. It was no good. He was still struggling with the geisha girls.
She disappeared behind four buckets of paint. “Stay there…” She opened her laptop and walked toward him. “I used the mood board pictures and built a 3D image of the boutique.”
“You did this?” Alex couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was no wonder Emily wanted to be involved in every decision. The boutique looked incredible. Even the smallest of details had been thought through and added something special to the overall design.
“Look at the switch plates.”
She zoomed in on a wall and Alex smiled. Last week, they’d ordered the hardware for the light switches. He couldn’t understand why she didn’t want the white plastic switch plates that were on sale. She’d fought hard for the antique gold option at four times the price. Now he understood.
“You’d make a good designer.”
The smile on Emily’s face was pure energy and light wrapped in a five-foot-three body. “I guess I chose the right career then.”
“Why didn’t you show me your ideas sooner?”
“You were too busy telling me what you were going to do. I don’t mind what insulation you use in the ceiling or what gets soot off tin ceilings. But I do care about what color you paint the trim and the type of varnish you’d like to use on the floorboards. We need to work together.”
Alex swallowed the guilt that stumbled up from somewhere deep inside him. For most of his life, he’d worked on his own. He’d been responsible to no one but the next bull lined up waiting to throw him.
His life revolved around rodeo schedules and sponsored appearances. Everything he’d done, said, or thought was focused on being the best bull rider in the country. Only now he couldn’t rely on bull riding to make him feel good about himself. Without the one thing he lived for, he had nothing.
“Alex? Do you want to work together?”
He stared at the computer screen, then back at the building. Emily had landed in his life like a force four hurricane, twisting him into someone that didn’t look anything like what he’d been.
The laptop lid snapped close. “If you don’t want to work with me, that’s fine. I’ll find the supplies I need online. As long as you paint the building the colors on my list I can work around most other things.”
Emily threw her green scarf beside the paint tray and picked up her sneakers. “Let me know when the painters have finished.” She walked barefoot across the drop cloths and didn’t look back.
“Where are you going?” He didn’t care if he sounded annoyed. Emily couldn’t walk out of the building. If she did, he’d be lucky to see her again.
“I’m leaving.”
“No, you’re not.”
Emily turned around and glared at him.
He didn’t move. “If we’re going to work together we need some ground rules. How about you tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”
Emily’s glare turned into a frown. “You told me the other day that I’m going to bankrupt you.”
Alex felt heat sting his face. “I’m an idiot. I’ll follow your design ideas if you give me time to work out what you want. I’m not used to being told what to do all the time.”
Emily took a small step toward him and stopped. “Am I that bad?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Only the times I’m listening.”
“Are you listening now?” Emily put her laptop down and walked across the room.
“Hard not to with you moving toward me like that. A man could get the wrong impression about his business relationship when you wiggle your hips.”
Emily looked down at her hips. “I do not wiggle. And even if I did, I don’t know how you can tell. My old paint shirt nearly hits me in the knees.”
“Guess I’ve got a good imagination, too.”
“Or you’re seriously deluded,” she muttered. “Here’s to new rules.”
Alex shook the hand she stuck out in front of her. “And a new friendship.”
CHAPTER SIX
“I look ridiculous.” Emily turned in front of the mirror, staring at her bright yellow reflection.
“Nonsense. You look cute,” Nicky said. “Stop fidgeting with the feathers on your wings or you’re going to end up bald for the Cinderella play.”
Emily gave the feathers a final tweak before turning toward a very pregnant woman laughing in the classroom doorway. “Are you sure you didn’t plan your pregnancy so you could get out of wearing this outfit?”
Gracie patted her tummy, grinning at Emily as she walked across the room. “I couldn’t have timed it better if I’d tried. At least you didn’t get the pumpkin costume.”
“No,” Nicky muttered from inside a giant orange frame. Her head popped out the top. “That would be me.” She blew loose strands of hair off her face, frowning at her round body. “Just be thankful the chicken costume leaves your arms free. If I have to scratch my nose, I’m in trouble.”
Emily reached for a hat with a brown stem sticking out of the top. She flicked the elastic under Nicky’s chin and stood back to admire the outfit. “Perfect! Any fairy godmother would be pleased to see a pumpkin of such generous proportions.”
“Are you saying I’m fat?”
“No.” Emily laughed. “I’m saying you’re special.”
“Five minutes everyone,” boomed a voice from the hallway. A chorus of high pitched squeals filled the corridor as children rushed to stand in line behind the principal.
Emily blew a stray chicken feather away from her face. “I hope we raise a lot of money for Kaylee’s transplant.”
Kaylee Jennings was eight-years-old and had been born with a rare immune deficiency disorder. Her only chance of survival was a bone marrow transplant. Not only did her parents have to raise enough money to cover the cost of the treatment, but they were desperately searching for a donor.
Gracie pinned a gray tail on a little boys trousers. “I saw her mom the other day. Kaylee had to go into the hospital over the weekend.”
Nicky glanced at the chain of children standing in the corridor. “Is she okay?”
“She’s at home now, but they don’t know how much longer they can wait for a transplant. I’ll go and see if the kids are okay. Do you need anything else?”
“A mask would be good,” Emily muttered. “At least then mom and dad wouldn’t recognize me.”
“Your parents are the least of your worries.” Gracie laughed. “Trent told me that Cody bought a ticket.”
“You’re joking?”
Gracie shook her head. “Nope. But don’t worry – he promised not to plaster our photos over Facebook if I make apple strudel.”
Emily shook her head and another feather drifted to the floor. “He’s got a soft spot for anything involving food.”
“Don’t they all.” Gracie turned toward the corridor. “Duty calls. See you later.”
Emily followed Gracie, ducking her head as she passed under the door frame. The three foot high feathers on her head were a bit over the top, but Gracie had insisted they added a touch of glamor to the costume. “I still don’t understand why there’s a chicken in Cinderella. Rats and mice make sense. Where does the chicken fit in?”
Nicky stopped in the middle of the doorway, adjusted her pumpkin body, then popped out the other side. “I’ve got no idea, but you have to admit that it’s fun. Where else could you dress up as a monster chicken and sing on stage with forty kids.” She moved out of the way as two little girls raced down the hallway, their costumes flapping behind them. “Besides, I’m not the only one with a fan club. A little birdy told me that Alex bought a ticket as well.”
Emily tripped over her size twenty chicken feet. “You didn’t tell him I’m in the play, did you?”
“I might have mentioned something about tonight.” Nicky sidestepped away from twelve dancing princesses. “We’re going to have a little pumpkin to chicken talk later on. The man is seriously single, drop dead
gorgeous in a rough and tumble kind of way, and looks good in a tool belt. What are you waiting for?”
Emily ignored her pounding heart. “I’m not making the same mistake I made two years ago. Anyway, he’s my business partner. It’s just not…”
“Right? Honey, you’ve fallen head over heels in love with him before. Why not give him another chance.”
A man in a bright red waistcoat and black coachman’s hat walked down the corridor. He would have looked almost normal except for the big droopy mustache stuck to his face. “I need all animals and vegetables on stage in ten minutes. Jackson Rooney, that means you, too.” He tipped his hat and smiled. “Ladies, your places please.”
Nicky waddled down the corridor behind half of Room Four from Bozeman Elementary School. “I hope everyone appreciates the artistic talent it takes to become a pumpkin.”
Emily laughed at the human-sized vegetable garden in front of her. “As long as no one decides to make chicken and vegetable soup, we’ll be okay.”
***
“I’m impressed,” Cody said. “You didn’t fall flat on your face once.”
Emily flapped her wings at his chest. “I’ve been practicing. It’s not easy dancing with paddles on your feet.”
“Or a body the size of a balloon,” Nicky added. “I only managed to bump into two mice before I turned into Cinderella’s coach.”
Christopher pulled his mom’s hair and grinned.
“Mommy and Aunt Emily are famous,” she whispered to her baby son, “as long as daddy remembered to push play on the camera.”
Sam frowned at the digital recorder in his hands. “I had to beat thirty parents to the best seat in the hall. I don’t think they’re going to forgive me for sitting in the front row.”
“Especially when it was your wife you were filming and not Christopher,” Cody scoffed. “There’s got to be a rule somewhere that says adoring husbands have to sit behind everyone else.”
“Not in my book,” Sam said. “Especially when my wife makes such a pretty pumpkin.” Nicky blushed and Sam pulled her close.
“All of this lovey-dovey stuff is too much for my chicken heart,” Emily said to her family. “I’m going to get changed and meet Gracie for a glass of juice.”
Alex tapped her on the shoulder. “Not so fast, Chicken Licken. A little girl wants to say hello.”
Emily looked at where he was pointing and smiled. “You made it.” She walked over to Kaylee and gave her a hug. “Gracie said you’ve been in the hospital?”
Kaylee nodded and a sweet smile filled her face. “Doctor T said I could come home for the play. I saw you do your chicken dance. It was really cool.”
Emily knelt on the floor, smiling at her little fan. “Well, thank you. Do you want to know a secret?”
Kaylee leaned forward. “Daddy said it’s not good to keep secrets. But if you whisper it in my ear I promise not to tell anyone.”
“This is a good secret, the kind you can share with the world. Do you know how I learned my chicken moves?”
Kaylee shook her head.
“From you.” Kaylee’s mouth dropped open. “I watched the play you were in last year and copied your birdie dance. My dancing was good because of you. How great is that?”
“Pretty great,” Kaylee said. Her gaze darted to a feather that had fallen out of Emily’s tail.
Over thirty feather dusters had been plucked and dyed bright yellow to create the Vegas Showgirl versus backyard chicken outfit Emily was wearing. After losing half of her feathers on the dance floor, there weren’t many left.
“Here you go…” Emily picked up the feather. “This is for you.”
Kaylee reached out and held the feather gently in her hands. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie. I’ve got to get changed, so hold onto the feather and I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.” Kaylee looked over her shoulder and waved to her mom.
An arm appeared in front of Emily. “Do you need a hand getting up?”
Emily smiled at Alex as he hauled her upright. “How did you guess?”
“Wasn’t hard. Besides, I’ve got to look after my number one interior designer. We’re at a delicate stage in negotiations.”
“I take it you still don’t want to paint the upstairs trim, Peppermint?”
“That’s a fancy way of saying green. And no, I can’t say it’s one of my favorite colors.”
“And what did we agree on with the boutique’s design elements?”
Alex sighed. “That you’d get what you want.”
“Within reason, and Peppermint trim is definitely within reason. Especially when your alternative is cream.”
“You say that like it’s a dirty word.”
Cody’s head shot up. “What’s that about dirty words?”
Emily shook her head. “I’m leaving before Cody gets too excited.” She turned around and bumped into a woman standing behind her. “Oops, sorry.”
“That’s okay,” a laughing Irish voice said. “You look amazing.”
Emily blinked. With short, jet black hair and skin as pale as a winter moon, the stranger took Emily’s breath away. “You’re not from Montana.”
“No, but my nan had connections to America that went beyond blood ties. I’m Molly O’Donaghue.”
“Becky’s sister?” If Molly had been Emily’s height she could have been a woodland fairy sent to bewitch them all. But her long legs and wide grin set her apart for completely different reasons.
“The one and the same.” She looked at Alex and smiled.
“Alex Green, ma’am. The chicken you bumped into is Emily Scotson.”
Emily took exception to being called a chicken, until she looked down at her yellow costume. For once in her life she wished she had legs that were a few inches longer. Or hair that didn’t frizz when it rained. Anything to distract Alex and Cody from ogling the Irish beauty in front of them.
“Hi, Emily.” Molly didn’t seem to notice the attention she was attracting. “I was going to call you tomorrow.”
“You were?” Cody sounded hopeful. Maybe too hopeful considering his ex-girlfriend was standing on the other side of the room. “I’m Cody. Emily’s brother.”
“Nice to meet you, Cody.”
Emily couldn’t believe her brother. He was practically drooling on the spot. It would have been embarrassing if she hadn’t caught the grin on Alex’s face. He was looking between her and Molly, comparing apples with pears. Chicken-sized pears with short legs and ruffled feathers.
Molly sent another dazzling smile Emily’s way. “Becky told me you were interested in having me photograph your autumn collection.”
Even though she was having a hard time overlooking Molly’s accent and long legs, Emily felt herself puff up with pride. An autumn collection. It sounded so professional, so Giorgio Armani and Dolce & Gabbana. So much of what she’d always dreamed about.
“I’d like to work with you.” Emily lifted her chicken feather hat off her head and tucked it under her arm. “I saw your website and you take amazing photographs.”
“Thank you. Becky emailed me a few photos of clothes you’ve designed. I loved them.”
Okay, so maybe Emily had been a little hasty on the green-eyed monster scale. Molly obviously had great taste. If she was willing to work with an unknown, highly motivated designer, then Emily was her woman.
Cody cleared his throat. “Now that you’ve got that settled, I wonder if you’d like to sample some Montana hospitality while you’re here, Molly?”
Emily hoped her brother was talking about food and not himself. “Haven’t you got something else you need to do?”
“You’re right.” Cody looked at the camera slung over Molly’s shoulder. “They’re about to present Kaylee’s family with the money we raised tonight. Do you want me to introduce you to her parents?”
“That would be grand,” Molly said. “My sister’s on Kaylee’s fundraising committee. I’ve been taking lots of photo
s so that people can buy copies from a website we’ve started.”
Cody looked suitably impressed. He linked Molly’s arm through his and wandered across the room, ignoring everyone except the stunning brunette walking beside him.
“I think Cody’s in love,” Alex said.
“Cody’s always in love,” Emily sighed. “I just hope he remembers that Molly’s only here for a vacation. A bit like you.”
Alex frowned. “What do you mean? My ranch is about half an hour from here, and it isn’t going anywhere.”
“But you will. As soon as your leg’s healed you’ll be traveling around the country from one rodeo to the next. I bet you’ve already got a schedule of events stuck in your brain.”
“I’ve got to get a clearance from Doc Johnson before I go anywhere.”
“When do you see him again?”
Alex glanced across the room. “The presentation’s about to start.”
Emily stared at his stubborn jaw. She picked another feather off the floor, giving him time to sort out whatever was running around his brain. When he still didn’t answer, she put her chicken hat on top of her head. “I’ll see you later. I need to go before I lose more feathers.”
She turned toward the back of the room and left Alex staring into space.
***
Alex’s dad leaned over the rail on the bucking chute, checking the bull rope wrapped around his student’s hand. Alex couldn’t hear what his dad was saying, but the low murmur of his voice was strong and steady. His dad had a way of making people feel at ease. Of giving them the extra push they needed to take them beyond what they thought was possible.
Most of the other students had headed inside, tired and bruised after being thrown more than once in the arena. The kid sitting in the chute would have been no more than sixteen years old. He’d had a rough time with the last bull and had come back for a final ride before calling it a night.
Forever Cowboy (Montana Brides, Book 5) Page 8
