Eamon

by Vivi Holt

  Hazel, seated beside her, exchanged a loving glance with Dalton, who laughed and leaned in to kiss her full on the lips.

  “What?” asked Emily, who had the distinct feeling she’d missed something.

  “It’s an inside joke, mac and cheese,” replied Dalton with a grin that deepened his already pronounced dimples.

  Hazel closed the distance between her and Dalton and laid her head against his shoulder. “The first night we met, I tried to show Dalton how independent and competent I was by making mac and cheese from a box.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. They were adorably disgusting. “Oh, that’s cute.”

  Hazel kissed her new husband gently on the lips, and Emily turned away with a grimace. Ugh. It was true, she wished she had what they did, but they were so sweet it was almost sickening. She stood and took another slug of wine. “Yes, well – you two are beautiful but revolting. I’m going to see if I can get a bowl of that banana pudding – it looks amazing.” She strode off, still sipping her wine.

  With a fresh bowl in hand, she scooped a large serving of pudding with a smile. She might not have a hunky man to make out with, but she did have dessert. She turned to head back to the table and spotted Hazel’s parents standing behind her and Dalton. The conversation looked uncomfortable. She knew about the tension between Hazel and her folks, having lived in the same dorm as Hazel while she was studying pre-med at the University of Georgia. She took a bite of pudding, watching the exchange. Hmmm … perhaps she should find another table.

  She swiveled in her new boots, lost her balance and stumbled sideways, holding her pudding high in one hand and the half-full glass of wine in the other, not wishing to spill either. Her eyes widened as she felt her feet go out from under her and she landed in someone’s lap.

  “Well, what a pleasant surprise,” said Eamon, his breath against her ear.

  Her eyes still wide from the fall and her mouth full of pudding, Emily turned to face him and swallowed. “Safe!” she cried, then burst into giggles. What was she doing, making a baseball reference? She knew nothing about baseball and she rarely joked. Her cheeks flamed.

  He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Impressive – you didn’t spill a drop.”

  She nodded, took another bite of pudding, then realized with dismay that she was still sitting in his lap. How drunk was she? “Oh, sorry.” She stood and swayed. “I think I’ve had a bit too much wine. I don’t usually drink, so I’m a bit of a lightweight, and there was champagne before the service and during the photos … well, you know. You were there.”

  “Yes, I was.” He studied her with a lazy grin, then stood and took her arm. “You okay?”

  She giggled again. “So chivalrous. I didn’t think you were – you seemed so … oh dear, I’m talking too much.”

  He frowned. “I seemed so …?”

  Her cheeks flushed a deeper red. “Um … well, you know. You’re confident.”

  “You mean arrogant.”

  Her eyes flew wide. “No, of course not, well, maybe. You just like the ladies … oh man, I don’t feel so good …”

  “So I’m arrogant and a player?” His eyes narrowed.

  He seemed to be purposely misunderstanding her. She was sure she hadn’t said anything like that. Had she? But her head was spinning and everything swayed. “I’m gonna go dance.” She leaned forward and wobbled across the uneven ground toward the dance floor.

  When she reached it, she set her wine and pudding down on an empty table and stepped up onto the raised surface. Hannah was there, dancing with Parker. The band was covering a Kenny Chesney song, “Everybody Wants to Go to Heaven,” and it blasted out across the ranch as the crowd on the dance floor writhed to the beat.

  Emily looked up and watched the stars twinkle overhead. It really was beautiful out here on Dalton’s ranch – and now Hazel would be living here too. That was hard for her to imagine – Hazel, an orchestral violinist, living on a horse ranch in south Georgia, married to a cowboy. She shook her head and fixed her eyes on the dancers surrounding her. Hannah smiled at her, her lavender gown shimmering in the dim lighting, and she began swaying along to the music with the rest of them.

  She felt her feet slip from beneath her again … but two strong hands closed around her waist, setting her right again. She spun around to face Eamon, a sparkle in his eyes. “Mind if I join you?”

  She shook her head and he lifted her hands one at a time around his neck. She didn’t resist, unable to break her gaze from his. His eyes were so blue they were almost irresistible. Her legs felt weak, and he pressed close against her, making her gasp. She tightened her grasp on him, letting her fingers comb through the hair at the nape of his neck.

  Then she felt her stomach lurch, and her eyes clenched shut. “What’s wrong?” asked Eamon.

  “My stomach … I feel sick.” She clutched her abdomen and wrinkled her nose.

  “Let’s go then,” he said. “Everything’s finished anyway. I’ll take you back to your room.” She was staying at the ranch for the night. In fact, Hazel had convinced her to stay for a few days after the wedding. She’d agreed, since she didn’t know when she’d get time off again – she expected to start her new permanent position at the Brigham as soon as she returned to Boston.

  Granted, since she still didn’t have anything in writing, so she could‘ve taken a longer vacation and gone to Florida, or even California or the Bahamas. But none of those places sounded inviting when traveling alone. In the past, she’d have asked Hazel to go with her, but now that was out, and even Jen had a boyfriend back in Atlanta – Chris something-or-other. She was the only one of the trio still flying solo.

  She nodded to Eamon, and he put an arm around her waist. As they walked, she leaned on him, grateful for the support. She wasn’t entirely sure she could’ve made it on her own. It couldn’t just be the wine – she’d only had three glasses. She was exhausted as well. Through years of studying and working, her entire focus had been on her career, and she hadn’t relaxed, really relaxed since … she couldn’t remember when. High school? Maybe not even then.

  They entered the ranch house and Eamon helped her down the long dark hallway, the music outside muted by the walls and drapery-covered windows. She stopped outside her bedroom and leaned against the door jamb, then turned to face Eamon with a grin. “Thank you, Mr. Williams. You’re quite the gentleman.”

  He raised an eyebrow and scratched his chin. “Will you be all right? Can I get you anything … maybe a glass of water?”

  “I’ve got water in my room, thanks.” He leaned closer and she caught her breath. He smelled of aftershave and barbecue sauce and a tremble ran through her body. “Eamon … I …”

  He leaned in and kissed her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. She trembled in his arms and closed her eyes. When he pulled away, she opened them and saw him rub his chin as he backed away. “I’m sorry, Emily. I shouldn’t have … I’m sorry.” He stumbled down the dark hallway and disappeared.

  She covered her face with her hands and sighed. What had just happened? She went inside her room, closed the door and leaned against it, the rise and fall of her chest the only movement in the room. Then she ran her fingertips gently over her still-tingling tips. She hadn’t expected that, not from him – or rather, she had, but not his courtliness earlier. What did it mean? Did it mean anything? Did he kiss every woman he was attracted to? Was he intoxicated too?

  Without switching on the overhead light, Emily felt her way across the room to the bed, kicked off her boots and lay down. Her entire body felt like lead. As her eyes drifted closed, the beat of the music outside reverberated through her tired brain. And when she slept, it was as though she might never wake.

  * * *

  Eamon Williams lifted a bale of hay onto his broad shoulders, carried it to the other side of the barn, dropped it onto the growing pile and brushed his hands together with a sigh. The cleanup from the wedding reception the night before was well underway, but the bale
s they’d used for seats were strewn all over the yard and around the outside of the barn.

  He scratched absently at the straw poking through his shirt into his skin and stood with his hands on his hips to survey the damage. Parker, Mom and Hazel’s folks were picking up trash and tossing it into bags. People from the equipment rental company, all in black, were folding up tents and slipping covers off chairs, stacking them into the back of a large white truck with “Penton Party Rentals” painted on the sides in sloping red lettering.

  Even with all that help, it would take all morning to tidy up the place before they could get to the regular work around the ranch. Dalton had left him in charge while he and Hazel were on their honeymoon in Destin, Florida. He’d seen the worry on Dalton’s face as he’d said his goodbyes, reminding Eamon and Parker about all that needed doing over the next two weeks, and Eamon didn’t intend to let his brother down. He wanted to show him he could be entrusted with the care of the ranch.

  He went to pick up another bale and carry it back to the barn. The straw scratched at his neck again, making it itch.

  His mind wandered back to the reception – the speeches, the dancing, the twinkle of stars in the black sky overhead. And that kiss. He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d kissed Hazel’s friend Emily from Boston. She’d barely said five words to him before last night, yet he’d found himself drawn to her. It was obvious she was smart and beautiful, but there was something else about her, an inner strength that intrigued him.

  Still, he had a girlfriend. Sure, he hadn’t seen Penny in months – she’d come to see him once since he’d moved to Georgia almost a year ago, and he’d only been back to Chattanooga twice – and three visits in a year wasn’t really enough to build a relationship on. But they were still officially involved. He’d intended to break things off before moving south. But he hadn’t, and couldn’t bring himself to do it over the phone. And now there was Emily Zhu, the mysterious surgeon from Boston …

  He took off his Stetson, ran a hand through his hair and set his hat back in place. Emily hadn’t shown her face yet this morning. He wondered if she still intended to stay at the ranch for a few days before returning home. If she did, perhaps he’d get a chance to talk to her about what’d happened. Though he wasn’t sure what to say.

  Eamon gathered a strand of twinkle lights in his hands, looped it around his arm, then climbed the ladder to the loft and hung them on a peg in the wall. They used the loft to store food for the livestock, tack and other bits and pieces. Hazel had asked him to put the decorations away there until she had a chance to better organize them.

  As he returned to the ladder, he heard a voice below. He squatted beside the ladder and stared over the edge of the loft. It was Emily – he could see her back. She was kneeling on the floor, murmuring to Lulu, the black cat who lived in the barn. Lulu circled her, tail raised as she rubbed against Emily’s legs. A line of kittens followed her, tumbling, playing and mewling as they went. Emily picked up one of the kittens, a gray one with white mittens, and held it to her chest, whispered in its ears and caressed its soft fur before setting it back on the ground.

  The soft sound of Emily’s laughter warmed Eamon’s heart. He cleared his throat with a soft cough.

  Emily spun to face him, her eyes wide. “Eamon. I didn’t see you there.” She stood and brushed the straw from her jeans.

  He turned and backed down the ladder. “They’re cute, aren’t they?” He walked over to Lulu, squatting beside her to scratch her head. The cat purred in response and rubbed against his leg.

  Emily chuckled. “And they know it.”

  He smiled. “You can have one if you like. We’ve got to get rid of them anyway – can’t have a dozen cats running around the place. They’ll eat us out of house and home.”

  Emily squatted beside him. “Me, own a cat? I can hardly take care of myself – I don’t think it would be wise for me to take on anything else. Anyway, my building manager wouldn’t be happy if I brought a pet into my apartment.” She stroked the gray kitten’s head, then picked up a black one and held it against her cheek. Her eyes narrowed and she smiled. “But they’re so beautiful, it’s very tempting.”

  Eamon sat down on the barn floor and set his hat in the straw beside him. He picked up a tabby kitten and held it in his lap. Lulu soon followed, stepping daintily onto his leg and letting her claws extend, puncturing his jeans – and his thigh. He frowned and scratched behind her ears. “Okay there, Lulu, pull your claws back in girl. Ouch.”

  Emily laughed. “Good girl, Lulu.” She reached out to pat the cat, but Eamon caught her hand and held it in his . His gaze met hers and a bolt of energy passed between them, making his heart pound.

  Emily broke the connection. She pulled her hand back and looked at the ground. “Don’t.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

  She frowned. “Because we barely know each other, and I’m leaving in a few days to go back to Boston.”

  He rubbed his chin, the stubble scratching his palm. “Okay.”

  She rose to her feet. “I’m sorry.”

  He stood as well and put his hat back on with a frown. “Forget it.”

  She lifted the black kitten and kissed its soft fur with a smile. “Goodbye, little one.”

  He took a quick breath. “I meant it – you should keep the kitten. It could use a good home.”

  “I’d love to.” She set the kitten down on the ground and watched it scamper off to join its brothers and sisters. They were playing with a rope that hung against the wall, the end of it trailing on the ground for little paws to bat. “But there’s just no way I can, living in an apartment like I do.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure glad I gave that up.” Eamon set his hands on his hips. It felt awkward standing there, pretending nothing had passed between them. But it had – he’d felt it. And he’d never felt anything like it before – not with Penny, not with anyone.

  Emily looked at him, her eyes guarded. “You lived in an apartment? I thought you were a cowboy through and through.”

  He chuckled. “Nope. I’m an accountant, actually.”

  She frowned, her brow creasing. “What? An accountant?”

  He nodded. “But I left it all behind to help Dalton out with the ranch. He needed me, and I needed a change, so here I am.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. She looked so beautiful standing there in the barn in her jeans and white T-shirt. A beam of sunlight caught her black hair, setting it alight with a golden glow. “How long do you think you’ll stick around for?” he continued, his heart in his throat.

  “Well, Hazel suggested I stay a few days, since I haven’t had any time off work in … well, I’m not sure how long. Years, I guess. I don’t have to be back in Boston until next week. I hope it’s okay if I stay a little while – I promise I’ll keep out of the way.” She pushed her hair behind her ears and squinted into the morning sunlight.

  He swallowed hard. “Yeah, of course – stay as long as you like. There’s plenty of room.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Well … I’d best get back to work.”

  “Can I help with anything?” She lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the glare.

  Eamon tipped his head to one side. “I’m sure there’s plenty to do. I think Hazel’s mom Anne is coordinating it all.”

  “Okay, I’ll ask her.” She half-smiled, turned and walked away.

  He watched her go, rubbed his eyes and groaned inwardly. He’d never felt so flustered around a woman in his life, and it only seemed to grow in intensity the more he got to know her. He was usually so smooth, so confident. What was wrong with him?

  Shaking his head, Eamon went to fetch another bale of hay. If Emily was staying at the ranch for three more days, he’d best get used to feeling out of his depth.

  Chapter 3

  Emily rocked the porch swing back and forth, her legs crossed at the ankles in front of her. She straightened them out, lifted one foot to tuck it beneath herself and
leaned against the back of the seat. The sun was setting behind the barn, and the colors that illuminated the sky made her heart ache.

  She’d been there two days and all the other guests had left the ranch. It was quiet now, with Eamon and Parker out working on something or other. She was all alone at the house and felt as though she could really breathe. She did, filling her lungs with the fresh country air, then exhaling slowly.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat and watched the sun set. She’d seen plenty of sunrises, mostly in the car on her way to work, but never had the time to appreciate them. More often than not, she’d simply grunt in frustration at the glare that made driving more difficult. But this sunset truly was beautiful in all the clichéd ways it could possibly be. It filled her heart with a peace she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  She’d let work consume her, and before that, her studies. Whatever it took to succeed, that’s where her focus had always landed. It was what she had to do – she was a Zhu, and the Zhu family always succeeded. If she didn’t try hard enough, there was the shame and guilt that her father and mother heaped on to help push her back into line. No doubt her grandparents had done the same thing to them; it was a proud family tradition, one she’d had no intention of upsetting.

  Until now. Now she was tired. She’d worked at full capacity for so long, she wasn’t entirely sure what rest felt like. She knew sitting curled up on a porch swing was a good start, but it wasn’t enough. She let her eyes drift closed and leaned her head back until it rested on the back of the swing.

  Where was that email the HR manager had promised her from the Brigham? She’d worked there for two years as an intern, then a surgical resident. And her boss had offered her a permanent position there as a general surgeon. “We’re thrilled to have you on the team,” he’d said the last time they met. “We’ll get the paperwork started … just a formality, really. There’s no one else we’d rather work with.”