by Liz Isaacson
You’ve a long way to go, he told himself as he marched back to the horse barn, Molly right beside him. He waved her into the barn first, and then he pressed his eyes closed and uttered a simple prayer. Guide me.
Saturday arrived in a windy, whirly mess. Emmett’s first thought was that he could easily get out of going to the strawberry planting that morning. The event might even be cancelled. Hope ballooned in his chest as he put together a western omelet for breakfast and opened a can of cat food for his calico tabby cat.
“Tigress,” he called, adding a whistle to his statement. The cat emerged from the bedroom, where she’d been curled up beside him all night. He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Molly part of his heart belonged to this feline.
She purred as she rubbed against his ankles, and he bent down to give her a proper pat. “Time to eat.” He lifted her onto the counter where her bowl sat and they ate breakfast together.
He’d made it through the week with Molly at his side. She didn’t try to argue with him again, and she didn’t correct him. He took her through how he’d start a horse, and last night, Landon had said he’d be taking Molly and Emmett to Green River to look at potential new steeds to start.
Since then his phone had been going off non-stop. Why he’d decided to give his phone number to Molly, he wasn’t sure.
“Sure you are,” he muttered as his phone chimed for the first time that morning. He was sure it wouldn’t be the last. He’d given his number to Molly and told her to call anytime, day or night, when he’d caught her weeping in the barn on Wednesday. Apparently her father had been cleared to go home though he was still quite ill and had entered the first stages of kidney failure.
His heart had gone out to her, and he’d sat next to her, his back pressing into the stall door until she’d quieted. She’d held his hand, and Emmett admitted that it felt nice to be connected to someone in such an intimate way.
Which was why he reached for his phone and read her message. We really don’t have to go today.
And why he sent back, I want to go today.
It’s not a date.
What if I said I wanted it to be? Emmett stared at the words, his tongue thick in his mouth and his omelet forgotten. He was sure Molly would freak out and refuse to come upstairs if he sent it. No, he needed to handle her the way he would one of his most skittish horses.
So he thumbed off the message that revealed how he really felt and typed We should still go. It’ll be fun.
Her response came several minutes later, after Emmett had scraped his uneaten cold eggs into the trash and put out water for Tigress. Can I come over for a few minutes?
I have a cat.
We can sit on your front porch.
Whatever you want, sweetheart. He did take a chance and send that one, and then he shut Tigress in his bedroom and stepped onto the porch, keeping all her dander and fur and other allergy-causing issues inside the cabin.
Molly showed up a few minutes later, and Emmett’s mouth turned dry as he watched her cross the lane and come toward his cabin. She wore khaki capris that showed off the muscles in her legs and a frilly red top the color of strawberries. He reminded himself to breathe when he saw the strappy sandals and her bright red toenails.
He didn’t think redheads actually wore red, but Molly made the color look amazing. She sat herself next to him and wrapped her arms around her knees as she pulled them to her chest. It was these vulnerable moments Emmett liked best about her. He thought the other, tough woman was an act. Someone she pretended to be. Someone she thought she needed to be for some reason.
“Is it a good morning?” he asked.
She shot him a quick smile and said, “Yeah.” She released one of her arms and rested her hand on his knee. His pulse jumped and his blood turned to liquid fire and he reached for her fingers and held them lightly in his.
“Tell me what’s goin’ on,” he said.
She scooted a little closer and rested her head on his shoulder. “You have a…magical way….” she whispered. “I can’t explain it, but you….”
He lifted her wrist to his lips, causing her to suck in a breath and hold it. Emmett’s mouth curved up and he lowered his hand and he breathed with Molly.
“Are you sayin’ you don’t hate me?” he asked, daring to break this peaceful silence.
“No,” she said, her breath heating his shoulder through his shirt. “I don’t hate you.”
Emmett’s mind raced and he employed his neutral voice when he asked, “Are you sayin’ you like me?”
She nudged him with her knees. “I’m still trying to decide.”
“Is that why you don’t want to go to the strawberry fields with me today?”
“I’m—Do you really think Landon is going to have me start training a horse right away?”
Emmett’s defenses flew back into position. “No, Molly,” he said just as he had in his texts to her last night. “I don’t think he’ll have you start for a few months. I think he’ll get us a horse we can take through the process together.” He squeezed her hand and let go, especially when the front door of the cabin next door opened. He shot to his feet, practically throwing Molly away from him when Tess exited.
She didn’t even glance in their direction, thankfully, but Molly got the message. What message that was, Emmett wasn’t entirely sure, but by the time he turned to check on her she had already crossed his lawn.
No goodbye, no nothing. He sighed and pulled out his phone to text her. But an apology seemed stupid on the screen, and he ended up going back into his cabin without sending her anything.
He leaned against the closed door, wondering if she could let down her guard long enough for him to let down his. Why did he care if Tess saw them holding hands? Fear bolted straight through his heart. He knew what holding hands led to, and it started with a g– and ended with –irlfriend.
And girlfriends became fiancés, and fiancés became wives, and wives became ex-wives. He took a deep breath and steeled himself against the beauty of vulnerability of Molly Brady. He reminded himself of the mother he hadn’t seen in twenty years, and the father who’d tried to find a replacement for her and had failed two more times.
Emmett didn’t need that drama in his life. No sirree. Dating, and women, and marriage simply weren’t for him.
Which made Molly’s next text doubly upsetting.
Next time we’ll have to sit on your back porch. Or inside. I might be able to brave the cat.
He stared at the phone, trying to decipher the message. He felt like he needed a translator, a key to crack the code, in order to speak with women. He had no idea how to respond, and feared that if he didn’t get it right, a bomb might go off.
An hour later, he opened the door to Michael’s knock, who asked, “Are you riding with us?”
Emmett had always gone down the canyon to the strawberry fields with Walker and Tess and their boys. Today, though, he glanced across the street to the homestead. “I think I’m gonna go with Molly.” He smiled at the boy who ran back to Walker’s big black truck and climbed in the back.
Tess met his eye and lifted her hand, and from this distance, Emmett couldn’t decide if she was smirking at him or wishing him well. Probably both, he thought as he crossed the street and knocked on the front door.
Only moments later, Molly opened it. “Oh, hello.”
“It’s time to go,” he said. “Do you want to drive, or should I?”
She snatched her keys off the front table as if she alone owned the homestead, and said, “I will,” before marching past him like she’d rather swim with sharks with an open wound than allow him to drive her anywhere.
Emmett sighed, annoyed with himself for being half-amused by her behavior, and followed her down the sidewalk.
Emmett’s stomach twisted as she curved down the roads and entered the town. He needed to just tell Molly why he held women at arm’s length—why he’d dropped her hand so abruptly that morning.
She seemed content behind the whee
l, and she eased to a stop at the junction of Main Street. “Which way do I go?”
“Left,” he said. “The strawberry fields are up the road to the north about five minutes.” Emmett swallowed and looked out the window the way he’d been doing for the past fifteen minutes. “Stay on this street and head out of town,” he added once she turned.
They passed the bakery, the church, and continued down the main shopping district in town. “Look,” he said as she left town. “I—” He exhaled. “I’ve—wow, this is harder than I thought it would be.”
She cut him a glance out of the corner of her eye. “Do you have a secret family in Napa Valley or something? A wife hidden away? Two cute little boys with your pretty eyes?”
Emmett started shaking his head before she finished talking. “No, I—you think my eyes are pretty?” He was glad she’d chosen to drive, because then he could study her.
She lifted one slim shoulder, disrupting that silky blouse. “You know they are.”
“I do?”
“Please.” She gave him a death glare. “I know all about handsome men like you. I wasn’t the first woman you tried to pick up at that country line dance.”
“I—” Emmett sputtered at the ridiculousness of her statement. “I wasn’t picking you up. I don’t do that. I just—I like to dance with someone.”
“It’s line dancing,” she said.
“Yeah, and I like the social aspect of it. I have never, never picked someone up.” He let the disgust in his voice permeate his voice. “I go to church every week, I’ll have you know.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Do you?”
“Maybe not every week.” She squirmed in her seat, something he hadn’t seen her do in the horse arena while on Hurricane. She was supremely confident there, and now she wasn’t.
“So I talked to you at a dance. You were rude,” he said, his original topic of conversation fading.
“I was not.”
He chuckled. “Molly, I don’t even think you realize how cold you are.”
Her fingers clenched on the wheel and an angry flush rushed up her neck.
“Look, that’s not what I was trying to say. No, I don’t have a secret wife or family or any cute boys with my pretty eyes hidden away somewhere.”
“Then anything you say now is easy.”
Emmett kicked a grin in her direction, but she didn’t see him. “Is this it?”
He focused on the road and said, “Yes, turn left here. The strawberry fields are up on the right.” He took a deep breath. “I haven’t dated in a while, because I’m honestly not interested in getting married.”
She pulled into the dirt parking lot and found a space. She put the truck in park and turned the ignition off before she twisted toward him and met his eyes. “You’re not?”
“My dad, well, let’s just say that all the men in my family have been divorced, some more than once. My mom left us when I was twelve, and I just don’t need any of that in my life.” He sighed. “I have my horses, and my cat, and well, I always thought that would be enough.”
Molly took a few minutes to absorb his words, something he appreciated. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“Thank you,” he said, noticing the steady stream of people heading down the path and into the fields. “Should we go?”
“Yeah. No.” She unbuckled her seat belt and paused. “You said you thought that would be enough. Do you still feel like that?” She squinted at him, something he noticed her doing often. He wondered if she needed glasses or she was fine-tuning her superhero sight.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Kinda like how you’re trying to decide if you like me. I’m trying to decide if I could do any better than my dad and brothers. I guess I’m trying to figure out if dating you is worth potentially getting my heart stomped on.”
She flinched, and a hard edge entered her eyes. “I’m probably not.” She got out of the truck and Emmett joined her. She put her hand in his and added, “But Emmett, look around you. There are four cowboys living right next door to you who’ve taken the risk. Who’re happy with their choice. None of the ranch wives are running away. No divorces there.”
Emmett considered her words, thought through his friends on the ranch. “April came to Brush Creek pregnant. Their baby isn’t Ted’s. I mean, it is, because he adopted the baby. But yeah.”
“And they’re happy now. Maybe you just need to adjust who you’re looking at for examples. That’s all I’m saying.” They arrived at the ticket booth, and Emmett presented his coupon and paid for their entrance to the fields.
Once through the gate, Emmett distracted himself from Molly’s very wise words with fertilizer, dirt, and strawberry plants. If he didn’t, he might actually take her advice and get out of his own way when it came to women.
And not just any woman. Molly.
Chapter Six
Molly enjoyed the hours she spent at the strawberry fields with Emmett. Sure, he stared at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. For anyone else, she’d raise her eyes to theirs and cock her eyebrows, maybe even stalk over to them and demand, “What?”
But she’d appreciated Emmett’s honesty with her. She hated to admit it, but she’d misjudged him the first time they’d met. And she’d probably been rude. She’d only been at the ranch for a week, and she could feel the love the people and families there had for each other. One only needed to eat a single meal with them to know, and she wondered how far gone Emmett must be for him to miss it.
She’d had an emotional week, and working with earth and plants calmed her. It had been stressful learning a new job, dealing with new co-workers, learning about her father’s continued poor health. Emmett had been there every step of the way, reassuring her, comforting her, being kind to her. It had been nice to have someone. And not just someone. Someone she wasn’t constantly second-guessing, wondering why he was being nice to her, what he’d want from her later.
So it was that she touched his back as she passed him to put her fledgling plant in the row next to the one he was currently embedding in the dirt. He glanced at her, and something hot passed between them.
He tapped her shoulder and asked her if she wanted some water, and when he brought it back, he lingered in her personal space. She liked the dance. The little touches. The exchanged glances.
Molly wasn’t sure she could allow more, but for now, she was keeping her options open. She knew that if these easy flirtations turned into something more serious, she’d have to tell Emmett about her stalker, as well as her nonexistent maternal instincts.
“Look at you two.”
Molly glanced up at Tess, who stood with a tall cowboy and two boys who couldn’t be more different. She straightened and smiled. “Hey, Tess. Are you guys done?”
Emmett joined her and knocked knuckles with the two boys. He seemed so natural with kids, and Molly marveled at his ability to do so.
“Yeah, we just finished. Do you guys want to go to lunch together?” Tess glanced at her husband, whose name Molly thought was Walker. “We’ll wait for you. Looks like you’re almost done.”
Emmett shifted closer to Molly, clearly deferring to her. His fingers brushed hers and disappeared. She looked at Emmett and back to the family standing before her. “I think Emmett was going to take me to Beaverton for lunch.” She locked eyes with him, finding the surprise there. “Right?”
“Sure, yeah.” He brushed his hands on his jeans and seemed fascinated by the ground. “Molly loves Chinese food.”
“No,” Molly said quickly. “Remember how you said they have great onion rings at that drive-through?”
“No Chinese food?” Emmett studied her, and he sure wasn’t good at keeping up a ruse.
She smiled and tucked her elbow into his arm. “I think we’re just going to go to lunch by ourselves. Thanks, though.”
Tess’s sharp eyes didn’t miss anything, and Molly found herself admiring the woman. “All right.” She started down the path, and her boys
went with her. She’d paced away several steps, and Emmett had retrieved another plant and moved down the row to the next spot, when Tess returned.
She looked right into Molly’s eyes, hers dancing with light. “You like him, right?”
Molly barely knew Tess, but she said, “Yeah.”
“Be careful with him.” She glanced down the row and back to her family. “He’s…new to this kind of stuff.”
Molly wanted to tell Tess that so was she, that she hadn’t dated anyone seriously until she was twenty-five, and then she’d had one boyfriend who’d turned psycho. But she simply said, “Okay,” and let Tess go.
“What’d she say?” Emmett stood only a step behind her, and Molly followed his gaze as he watched Tess leave with her family.
“How well do you know her?”
He ran his hands from her bare shoulder to her wrist and back. Molly had the dangerous inclination to close her eyes and sigh under the strength and warmth of his touch. Thankfully, she didn’t let herself exhibit such revealing actions.
“Really well. She’s like a mother figure for me.”
“She can’t be much older than you.”
“She’s not. She’s had a rough life, and she’s come through it. I look up to her, usually listen to her when she talks, that sort of thing.” He glanced back the way Tess had gone. “Her first husband died at the company he owned, and not a year later she was diagnosed with breast cancer. She and Walker were married on the way to the hospital just before she got a mastectomy.”
Molly’s admiration for the woman went through the roof. “I can see why you like her. She just said I needed to be careful with you.”
His light eyes darkened. “I disagree.” He ducked his head and picked up another plant. “Come on. Let’s finish, and then we’ll have to drive around to find those onion rings.” He gave her his classic arrogant smirk, but it was starting to grow on her, so the only emotion that tripped through her was delight that they’d get to spend some more time together.
She polished off the last onion ring at his insistence, the last hour in the restaurant one of the best in Molly’s life. Well, maybe she’d put her championship wins above the lunch. At this point, it was a toss up as she’d left that life behind and was trying to carve out a new one.
