A Home for the Horseman (Brush Creek Brides Book 5)

by Liz Isaacson

  A new one with Emmett?

  The jury was still out.

  And she didn’t need their verdict right now anyway. She could hold his hand, and laugh with him, and ask him questions about training a horse from wild to champion without knowing how things would end with them.

  She parked in front of his cabin instead of pulling around to the north end of the homestead, where she’d been parking in the RV bay.

  “I have a cat,” he reminded her. “Let me go shut her in the bedroom.”

  Molly let him leap from the truck and jog across the lawn. He didn’t have to unlock the door, which fascinated her. She’d locked every door behind her for a solid year, and she still barricaded herself in her bedroom in the basement.

  She told herself she didn’t need to be afraid anymore, that Clay had no idea where she was and he wouldn’t dare defy the restraining order anyway. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to compete in the rodeo, and she knew that was more important to him than she was.

  Emmett came back out to the porch, and Molly got out of her truck. He received her straight into his arms, and she tipped her face back to look into his. If he would just dip his mouth down, he could kiss her.

  Her heart started to race like she’d just given her horse the signal to start a barrel run. His shoulders beneath her fingers felt firm and fantastic, and she felt flirty and fun for the first time in a long time.

  “It was a great day, wasn’t it?” she asked.

  “We haven’t had ice cream yet.” He grinned wickedly and led her into his cabin. The clicking of the door behind her almost made Molly bolt, but she reminded herself that Emmett wasn’t Clay. That she wanted to be here with him.

  The back of her throat started to itch, but she ignored it. “We just finished eating,” she said as she glanced around. The cabin was nice—nicer than anything she’d lived in since graduating high school. Hardwood floors and slate gray walls with wood accents and exposed beams. The kitchen had quartz countertops, tile, and stainless steel appliances—and Emmett standing at the freezer.

  “And the day’s far from over,” he said, closing the freezer. “So maybe…I don’t know. You want to take a ride and then have ice cream?”

  She rubbed her eyes. “Sure. Or we can just watch a movie. Take an afternoon nap.”

  He glanced at the couch in his living room and swiped his cowboy hat off to scrub the curly hair on the back of his head. Molly smiled at the nervous gesture. “Let me guess. You haven’t had a woman in your cabin in a long time.”

  “You could’ve just stopped at I haven’t had a woman in my cabin.” He met her eyes, worry in his. “Ever.”

  “So I’m the first?” She strutted toward him, adding a little extra swing to her hips. He licked his lips as she advanced, and she was glad to know she wasn’t the only one thinking about kissing.

  “The very first. I haven’t dated since I moved here.”

  “I bet the available ladies in town are disappointed by that.” She paused just outside his personal bubble, her own nerves starting a coup inside her chest.

  “I wouldn’t know.” He glanced at the back door. “I’ll grab you some Benadryl and we can sit on the back porch. It won’t be in the shade, but we can move the chairs under the trees if you want.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “Your eyes are turning red, and your whole face is puffing up.” He gave her that self-assured grin and went into the bathroom while she escaped all things cat and grabbed one of the camp chairs on the back porch and took it to the stand of trees bordering his lawn before the hay fields took over.

  He joined her a minute or two later, with two bottles of water and two pills for her. He didn’t sit in the camp chair he’d brought, but continued to a tree trunk and leaned against it. The sunlight haloed him, and his silhouette with that cowboy hat was one of the sexiest things Molly had ever seen.

  She sucked in a breath and made her decision. She wanted to let him know she liked him. So she pushed herself up and joined him at the tree line. “Emmett?”

  “Hmm?” He didn’t look at her but continued to gaze at the breathtaking horizon.

  “I’ve decided that I like you.”

  That got his attention and he turned his whole body toward her. “Is that right?” The swagger he’d possessed the first night she’d blown him off presented itself, and she swatted his chest.

  “You don’t have to be so proud of yourself.”

  “I’m not.” He drew her into his arms and ducked his head so his words tickled her ear when he said, “I’m nervous.”

  She sucked in her response when his lips lightly touched the top of her earlobe, and then nipped the bottom of it. Unconsciously, she clung to him, sure she’d fall without his support.

  He placed a kiss on her neck, just below her ear, and she murmured, “You’re missing.”

  “Missing what?” His husky voice held equal parts desire and apprehension.

  “My mouth.”

  He pulled back and their eyes locked. “I’ve decided I like you too,” he said, all the encouragement Molly needed.

  She stretched up and closed the distance between her mouth and his. While she hadn’t had much experience in the kissing department, the way he explored without demanding, used the right amount of pressure to indicate his feelings, and held her close with those large hands made for an experience she wouldn’t soon forget.

  Chapter Seven

  If Emmett had known how exhilarating kissing a woman he liked could be, he might have made more of an effort to overcome his familial issues. As it was, he didn’t have a lot of practice with kissing women, but the way Molly sighed against his lips and kissed him back eagerly, he figured he was doing something right.

  After what felt like a long time, she broke their connection and giggled as she rested her forehead against his collarbone. Emmett held her in his arms and gazed into the distance, wondering what he’d just gotten himself into.

  His toes tingled and he swallowed hard, the comforting feeling of Molly in his arms wonderful and vibrant. “So, napping or horseback riding?” he asked. He wasn’t sure he could contain himself behind walls on such a gorgeous afternoon, and a skiff of nerves accompanied the thought of hanging out in his boss’s basement. But his house was obviously out, as Tigress caused a real problem for Molly.

  “Horseback riding,” she said. “And then I think you promised me ice cream.”

  Emmett grinned at her, held her hand in his as they crossed the lawn, the street, and through the ranch to the barn. “You want to take Beauty today?”

  She paused, turning her hazel eyes to his. “You’re going to let me ride your treasured horse?”

  Emmett grunted. “Hurricane misses me.” He stopped outside the horse’s stall. “Don’t you, boy?”

  Molly laughed and continued to Beauty, toward whom Emmett did shoot a longing glance. He did love Beauty, but she’d have to get used to a woman on her back soon enough. Might as well be Molly.

  With the horses saddled and their cowboy hats in place, Emmett led Molly north and west of the ranch along a dirt road that eventually ended in a much narrower trail.

  “How’s your father?” he asked as he eased ahead of her.

  “Doing a lot better. I still worry about him, though.”

  “Of course.” Emmett steered Hurricane down a slight incline that would take them to the stream. At this point in the spring, it would be rushing, full of water from the melted snow off the mountain. By the end of the summer, the water barely trickled through the riverbed.

  “Tell me about your family.”

  And so they swapped stories of their families, their childhoods, and their time in the rodeo. Emmett hadn’t thought conversing with a woman could be as pleasurable as it was with Molly, and by the time they arrived at the stream, he wanted to kiss her again. Badly.

  He dismounted and let Hurricane drink, his thoughts swimming far away and then surfing back. Molly stepped to his side and he automatically
drew her hand into his, wanting to be close to her, needed to be grounded by human touch.

  “I don’t think I realized how lonely I was,” he murmured.

  Molly squeezed his fingers. “Surrounded by people but always alone.”

  He looked at her, and she lifted one shoulder in a sexy shrug. “I’ve been there. Still am, most days.”

  Emmett leaned over and touched his lips to hers, barely a union but enough to send fireworks through his system. When he refocused on the stream, the colors seemed brighter. The sun warmer. The silence more comforting. With Molly, everything was simply better, and he sighed with happiness.

  The following day, Emmett sat in his truck, waiting for Molly to come out of the homestead. While she’d admitted that she hadn’t been to church in a while, she was also willing to go with him.

  Landon and Megan pulled out in their minivan, and Emmett waved and watched as they disappeared down the lane. With only twenty minutes until the sermon started, Molly jogged through the front door. “I’m so sorry,” she said as she climbed in the truck. She scooted all the way over next to him and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I sort of lost track of time.”

  “What were you doin’ in there?” he asked as he put the truck in gear. She wore a little black dress that had Emmett’s heart pumping hard, and bright yellow heels that made him chuckle. “Nice shoes.”

  “I was trying to tame my curls.” She reached up and pulled her fingers through her hair. “I’m out of this curl cream I use, and it’s a real problem.”

  He glanced at her hair and thought it looked just fine. “You should talk to Tess,” he said. “She’s a hairdresser, and can probably get you something.”

  “The technical term is stylist.” Molly laughed and put her hand on his leg. Emmett sucked in a breath, fire exploding up and down from the origin of her touch.

  “All right,” he said, his voice only slightly scratchy. “She’s a stylist.”

  Molly fidgeted next to him as he drove down the canyon. He parked and secured her hand in his as he strode toward the church. The doors were already closed, which meant the meeting had started. Anxiety wound through him. Now they’d have to walk in late, an open invitation for everyone to stare at them.

  Emmett thought hard about holding Molly’s hand in front of the whole blasted town. In front of Landon and Megan, Walker and Tess, everyone at the ranch. His stomach twisted, but he held tight to Molly’s fingers and opened the door.

  Sure enough, the organ was playing and the choir was singing, but at least the preacher hadn’t started yet. He crossed the foyer and paused in the doorway, finding an open bench halfway down on the left easily enough. He towed Molly along beside him and slid into the seat, his heart pounding, pounding, pounding.

  Ted and April sat on the back row. Surely they’d seen him. He wondered how long it would take the bronc rider to message him and say something. Blake and Erin sat there too, with all of her kids, and Emmett resisted the urge to turn and see if they were staring. It felt like everyone was staring.

  His phone buzzed, dread threaded through him. He pulled it from his pocket and checked it anyway, finding a message of Are you holding that woman’s hand? from Ted.

  Before Emmett could even roll his eyes, a new text arrived from Tess. How was your date yesterday?

  And then I’m so glad you brought her to church with you! You two are so cute.

  Emmett rolled his eyes and silenced his phone completely, shoving it in his back pocket with a little too much force.

  The choir had finished and the preacher stood at the pulpit. “Let’s think about the Lord’s sacrifice for us today,” he said, and Emmett was instantly swept away by Pastor Peters’ calm voice and obvious passion for God. A rush of gratitude filled him, not only for the Savior’s love and sacrifice, but for the preacher and the people in this town.

  The meeting ended, but Molly didn’t get up. She continued to stare toward the front of the chapel until Emmett said, “You okay?”

  “Do you believe everything he just said?” she asked without looking away from where Pastor Peters stood, talking to a couple of older ladies who sat in Widow Row—the front row of the chapel.

  “Yes,” Emmett said. “Do you?”

  She swung her gaze toward him then, and he found tears in the corners of her eyes. “I want to talk to him.” She stood and strode faster than Emmett thought possible in those yellow pinpoint heels toward the pulpit. Emmett scurried after her, unsure if this was proper protocol or not. The pastor often made his way to the doors and spoke with people there.

  Molly waited until he finished with the widows, then she said, “Hello, Pastor. I’m Molly Brady. I’m new in town.”

  The preacher glanced at Emmett and back to Molly with a warm smile. “Welcome. How are you liking Brush Creek?”

  “It’s great. Fine.” Molly wrung her hands together. “I just wanted to ask, I mean—Do you really think the Lord suffered for all our sins?”

  Pastor Peters nodded, the intensity in his eyes sharpening again. “I don’t just think it. I don’t just believe it. I know it.”

  Emmett inched next to Molly and slipped his arm around her waist. She sagged into him, openly weeping now. “What if you’ve made some big mistakes?”

  Alarms sounded in Emmett’s head. What kind of mistakes could Molly have possibly made?

  “I don’t believe anyone has made a mistake they can’t come back from,” Pastor Peters said. “The Lord always wants you to return to Him.”

  Molly nodded, met Emmett’s eye, and then turned and walked out. Emmett wasn’t quite sure what to make of her behavior. Molly seemed so put together, despite her opinion that her hair didn’t look right today. The fact was, Molly was the type of woman who always had everything lined up, all things in their place. Emmett had known lots of women like her—barrel racers had specific personalities.

  “Thanks, Pastor.” Emmett flashed a tight smile at the man still standing there and moved up the aisle as well. He didn’t know what mistakes Molly had made, or how serious they were, but with every step he took he knew he wanted to be there to find out. Be there to support her. Be there when she fell apart so he could put her back together again.

  He paused on the steps just outside the door, looking for her. She waited with her back to the chapel, the almost-summer breeze playing with her skirt, leaning against a tree.

  He’d taken one step when Ted said, “So Emmett’s got himself a girlfriend.” Emmett moaned and turned back to his friends.

  “Ted, come on. We’re not fourteen.”

  But Ted grinned like he’d just won the lottery, and Emmett cast a longing glance at Molly.

  Chapter Eight

  Molly had gotten the tears to stop. Thankfully. She watched the water in the stream bordering the park swirl by, taking with it leaves, bits of debris, and small sticks. She wished she could jump into the water and have it carry her along without a care in the world.

  But she couldn’t. She’d been truthful when she’d told Emmett she hadn’t been to church in a while. Her rodeo schedule didn’t allow much time for worship, and Molly realized now how much she’d missed it. The all-encompassing peace, the way everything around her stilled, how her normal worries and cares faded into silence as she listened the sermon.

  She hadn’t made any horrible, awful mistakes—at least that she knew of. But she found it miraculous that the Savior could take on the sins of those who had. Her thoughts had centered on Clay during most of the sermon, and she’d felt an overwhelming instinct that he’d been forgiven for what he’d done to her.

  Not only that, she’d also felt like she now needed to forgive him too. She closed her eyes for the tenth time in as many minutes and prayed. How do I do that? How can I forgive him for making my life a living nightmare for a whole year?

  She didn’t have the answer. And she didn’t have the forgiveness in her heart, which made tears prick her eyes again. Was she as bad as him, withholding her forgiveness?

>   Emmett finally joined her, standing nearby but not touching her. “Hey.”

  She stepped into his embrace and pressed her cheek to his shoulder.

  His hands moved up and down her back, a welcome comfort when she felt so restless. “You okay?”

  “Yes.”

  He sighed and she matched her breathing to his. “You’ll probably never come to church with me again.”

  All at once, Molly had the answer to her prayers. She didn’t know how she could forgive Clay right now, but if she kept coming to church, she’d find the answers she needed.

  “No, I want to come every week,” she said.

  Emmett leaned back and looked at her. “Yeah?”

  She smiled and though her face felt too hot and she was sure looked blotchy, she tipped up and kissed him quick. “Yeah.”

  A couple of weeks passed with life as usual on the ranch, and at home. She called her mom every few days, but her father’s health hadn’t improved or declined. Something to be grateful for, she supposed.

  She continued to work with Hurricane on tighter turns, and Emmett had just advanced them to full runs when Landon showed up one Friday morning.

  “I got in at an auction happening tomorrow.”

  “Where?” Emmett asked.

  “Cheyenne.”

  Emmett groaned, but Molly didn’t know why. She’d been to Cheyenne lots of times, and it was a nice place. Well, nice enough.

  Landon lifted his foot and rested it on the bottom rung of the fence separating the walkway surrounding the indoor arena from the practice area. “I know.”

  Emmett glared and turned back to Beauty, pretending to inspect one of her feet, though Molly had seen him do that exact check only ten minutes ago. “What’s our budget?”

  “I’m comin’ with you.”