by Liz Isaacson
“All right,” Emmett said. “I’ll bring her down to you tonight. Does that work?”
“It works.”
Emmett hung up with Alison, more depressed than ever. At the same time, he thanked the Lord for helping his plans to go so smoothly. He’d texted Molly that morning about coming to Omaha, and she hadn’t answered yet. But when she did, Emmett wanted to be ready.
He already had a bag packed and all he needed was a text. Or a phone call. Heck, he’d take an email or a Facebook message at this point. Something.
He couldn’t imagine the stress Molly was feeling, so he tried not to be impatient or frustrated with her lack of communication. He hadn’t exactly been Mr. Communicative himself, sticking to facts about the horses and the ranch until this morning.
Leaving his phone on the fence post, he moved back into the training circle to where Chocolate waited. The horse kept his head down as Emmett approached, exactly how he’d been trained to do.
“C’mon, boy,” Emmett whispered and held out his hand. The horse should come to him, treat or no treat, and he did. Chocolate had been down since Molly’s departure too, and now Emmett gave him an affectionate pat on the neck. “I miss her, too.”
He sighed and swung into the saddle. He guided Chocolate with his reins and legs to move within four feet of the barrel he’d put out. He forced the horse to keep his head down, and when Chocolate performed his duty, Emmett took a baby carrot from the bag attached to the saddle horn and rewarded the horse.
Over and over, at varying speeds, did Emmett make Chocolate approach the barrel, circle it, and come out straight. He’d have to do that three times in under fifteen seconds to win a barrel race, and Emmett was nothing if not meticulous with his horse training.
The work was mindless, and Emmett loved it. Loved the smell of the country and dust and horsehair. Loved the feel of the animal beneath him and the sound of hooves on packed earth.
His phone sounded, and he swung Chocolate toward the fence post. The screen was black by the time they got there, but a blue light flashed. Emmett picked up his phone and saw a text from Courtney Davis.
His throat tightened and then released. Courtney was interested in buying Hurricane, and her family had a lot of money to make sure she was equipped with the best horse possible. He confirmed her appointment for the following Wednesday, and he put a reminder in his calendar to spend Tuesday afternoon bathing Hurricane and getting him pretty for the barrel racer.
Not the text he wanted, but progress, he supposed. He shoved the phone in the bag with the carrots and got back to work.
After lunch, Grant went with Emmett from the homestead to pasture while Emmett detailed what he’d done with Chocolate’s training that morning. Emmett had asked Landon if he could get someone to take over the Friesian’s training as he’d been hoping and praying with every cell in his body that Molly would ask him to come to Nebraska.
They approached Chocolate in the pasture, where Emmett had left him before heading to lunch, when Emmett realized he’d left his phone in the bag on the saddle—which now hung in the tack room.
“You coax him over here,” Emmett said. “He should come to you whenever you say. I’ll go grab the equipment.” He practically ran back to the horse barn, his hopes soaring toward the clouds like someone had inflated them with helium.
He wasn’t sure he could stand another minute of living here at Brush Creek without Molly. Or at least the prospect of seeing Molly soon.
His phone flashed blue and green when he finally got to it, and he’d missed a call and a string of texts from Molly.
I do want you to come to Omaha.
But I understand if you can’t.
I know the harvest is soon, and I know you’re working on a deal for Hurricane.
But when you can.
I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but my dad isn’t doing well. If he dies….
Call me when you get a sec.
His heart beat behind his eyes, in his ears, in the back of his throat. She wanted him to come to Omaha.
She wanted him.
He hit the call button without seeing if she’d left a message and waited while it rang.
“Hey,” she said, her voice hushed.
“Can you talk?” he asked.
“Give me a minute.” Scuffling came through the line, then a bang, and then her heavy sigh. “All right.”
“I got your texts. I’m already packed.”
She didn’t answer, and Emmett checked to make sure his phone was still working. Since its malfunction last week, he didn’t trust the thing.
“Thank you,” she said just as he put the device back to his ear. “I need you.”
“I don’t know when I can come,” he said. “I need to talk to Landon, and I already set up an appointment with a rider for Hurricane on Wednesday.”
“Whenever is fine,” she said. “My dad’s—he’s not—well, he’s not doing well. The doctor told us this morning that he doesn’t think he’ll last another week.” Her voice broke on the last word, and Emmett’s heart cracked. He needed to be with her. Now.
“I’ll be there,” he said. “As fast as I can, I’ll be there.”
She sniffled. “It’s fine, really. I’m fine. I—”
“You are not,” he said firmly, glancing toward the ceiling. “It’s okay to not be okay.”
Her silence meant she was too choked up to answer, and he imagined her nodding while she wiped her beautiful eyes.
“I have a few things to take care of.” He grabbed the saddle and other equipment he needed to saddle Chocolate and started down the aisle of the horse barn. “I’ll call you tonight and let you know when I can come, all right?”
“All right,” she said. “Thank you.”
He paused in the doorway, one foot in sunlight and the other still in shade. He swallowed hard and said, “Molly?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.” He cleared his throat. “You hang on, all right?”
“Uh huh,” she said.
Before he could make a bigger fool of himself, he said, “All right. Talk to you later,” and hung up. He let his arm drop to his side, gripping the phone until his bones hurt. The device vibrated and he looked at it.
I love you too.
A grin broke onto his face and everything inside him finally felt free. He whooped, laughed, and hurried back to the pasture so he could get Grant working with Chocolate.
Two weeks later, Emmett finally loaded his packed bag into his truck and turned to embrace Tess. She wept as she hugged him, and Walker handed him a cooler full of her concoctions.
“You’re staying in Denver tonight, right?” she asked for at least the twentieth time since he’d shown up at her and Walker’s place and asked for their help. Landon had wanted him to give Grant a couple more weeks of training with Chocolate, and the owner really did need all his cowboys’ help to get the harvest in.
Everything was finally in place, including Emmett’s hotel reservation in Denver that night. “You made the reservation,” Emmett said with a grin. “So yes, I’m staying in Denver tonight.”
“And Molly’s dad hasn’t passed away yet, right?”
Emmett set his jaw and shook his head. “He’s holding on, despite what the doctors keep saying. He’s still in the hospital, and Molly is exhausted.”
Tess nodded. “I talked to her yesterday.”
“Then why are you standin’ here askin’ the poor man questions?” Walker rolled his eyes and clapped Emmett on the shoulder. “Drive carefully, Emmett.” He put his arm around Tess’s shoulders and eased her away from the truck so Emmett could get in.
He left Brush Creek, hoping he’d be back really soon—with Molly. But he just didn’t know, as he’d told Landon. Landon had assured him there would always be a job here for him—and Molly too—and to keep him updated.
Emmett ate burgers and fries and slept poorly in the hotel. By the time he arrived in Omaha, he thought his nerves would explode f
rom his body and demand to be transplanted into someone with much less anxiety.
He’d called Molly an hour ago, and she’d said she’d be waiting in the lobby. His cowboy boots made clunking noises on the tile as he walked and walked from the parking garage. He finally saw a large rotunda up ahead—and a gorgeous redhead with curly hair.
“Molly,” came out of his mouth before he could tell it not to. He was much too far away for her to hear him, and yet she lifted her head and searched the hallway where he was almost running now.
She leapt to her feet when she finally saw him, and he did break into a jog then.
“Emmett!” She met him at the edge of the rotunda and he swept her off her feet with a booming laugh that filled the space. The feel of her in his arms was absolutely right, and Emmett finally felt like the hole that had been in his life had been plugged.
He set her on her feet and took her face in his hands, feeling her cheekbones and along her jaw. “You’re beautiful,” he said, gazing at her with all the love he felt. “I missed you so much.”
She grinned at him, and though he saw the exhaustion in the lines around her eyes, she seemed happy to see him. “You sold Hurricane all right?”
“No horse talk,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. This union of their mouths was sweeter than the first, as Emmett had thought he’d lost her. He rejoiced to be holding her again, tasting the coffee she’d recently drank, and smelling that pineappley scent that belonged uniquely to her.
“I love you,” he whispered against her lips before claiming them again.
She clung to him like she needed his frame to keep her upright, and Emmett was overjoyed to provide for her whatever she wanted. She kissed him back with all the passion she’d always had and murmured, “I love you too,” before tucking her head against his chest.
“My mom’s dying to meet you,” she said, stepping back and threading her arm through his elbow. “Are you ready for that?”
“I was born ready for that.” He grinned at her and she smiled back, and Emmett wondered how he’d been happy before meeting Molly. How he’d gone home to his cabin without her. How he’d felt settled when she wasn’t his.
He knew now that he could only be happy with her, and that wherever she was would be home to him.
Chapter Fourteen
Molly poked her head into the hospital room, hoping her dad was awake and would be able to remember meeting Emmett. She feared it would be the one and only time he did, but she stuffed that worry to the bottom of her feet.
She found both of her parents standing at the window, which shot surprise right through her. “Mom?”
Mom turned from the window and took in Emmett and Molly before a smile bloomed on her face, showing that younger version of her that Molly loved. “Molly, this must be your Emmett.” She turned back to Molly’s dad. “Gene, he’s here.”
Emmett’s fingers on hers tightened and then released as he stepped into the room and crossed to them. “Hello, sir. Ma’am.”
Mom twittered like a bird. “Oh, don’t be so formal. I’m Hattie and this is Gene.”
Emmett shifted his feet, moving forward and then backward, and then drawing both of her parents into a hug. “It’s so good to meet you,” he said.
Molly watched her mom close her eyes and hold onto one of Emmett’s wide shoulders, smiling for all she was worth. “So good to meet you too.”
He stepped back and clapped his hands. “So. Childhood stories. I’ve heard precious little.” He shot her a glance over his shoulder and grinned wolfishly. He helped her father back into bed and proceeded to wait on everyone hand and foot for the rest of the day.
Molly let him, because it was so nice to have someone else there who could shoulder the load. Someone else to do things, give advice, stay stoic. Once, she caught his eye as he sat in the window and listened to her mother outline how she’d gone out of the fifth grade spelling bee on the word reservoir, and he gave her an adoring smile that melted her heart.
Later that night, once they were finally alone, Molly asked him about the ranch, the horses, his cat.
“I gave Tigress to another family,” he said like it was nothing.
Molly tensed. “Just for a little while, right?”
“No, there was a ten-year-old girl who wanted a cat, and her mom gave her Tigress for her birthday.” He leaned over and unzipped his bag, pulling out a pair of gym shorts. “Bathroom’s down the hall, right?”
Molly jumped in front of the door, though it was open. Just the thought of him sleeping here at her parents’ house had her nerves in a knot. She thought she hadn’t been able to sleep before, but she feared tonight would be her worst night yet.
She shook her head, her jaw set. “I can’t believe you gave away your cat.”
“You’re allergic,” Emmett said, stepping closer, his fingers tripping over hers.
“You could’ve just had someone watch her while you came here.”
He lifted his eyes to hers. “And then what? When we go back to Brush Creek, what would you have done? Lived next door?” He scoffed and returned his attention to his luggage.
“I have no idea when I’ll go back to Brush Creek.”
“But you will,” he said.
“Maybe.”
He turned toward her deliberately. “There’s no ‘maybe’ about it, Molly. I’m staying here with you for as long as you need me. As long as you’re here. Then we’ll go back to Brush Creek and start training barrel horses again. Landon said we could.”
“It could be months and months.”
“So what?” He inched a little closer, his eyes dark, edged, and dangerous.
“So you’re going to live in my parents’ guest bedroom until then?” She lifted her chin and folded her arms.
“No, probably not,” he admitted. “It won’t be kosher after we’re engaged.”
Before Molly could blink, breathe, or vocalize, he displayed a black box with the lid cracked. A diamond sat nestled in the cream-colored silk insert.
Emmett dropped to one knee. “Molly Brady, will you marry me?”
Fireworks popped in her bloodstream. She half-laughed, half-cried. Gazing down on him, her heart swelled and swelled and swelled.
“Yes,” she finally said, a giggle escalating through her throat into a high-pitched squeal.
He straightened and she threw herself into his arms. He laughed as he caught her around the waist and kissed her. He slid the ring on her finger and looked at her with such hope and joy shining in his eyes, she couldn’t help but kiss him again.
Daddy held on for three more days before he passed away with all three of them in the room, one hand clutched in Molly’s and one in Mom’s. Emmett wept with them though he’d just met her father, and the next several days blurred as Molly helped her mom take care of all the funeral arrangements.
Emmett brought them food and insisted they go to bed on time. He had coffee ready in the morning, and he mowed the lawn and cleaned out the garage during the day. He visited with the neighbors and accepted the food from the ladies at the church. He took care of everyone and everything, and Molly loved him even more for it.
She mourned in stages, and when she finally admitted that her father would not be walking her down the aisle as she married Emmett, she broke down and cried. She’d mostly quieted by the time Emmett found her in the backyard, a pink lemonade rose clutched in her fingers.
“Come on now, sweetheart.” He tucked her into his side and rubbed her upper arm. “I brought pizza. Plain pepperoni. Your favorite.”
She stayed curled into him for another thirty minutes before she dared go in the house, where her mother met her with, “I think I should sell the house.”
Molly froze though the smell of tomato sauce and cheese and spicy pepperoni tickled her nose. “Sell the house?”
Her mom glanced around at the cupboards that hadn’t changed in two decades, the paint that Molly had helped with her junior year in college, and the carpet that had definite
ly seen better days. “Yeah. I don’t think I can live here without your father. It’s too big. And the yard. All those rose bushes.” She turned her eyes on Molly, who didn’t know what to say.
Obvious discomfort showed in her mom’s eyes, and Molly didn’t want to leave her here alone. She couldn’t even imagine living here without her dad, between these walls that held so many memories.
Molly drew a deep breath and met Emmett’s eyes and then her mom’s. “Can we pack up the pink lemonade rose bush and take it to Brush Creek?”
Two weeks later Molly drove her truck with her mother in the passenger seat, while Emmett drove his hitched to a fifteen-foot moving trailer. She had never been so tired. Cleaning out a two-thousand-square-foot house and consulting with her mother on every item had really sapped her.
Not to mention the painting, the staging, the multiple showings before the house went under contract. They’d signed the paperwork just last night, and Molly had never felt such relief.
Emmett had Tess and Megan looking for a simple apartment or a small cottage in town for Mom, and she’d called Megan and asked her if she could have her room back in the basement until she and Emmett were married.
He wanted a ranch wedding, but Molly wasn’t sure about having the ceremony outside of the church. She said she’d think about it, and the hours passed to Denver while her mind circled little else.
By the time she pulled in beside Emmett at a steakhouse in Denver, she’d decided. “Hey,” she said when he got out of the cab. “Let’s do it.”
“Do what?”
“Get married on the ranch.”
His face blanched and then split into a grin. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. What are the chances we can get Beauty to make an appearance?”
His joy visibly faded, and she laughed. “I was kidding.” She stepped into his arms and tilted her head up at him.
He received her, wrapping his arms around her waist without focusing on her. “I do miss Beauty.”
