The teen sat abruptly on Emily’s bed, a defeated expression on her face. “All due respect, Miss Emily, the only person who compliments me on my sewing skill is my mother.”
“Is that because you never show anyone, apart from your mother, what you’ve made?” At the teenager’s reluctant nod, Em gestured to Tina’s customized T-shirt. “Well, I’ve seen it and I’m complimenting you. There are easily twenty to thirty girls going to compete for the rodeo queen crown and you can bet they’ll all be wearing the same thing.”
“But...” Tina’s shoulders were creeping downward. “People will look at me if I dress different.”
“You’re beautiful. Why wouldn’t they look at you?” Tina made a strangled noise that Emily ignored. She turned back to her closet, digging around until she found what she was looking for—a fitted, red denim jacket with a black velvet horse appliqued on the back. “I wore this when I won the crown. It was—”
“Really? You won wearing that?” Jonah stood in the doorway, looking like he was ready to take a meeting in Hollywood in his white chinos, pink polo and leather loafers without socks.
“Yes, really.” Emily flushed with heat. Jonah always managed to make her feel like a country bumpkin. “Can I help you?”
“Yes.” Jonah beamed at Tina and introduced himself. His hair was wet, as if he’d showered. “I thought we’d ask Gertie about Letty.”
“After dinner.” Emily shooed him away.
Jonah didn’t budge. “But I need to figure out my plot and—”
“I’m working now. With Tina.” Emily mustered a smile for the teen’s benefit, which was challenging considering she wanted to scowl at Jonah until he left the room. “I’m coaching Tina in her efforts to be a rodeo queen. We’re discussing wardrobe choices for the various events.” She huffed and, to Tina, said, “You have an evening gown, right?”
Tina nodded, although she hadn’t brought it.
Emily reached deep in her closet for a zippered bag. She hung it from a hook and opened it up. “If you don’t have fancy chaps, you can borrow mine.” Hers were white with red fringe and lined with red sequins. “This was the evening gown I wore when I won.” It was yellow. Emily spread the skirt wide, revealing ombré shades of yellow in the train.
“It’s leather.” Jonah sounded shocked.
“Rodeo queen competition dresses often are.” She’d sold off most of her other gowns and fancy jackets. “And I wore a belt and a huge buckle.” Emily rummaged around in the bottom of the bag until she found it.
Charlie hurried in carrying a plate of cookies with both hands. He practically dropped them on Emily’s dresser and then ran out. Tina and Emily each took a cookie. They were warm and wonderful.
Jonah ignored the cookies, his expression curious. “Ah.” He moved toward Emily and her closet with the jerky movements of a man who wasn’t accustomed to riding. “I believe the issue is how Tina should dress to convey sophistication and yet be able to do her cowboying. Cowgirling.” He stopped his perusal of Emily’s closet to face them and raise a finger. “Rodeoing!”
“Jonah isn’t actually qualified to dress anyone for a rodeo competition.” Emily pointed at his pink polo. In her wildest imaginings, the man she married would never wear pink. That just wasn’t the cowboy way. And yet, he made pink look good on a man, although she’d rather not admit it.
Tina struggled to contain a smile.
“Au contraire.” Jonah tilted his head as he stared at the clothes laid across Emily’s bed. “I’m qualified to give fashion advice because my sister is Ashley Monroe.” He smiled at Tina. “The Ashley Monroe, beloved former child actress and style icon.”
“Name dropper,” Emily murmured. He was stealing her credibility with Tina. “Hollywood has a completely different style of fashion.”
Jonah ignored Em. “And my other sister Laurel was Ashley’s stylist for years. I couldn’t block out their clothes conversations with my earbuds in and the volume on as loud as it would go. Trust me, I tried. I’m painfully familiar with styling a look for every occasion.”
“But not the rodeo, Hollywood man.” Emily laid her hands on his shoulders. Despite him being slender, they were broad, strong shoulders. When she tried to turn him, he didn’t budge. “Leave the Western styling to the former rodeo queen. Everything about the competition is larger than life.”
“I would, but...” Jonah patted one of her hands, gaze drifting toward the wardrobe options on the bed. “Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
“I can’t say this any clearer,” Emily spoke through gritted teeth. “Leave.”
He didn’t.
“You two are about the same size.” Moving past her, Jonah made quick work of Emily’s closet, one hanger at a time. “No. No. No. No.” His hand paused on the dress Emily had worn to his cousin’s wedding last month, the one Franny said brought out the highlights in her hair. “We can do better. Do you have anything in a rich purple color that would go with your red horsey jacket and those fancy white chaps?” He didn’t wait for her answer. He continued his rejection of Emily’s wardrobe. “What about this?” He drew out a lavender button-down and held it up to Tina, who’d been as silent and still as a cornered mouse since he’d mentioned his famous sister.
“I like it,” Tina said in a voice that sounded as if she hadn’t spoken in a hundred years.
“It does warm up the brown in your hair.” Conceding the fact, Emily took the hanger from Jonah. Her fingers curled around the hook the way she’d like to curl them around the neckline of his polo as she dragged him out the door.
“This look...” Jonah wasn’t through. “It says sophistication. It says wisdom. It says I belong to this horse posse.”
“The point is not to conform, but to be yourself.” Emily couldn’t stress that enough to Tina. “To show people who you are and what makes you special.”
“Which version of herself should she show?” Jonah scanned Emily’s closet once more. “Everyone has different sides to themselves. Tina, you strike me as a down-to-earth, friend-to-all type of person.”
“Thank you for that assessment,” Emily began.
Jonah nodded. “Though I suspect you’ve got a stubborn streak, like this one.” He nodded toward Em. “A rich, royal purple is the way to go. And avoid ruffles.” He shuddered.
“A lot of Western wear has ruffles.” Emily bumped him aside with her hip.
Jonah gave her an incredulous look. “You’re in the arena to show off your skill, not your ruffles.”
“He’s got a point,” Tina said meekly.
He did. Emily blew out a breath.
“Now.” Jonah gestured toward Emily’s wardrobe. “Since I’m giving out fashion advice, if Emily’s going to be dating, she needs more feminine footwear than these boots.” He picked up Emily’s pink boots with gold trim. “The next time we’re within the radius of a decent-size mall or clothing store, we shop.”
“The likelihood of us going anywhere together outside of Second Chance is never.” Emily snatched her boot back. The pink boots were the one thing she owned that was fun and impractical. “If only I had my beloved boots on, I might kick you out of here.” She curled her toes in her socks, and gave him a look designed to discourage. “Remember my conditions? No wardrobe changes.”
“Every deal is negotiable.” Jonah grinned. He was impossible, skin so thick he didn’t seem to care that she wanted to get rid of him.
Emily sighed. “If I agree, will you skedaddle?”
“Skedaddle?” Jonah’s grin widened. He leaned toward Tina and spoke behind the back of his hand. “In modern times, we say get lost.”
“Get lost, Jonah,” Emily ground out.
“Hang on.” He scanned the trophies on her bookshelf. “Is that your rodeo queen trophy?” He picked it up, blowing dust off it. “I never got more than a participation medal in soccer.”
�
�Perhaps you’ll finish that script and earn an award.” Em snatched her trophy and returned it to its place of pride on the shelf among her other dusty awards.
“I’d like that.” Jonah smiled at them both. “A trophy I’d never dust, just like Emily.”
“Jonah,” Em wound out the word.
“One more thing before I go.” Jonah reached into the closet and tugged a black scoop-neck blouse free. “When you talk to Bo later, wear this.”
It was the blouse she wore once a year to meet her friends in Ketchum for a night of dancing. “Wait.” Emily tapped her foot impatiently as his words sank in. “I really don’t have time for—”
“You do!” There was mischief in those brilliant blue eyes of his.
Emily narrowed hers. “Get lost, Jonah.”
“Lady Tina. Queen Emily.” Jonah bowed dramatically. “I’ll be in the kitchen talking to Gertie if you need me.”
Finally he left, but the annoyance of his presence lingered.
“He’s related to Ashley Monroe?” Tina’s voice hadn’t gotten any smoother, but there was a respect in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Sadly, it was for Jonah, not Em. “What’s he doing here?”
“He’s writing a movie script about a local legend.” And because she needed a little ego boost, Emily added, “And I’ve agreed to help him.”
* * *
“I’M AFRAID I can’t help you, Jonah.” Gertie transferred oatmeal cookies from a cookie sheet to a cooling rack. She wore a gray T-shirt with sunflowers embroidered on it, as bright and cheerful as the woman herself. “I have no idea who Letty is.”
“I know she’s dead,” Adam piped up from the kitchen floor, where he was sitting, eating a cookie under the watchful eye of Bolt. “We found her in the cemetery.”
The Clark kitchen was in need of an update. The oak cabinets had seen better days. They were water stained and banged up. Jonah leaned against a counter near the kitchen sink, enjoying the welcoming smells of sweet cookies and the nostalgic feeling of inclusion in a large, bustling family.
Davey and Charlie darted in to steal a couple of cookies and then ran back to their video game. Carrying a handful of invoices, Franny came in to fill a glass with water, muttering about the rising price of hay. Emily and Tina’s laughter drifted to Jonah from the other side of the house.
Grandpa Harlan would’ve loved this.
He would’ve loved Emily and the way she stood up to Jonah, going toe to toe. Aria had always taken Jonah’s sarcasm the wrong way. Looking back, it was hard to pinpoint what had drawn him to the ethereal beauty, other than the fact that she’d looked twice at him before looking twice at Bo.
“I feel sorry for the poor woman,” Gertie went on. “Letty’s been forgotten.”
Jonah didn’t know whether to be upset or relieved that Gertie knew nothing about the woman buried on the ridge.
“Who do you think she was, Jonah?” Gertie put a few cookies from an earlier batch in a small red tin, making room for more cookies on her wire rack.
“His mother. His grandmother.” Jonah snapped his fingers. “Maybe a passing hermit.”
“Anyone but a love interest?” Gertie slanted him a look that judged. “Jaded. That’s what you are.”
Jonah chose to ignore her observations, mainly because they were true. “Maybe Letty found the cave first.”
Gertie tsked. “You don’t want this Letty woman to mean anything to anyone.”
Emily had said much the same up at the cemetery.
“Now, now. Like I told Emily, I care. I just don’t want any little Mikes running around.” Jonah made the no-no gesture by shaking his finger from side to side. “It’s hard to be ruthless when you’re a dad. Maybe single Mike felt he owed Letty for guarding his cache of gold while he was out robbing folks and that’s why he bought her a grave marker.”
“That implies he cared for her and acted with honor.” Gertie was just as feisty as her granddaughter. “Why do you want to make him so irredeemable? People make mistakes all the time. That doesn’t make them bad through and through or untrustworthy.”
“But mistakes—yours and others—make you think twice about trusting anyone.” Even yourself. Jonah frowned. The conversation wasn’t giving him what he needed. “What can you tell me about the Clark cemetery?”
“Only that we stopped burying Clarks up there midcentury.” Gertie extended a spatula with a cookie toward him.
Jonah politely turned her down, plucking a banana from a fruit bowl instead.
“Can I have his cookie, Granny?” Adam held out a hand, smiling for all he was worth. “Please.”
Gertie gave him the cookie she’d offered to Jonah and then leaned her elbows on the kitchen counter and fixed Jonah with a no-excuses stare. “Emily told me you were engaged once.”
“As opposed to being engaged many times?” Jonah tried to put her off with humor.
“You’re a slippery one.” The old woman gave Jonah a knowing smile, the careful mouth-curl of an intelligent woman who wasn’t going to be put off the scent. “What happened?”
“We broke it off.” Jonah shrugged as if there was no more to the story, when the opposite was true.
“Oh, young man. I’m looking at you now and getting an impression...” Gertie straightened, gripping the counter for balance until she could grab the cane leaning nearby. “You don’t particularly want to be married.”
“No, ma’am.” But he was curious about her grandmotherly intuition. “Did you have this same feeling about Shane when he came around?” Shane had been a career-driven bachelor until he met Franny.
“Shane.” Gertie tapped her cane on the worn linoleum. “Shane always gave an impression of being a good family man.”
“I’m a good family man,” Jonah countered, although he wasn’t sure why he was defending himself. Marriage was a subject best left untouched. “I just don’t think I’d be a good daddy.”
“Said every stubborn man who fights falling in love ever.” She harrumphed and peered at her great-grandson on the floor. “Do you like Jonah, Adam?”
“Yes.” The boy beamed at his adult audience. “He’s funny sometimes.” Adam held out a hand, expecting his answer to be rewarded with a cookie.
“Last one.” Gertie handed Adam another treat, a small one as cookies went.
Adam didn’t care. He gobbled it up and then let Bolt lick his fingers.
“You can protest fatherhood all you want.” Gertie hobbled out of the kitchen. “But there’ll come a day when you’ll change your tune. All the best ones do.” Gertie moved toward the living room. “I’m not done thinking about you, Jonah. I’ll be back with more questions after my talk show is over.”
Adam got to his feet. There was a hole in his sock near his big toe. “Are you in Granny school?”
“What?” Jonah didn’t understand the boy’s question.
“She’s givin’ you a test, like I get in school.” He skipped out of the kitchen, Bolt at his heels.
The kid was right.
More than anything, Jonah didn’t want to be around when Gertie’s show was over and his test would resume.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“YOU LOOK PRESENTABLE.” Jonah fiddled with Emily’s hair after Tina left, arranging it over her shoulder.
Emily swatted his hands away. She’d rolled the ranch ATV out of the equipment shed and was stowing a red tin of oatmeal cookies in the storage compartment. “You’re supposed to make me look better than presentable.” She’d changed into the black scoop-neck blouse, swiped on some mascara and lipstick, and was anxious to get some results.
Old Man Time was marching on. She had to keep up.
“Hey, you should be wearing one of Laurel’s designer dresses.” Jonah studied her face. “Add more makeup maybe to get rid of your raccoon tan. And can you try not to scowl?”
Em
ily shoved her sunglasses in place, hoping to cover the tan lines.
“That’ll do.” He nodded.
They were going to ride the quad down to the camp where Bo was living and working. It was located near the entrance to the ranch near the highway. Emily was a nervous wreck. Her hands shook. This was her chance to be seen by Mr. Bodalicious. She got on the ATV and waited for Jonah.
“Hop on and let’s see if you know what you’re doing coaching-wise.”
Jonah sat behind her, placing his hands on her hips. “I can give you advice until your cows come home. It’s up to you to execute it successfully.”
She noted the warmth of his hands.
I’m oil. He’s vinegar.
She sighed.
“Show some restraint.” Em wasn’t sure who the words were meant for—herself or Jonah. She started the engine and headed down the gravel road.
A few minutes later, they left the driveway and passed through a gate. They crossed a large meadow, stopping near a cabin a few feet from the shore of a small lake that would be dried up by late September.
Bo emerged from a cabin carrying a water bottle and wiping sweat from his forehead. In a sleeveless shirt that showed all those muscles, he looked like a model from a men’s cologne ad. “Are you dropping off my cousin? I could use a spare hand now that Shane’s gone.”
Emily was tongue-tied. No news there.
Jonah climbed off the back of the ATV and gave Emily a searching look. When she didn’t say anything, he did. “Gertie made cookies for you.”
“I knew there was a reason I loved that old woman.” Bo hopped off the front porch and walked toward them. “That doesn’t get you out of work, Jonah.”
“I was working.” Jonah’s chin jutted. “Don’t forget Shane’s plans for my scripts.”
“You can daydream about stagecoach robbers while you help me cut lumber.” Bo glanced at Emily, smiling politely.
Him-him-him, the eggs chanted.
Jonah poked her shoulder, raising his eyebrows.
That was Emily’s cue to say something besides “I want to bear your children.”
Enchanted by the Rodeo Queen--A Clean Romance Page 8
