Book Read Free

Falling for the Rebound Bride

Page 7

by Karen Templeton

A small smile touched her lips, as though she completely understood his question. “Because I saw it as some small way to make a real difference. And yes, I realize a lot of people would call it rich person guilt. Or worse. It’s not, though. At least, I hope it’s not. God knows my idealism got taken down a peg or ten my first year, but...” Her brows pushed together. “But it got replaced by something much more solid. Much more real. I honestly loved teaching, even on those days when I wondered what the hell I’d gotten myself into. Seriously, if it was just ego stroking I was after, I can think of a lot easier ways to earn a living. Not to mention more lucrative ones.”

  Smiling, Colin thought of his own work, how he’d gravitated toward chronicling the struggles of those whose lives were defined by them. The more he worked on his book, the more he itched to get back to what his father had rightly identified as his calling. His purpose.

  Even as that collided with another, long neglected—and even longer denied—pull he could no longer ignore toward the very place he once couldn’t leave fast enough. And which made it even more imperative he ignore the equally magnetic pull from the direct blue gaze across from him. A pull he doubted Emily even realized she was exerting. Especially given her situation.

  “So you’ll go back home?”

  The question seemed to startle her, even though she’d said virtually the same thing seconds before. Emily looked down, chuckling at the blob of tomato that had landed on her chest. She plucked it off, dropped it back on her plate. “Home is very important to me. I’m a definite nester. And not gonna lie, one of the things I was most looking forward to was making that nest with Michael, having a couple of kids of my own...” She tossed one hand in the air. “Turning people’s heads with my remarkable ability to effortlessly balance motherhood and career, being the gracious hostess as well as...” Another blush stole across her cheeks. “The perfect wife,” she finished softly, then snorted again. “A total crock, but there you are. And now...”

  The waitress reappeared to clear their places; Emily asked for the check, then gathered her purse off the sidewalk to dig out her wallet. Colin couldn’t help but notice her pretty hands, the gleaming polish on each perfect nail, the flawlessness marred only by a slight indentation where her engagement ring had been. He wondered if she’d returned it, only to immediately decide of course she had.

  “And now I have to totally reassess what that word means. Where home really is. What it is.”

  “But you just said—”

  The pup looked up when the waitress returned with the charge slip for Emily to sign. Tucking her copy of the receipt into her purse, she met Colin’s gaze again. “I know what I just said. But I guess you could say things are kind of...fluid right now.” She chuckled. “For the first time in my life, I have no one and nothing to answer to. I can do whatever I damn well please. For a while, anyway, until my savings run out.” Then, frowning, she looked over at the dog. “And what are we going to do about you, little guy?”

  Her genuine concern for the dog, the light shining in her eyes for the little girl a few minutes ago... What kind of creep stomps on a heart that big?

  Or worse, takes advantage of it?

  Colin got to his feet, plucking the pup off the chair. “Between my three brothers and my parents, I don’t imagine we’ll have any problem finding a home for him.”

  The chair squawked against the rough pavement when Emily pushed it back, then stood. “I suppose you’re right,” she said, even though the look on her face said she wasn’t nearly as down with that idea as he would’ve expected. Despite her trying to pawn the dog off on perfect strangers not five minutes before.

  But what he really hadn’t expected was how bad that made him feel. Mainly because he was in no position to do anything for anyone to make them happy. Or even feel better. Especially some sweet young thing who’d been not only dumped, but dumped on. And it’d only taken a single lunch to come to the conclusion that Emily Weber’s goodness ran soul deep, like some pure, unquenchable river of life.

  A river he didn’t dare even think of drinking from.

  No matter how thirsty he was.

  * * *

  Chuckling, Emily sat cross-legged on the tiled floor in the ranch house’s giant, beamed great room, watching the wriggling, growling little dog play tug-of-war with Josh’s almost-five-year-old son, the cone no impediment whatsoever to puppy shenanigans. A breath of fragrant, sunshine-warmed air swept across her face, making her turn toward the open French doors. Soon the high desert evening would suck all the warmth out of the glorious day, but for now she was simply grateful for a sweet, peaceful moment. As was her cousin, Emily guessed when she glanced over to see Dee curled up in the corner of one of the room’s leather sofas, her lips curved in a blissful smile as she watched the pup and boy tussle. Josh was out doing chores and baby Katie napped, clearly oblivious to both the pup’s yapping and Austin’s nonstop, high-pitched giggling.

  “I’m really sorry we can’t keep him,” Dee said for what felt like the hundredth time since Emily showed up with the dog three days before. “But between the baby and getting the gallery set up—”

  “It’s okay, Dee, really. You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

  “Not that he’s not adorable, but training a puppy takes so much time and energy—”

  “Dee!” Despite the knot in her stomach Emily strongly suspected had less to do with finding a home for this dog than...other things, she smiled. “I get it.” And she really did. Being awakened by a teething baby several times a night was clearly wreaking havoc on the whole family, whether Dee would actually admit that or not. “Sheesh.”

  But Deanna still looked all verklempt. Probably because, between imminently arriving new babies and wedding planning and the like, none of the other likely candidates could take him, either. Of course, Annie had put up a sign in the diner, as had Zach at the clinic, so Emily felt pretty confident the little hound wouldn’t be homeless for long. And Dee did say that as long as Emily was around to take care of him, he could stay there until a more permanent solution was worked out. Although of course the problem with that was she’d only become more attached, wouldn’t she?

  Seeming to realize she was right there, the baby dog swung around and came bounding over in a burst of uncoordinated canine joy to clamber into her lap, where he planted his oversize paws on her chest to give her chin a thorough wash.

  Austin folded up onto the floor to smush up beside her, smelling of dirt and sunshine and tangy little boy, and Emily’s heart twisted with missing being around “her” kids. “He really loves you, huh?” he said, pressing closer so he could pet the dog, who of course immediately decided the boy’s face needed washing, too.

  Emily laughed. Then sighed.

  Because reassessed goals or no, she was getting real tired of falling in love with things she had to eventually give up—or give up on. A realization that didn’t keep her from gathering the pup closer, laughing again when he then started nibbling at the ends of her loose hair.

  “I think it’s safe to say he loves everybody,” she said, planting a kiss on the little boy’s messy curls. Life here was loud and crazy and frequently dirty, and the chaos wrapped around Emily’s wounded heart like one of baby Katie’s soft little blankets. Perfect, she decided, was not only unachievable, it was boring—

  She laughed when, as she gently tugged on the puppy’s velvety ears, Dumbo-style, he swung his head from side to side in a futile attempt to bite her fingers.

  “Josh said Thor’s old crate is in the tack room,” Dee said. “That might help. Temporarily, I mean.” Emily looked up to see apology in her cousin’s eyes. “Because between a squealing baby—” as if on cue, Katie’s feed-me wail floated out from the baby monitor on the coffee table “—and an overenthusiastic little boy,” Dee said with a pretend glower at her stepson, who grinned, “he probably needs his sanctuary.


  And despite what Josh had said to her that first night, her bringing in a dog hadn’t been part of the game plan.

  “Sorry—”

  “It’s okay, honey, we’ll work it out.” The wailing became more frantic. “Really.”

  Yawning, Dee shoved off the sofa, wobbling a bit as she tugged down her long-sleeved T-shirt. Then she held out her hand to Austin. “Wanna come help me change her diaper?”

  The little boy made a face, but took Dee’s hand anyway, and followed her to the baby’s room. Emily let her head fall back against the sofa cushion, shutting her eyes as, with a huge doggy sigh, the puppy promptly passed out.

  Sanctuary.

  Like the ranch, the town, was to Emily. Had been, anyway, until that lunch with Colin. She wasn’t used to men directly meeting her gaze, she’d realized. Not her father, certainly. Or any of her other boyfriends, pre-Michael. And then not Michael, either, at the end, when he must’ve been suffocating under the weight of all those lies. Hell, yeah, she was still angry with him. But that would wear off, eventually, leaving in its wake an ocean of pity. Because in the long run, it’d be the dirtbag who suffered. Not her.

  And either of those were preferable to whatever the heck feelings these were, provoked by that mountain of steely calmness she’d shared lunch with the other day. A mountain in which were buried all manner of secrets, she suspected. Not national-security-threatening secrets, no—or at least, she didn’t imagine—but the kinds of secrets men like that would take to their graves rather than getting all touchy-feely-sharey.

  And she’d had enough secrets to last a lifetime, hadn’t she?

  Her phone dinged—the alarm she’d set to tell her when her brownies were done, since the kitchen was too far away to hear the buzzer. Setting the pup back on the floor, she heaved to her feet and plodded barefoot down the hall, the sweet, heady scent of warm chocolate intensifying as she got closer to the kitchen. It was the fifth batch of brownies she’d made since her arrival, but tough. It wasn’t as if she had a wedding gown to fit into anymore, was it?

  Although she might want to still fit into her jeans.

  Granted, the kitschy kitchen wasn’t her style—the hand-painted Mexican tiles were too busy for her taste, the cabinets and floor too dark—but it practically vibrated with Josh and Deanna’s contentment. With...promise. Deanna’s father leaving the ranch to her and Josh equally had been a shock, Emily knew. But for all her uncle’s faults, not to mention the mistakes he’d made with his only child—more from cluelessness than malice, it turned out—Granville Blake had definitely gotten one thing right: bringing Dee and Josh together again, even though he’d deliberately separated them as teenagers.

  An outcome that gave Emily hope, even as she had to battle hair-singeing envy every time she saw the happy, but exhausted, couple together.

  “You do realize you’re seriously sabotaging my attempts to get rid of the baby weight, right?” Dee said when she came in with the kids, the drooly, grinning baby slung on her hip like a sack of flour.

  “Hey. I’m good with eating them all if that makes you feel better—”

  “The hell you say,” Dee muttered so Austin couldn’t hear, settling into a chair at the huge kitchen table and yanking up her shirt to feed her child before thrusting out her hand. “Hand over the goods now and nobody gets hurt.”

  Chuckling, Emily cut a huge, gooey chunk of still-hot brownie from the pan, placing it on a napkin before setting it on the table beside Dee, then gave one to Austin, standing beside her with his nose practically in the brownie pan. “Don’t let the puppy have any,” she said. “Chocolate’s not good for dogs.”

  Not that this was an issue, since after blowing on the brownie for maybe a second the kid basically inhaled the whole thing in two bites, crumbs dripping down his front. Which he caught and shoved in his already full mouth. “C’n I take the dog outside?”

  “I suppose,” Dee said. “But only out back. And stay by the back steps!”

  “’Kay,” the boy said, slapping his hands on his thighs to call the dog. “C’mon, boy! C’mon!”

  And they were gone, although closing the back door behind them was apparently optional. Probably just as well, Emily thought, smiling again for her cousin. “You want milk with that? Or tea?”

  Dee yawned, then nodded. “Milk. Please.” Then, her forehead pleated, she lowered her gaze to her noisily feeding daughter. “I suppose we should think about what to feed your daddy for dinner, huh?”

  Emily plucked a pecan off the brownies, stuffing it into her mouth. “Why don’t you guys go out to eat?”

  That got a weary chuckle. “Clearly you’ve never tried taking a six-month-old to a restaurant. And Austin eats, like, a single nibble and he’s done. It’s kind of a waste.”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “Obviously I meant by yourselves, doofus. When was the last time you and Josh had date night?”

  Dee looked at her as though she’d suggested they fly to the moon. “Um...never?”

  Not that Josh’s parents or brothers wouldn’t be willing to take the kids. But hauling the kids to any of their houses, none of which were particularly close to the ranch, was a hassle. Same as it was for any of the brothers to bring their kids out to the ranch at night. And what with Josh’s mom never knowing when she might be called out on a delivery, it was hard to rely on his parents, too. Heaven knew this family was joined at the hip, at least in theory. In practice, however, the more babies that got added to the mix, the more logistics weren’t in their favor.

  Add to that the fact that Josh and Deanna had never “dated” in the traditional sense before they got married, coming into it as they had with two kids already, and...

  “Well, now’s your chance,” Emily said, scooping out a sizable brownie for herself. “No, I mean it—go into Taos, have dinner someplace other than Annie’s, see a movie, stay out past your bedtime. My treat, even. And I’ll watch the kids. We’ll have brownies for dinner—” she stuffed a huge, melty glob of goodness into her mouth “—and watch the Cartoon Network until our eyeballs fall out.” Then she laughed at her cousin’s horrified expression. “I can follow directions, goose. And I know you’ve got breast milk in the freezer, so...” She shrugged.

  Still, Deanna looked doubtful. Hopeful, but doubtful. “You sure?”

  “If I can handle a whole class of five-year-olds, I think I can handle one and his baby sister. Or at least keep them alive until you get back. Besides, it’s the least I can do to say thank you for letting me hang out here, all mopey and stuff.”

  Dee snuffled a little laugh. “You’ve hardly been mopey.”

  Not that she’d let them see, maybe. But there’d been more than one night when she hadn’t been even remotely able to fend off the pity demons, nights when she’d cried herself to sleep, wanting so badly to be smart and strong and sure, wondering if she ever would. Never letting ’em see you sweat—or fall apart—didn’t mean you didn’t.

  “Let me do this,” she said. “Please. Let me feel...useful.”

  Tears glittered in her cousin’s eyes as she extended one arm to Emily, pulling her into a hug that smelled of baby and breast milk and Dee’s shampoo.

  “I take it that’s a yes?” Emily mumbled into her cousin’s hair, and Dee nodded.

  “Good,” Emily said, letting go to finish cutting up the brownies, trying to ignore the beginnings of what felt an awful lot like panic.

  Chapter Five

  Colin heard Austin’s shrieks before he rounded the last curve to the house, a sound that sent his heart into his throat and chilled his blood. Of course, then he felt like an idiot when he spotted the boy chasing the puppy and Thor in the front yard, the trio dodging the quivering shadows cast by a half dozen lush cottonwoods, shimmering gold in the setting sun. Then he caught Emily’s laughter, as well, and his heart whomped
inside his chest a second time. Only harder.

  As in, like he’d been sucker punched.

  Sitting on a blanket on the patchy grass with the baby, she shielded her eyes from the sun when she spotted him, then waved, grinning. Although even from this distance he didn’t think he’d imagined the hesitancy in her smile. The caution. Only then she waved more insistently, beckoning him to join them. That surprised him, actually, considering there’d been no communication between them since that trip into town. Not that there should have been. Because reasons.

  And if he’d had a lick of sense he could’ve waved back and pointed toward the cabin, indicating he had things to do. Only Austin started to wave, too, like he was flagging down a plane, and...well, it didn’t feel right, ignoring his nephew. Especially since wasn’t this a huge part of why he was here? To at least act like he had a family?

  To figure out a few things?

  So he hung a right and pulled into the house’s driveway, trying like hell not to stare at Emily’s flowing, sun-glazed hair, making her look like some damn Botticelli painting, Venus on the Half Shell or whatever. Except Venus was naked in the painting and Emily was wearing jeans and a loose sweater. Not sexy at all, let alone naked.

  An image he maybe shouldn’t dwell on too hard. Although the closer he got and the more her bangs looked like tiny sunbeams dancing across her forehead, the more that became a lost cause. Fortunately Austin came running up, plowing into Colin’s legs with a big old grin splitting a face that reminded Colin so much of his daddy’s at that age it was ridiculous. Ignoring the bittersweet ache permanently lodged, it seemed, in the center of his chest, Colin swung the little boy up into his arms, almost unable to process the child’s immediate, uncomplicated acceptance of someone he’d never seen before a couple of weeks ago.

  Although considering his other experiences, why should that surprise him?

  “Daddy said you’re living in our old house, huh?”

  Colin smiled. “I am. For the moment.”

 

‹ Prev