by Meg Maxwell
He did like her. Too much.
Chapter Four
The kitchen clean from dinner, Emma sat on the patio with Redford beside her, watching a squirrel in the yard. It had been a long day, a good day, and she was tired and ready for a long soak in a bubble bath, but it seemed she had a cowboy’s hair and beard to tame and a dance to attend. She headed back inside just as Jake was coming down the stairs.
His conversation with CJ hadn’t gone well—that she could tell just by Jake’s expression. He seemed preoccupied, his shoulders tense, his jaw hard.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
He nodded. “Family stuff.”
“I know how that is,” she said, her father’s disapproving face floating into her mind.
He kept his gaze on her as he came down the stairs. “Your dad?”
“He wants me to move back home so he can raise my child right—and his way. He has a list of suitable husband candidates he wants me to meet before I—and I quote—‘lose my figure.’ He didn’t like his culinary school trained daughter working in a diner and he certainly won’t like it that I’m a cook for cowboys on a ranch in Blue Gulch.”
“Sorry,” Jake said. “I’m sure that right now you could use his emotional support.”
“That’s exactly right. It’s all I want. To know my father is there for me, that he loves me and cares about me. The conflict between us just makes me feel more alone than ever.”
He reached for her hand and held it for a moment, and the strong warmth of it was like a soothing balm. “I’m glad you’re going to the dance, then. Maybe it’ll take your mind off things. You’ll listen to some music, sway a bit, drink some weak punch.”
She smiled, then glanced at the grandfather clock against the wall. “I’d better get to the bunkhouse barn.” She pulled the comb from her bag and held it up. “This comb and I have a date with Grizzle.”
He grinned, and she was glad to see the worry and strain gone from his expression. But as she was leaving, she turned and both were back on his handsome face. Part of her wanted to stay and talk, but she’d promised Grizzle she’d show up an hour before the dance, and it was now just minutes to seven o’clock.
Emma walked the quarter mile to the other big red barn. The arched white door was closed but there was no bell so Emma knocked. Silence. She knocked again. Nothing. She tried the handle and the door opened.
Huh. Not what she was expecting. She didn’t know what she was expecting, really; she’d assumed the crew didn’t sleep in actual bunks in a barn with hay on the floor. But this building was really more like an apartment building just in the shape of a barn. There was an entry way with coatracks and boots storage, then four doors, labeled Bunk 1 and so on with each crew’s name on an engraved plaque magnet.
Number two was Grizzle’s door. She knocked.
“Open!” he called back.
She opened the door to find a small living room with a rug, a plush beige couch and a big screen TV. Grizzle came out of a back doorway; she could see a bed and a dresser. So the barn was really like a small apartment building.
“I made the mistake of looking in the mirror after my shower,” Grizzle said with a frown, his thick wiry hair poking up in every direction. “Maybe I should just forget this whole thing.”
“After I went to all the trouble of getting you this?” she asked, pulling out the comb she’d bought for a buck at the drugstore. “I also bought a little hair gel. I promise to just use a bit.”
“Let’s get this over with,” he said.
The only mirror in the entire apartment was in the bathroom, so they headed in there, but it turned out Grizzle didn’t want to see until she was done, or maybe not at all, so she had him sit down at the small square table by the window.
“Uh-oh,” Grizzle said. “There goes Goatby again.” He upped his chin out the window, and there was Jake and CJ chasing after the black goat up the field.
Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jake. He must have caught sight of the goat’s escape while getting dressed because he was shirtless, wearing only dark jeans that looked brand-new and nice brown leather cowboy boots.
She almost dropped the comb. My God, he was a thing to behold. His chest and arms were so muscular.
“He’s available,” Grizzle said. “But not really.”
“What? I’m not—” Emma said, feeling her cheeks burn. “But what do you mean ‘not really’?”
“Oh, he got burned bad by his last girlfriend. And what with all the family stuff, well, he’s just all tied up in knots.”
“Family stuff?” she repeated. There it was again.
“Oh, I shouldn’t be talking about the boss behind his back,” Grizzle said, then clammed up.
Emma glanced out the window and bit her lip. She wondered what was going on. She couldn’t take her eyes off Jake as she headed back toward the big barn with Goatby on a lead.
He’s available, but not really. Well, that was good, wasn’t it? She was available but not really. She knew what that meant. She was single, but she wasn’t looking for a relationship. She was her own woman and would make her own way. She didn’t need rescuing, no matter what her father thought or said.
And clearly, Jake was the same. But she didn’t like the thought of Jake Morrow being tied up in knots. He was a good man, clearly, cared about his brother and the men who worked for him at the Full Circle. He deserved all the happiness in the world. Maybe she could apply some of her “tips for unruly cowboys” to him.
“Well, let’s see,” she said to Grizzle, assessing him. She eyed the wild gray-brown wiry hair, going in every which way, down to the end of his neck. She reached for her spray bottle and gave his hair a spritz, then worked in a bit of gel, which had a nice, clean masculine scent.
“I feel stupid,” Grizzle said, frowning. “Are you done yet?”
She laughed. “Couple minutes and you’ll be free.”
She worked the gel through, then combed his hair, giving him an unstructured side part that wouldn’t look too “done.” She ran her fingers through the mass to make sure his hair wouldn’t dry sticky or crunchy. “Okay, we’ll wait for that to dry. Now for the beard.”
He rolled his eyes and she had to laugh.
She used the spray bottle again and a tiny bit of gel to just tame the beard as much as she could, and what a difference both made. The beard was still mountain man, but looked groomed instead of a messy wild thatch.
She stepped back and almost gasped. “Wow, Grizzle. With your hair and beard groomed some, those beautiful blue eyes of yours really stand out.”
“I might as well see what you did to me,” he grumbled.
He walked into the bathroom and she heard him gasp. “I look...ten years younger!”
She laughed. “You sure do.”
“Huh. Think I should put on a different shirt?” he asked.
“You were planning to wear that?” she asked, chuckling. He was wearing one of his work shirts, gray chambray with his name and the ranch embroidered on the side. She could see a mustard stain, which had to be from lunch, and the shirt kind of smelled like blue cheese from the salad at dinner.
“Maybe a nice plaid shirt, button-down with crisp jeans?”
“Crisp?” he repeated, titling his head.
“You know, dark wash and fresh from the dryer?”
“I have lots of faded jeans and a pair of black pants. I do have one pair of those khaki things. Should I wear those?”
Emma smiled. “Those sound just right. And those brown boots by the door instead of your work boots.”
Fifteen minutes later, when Grizzle was all ready, Emma couldn’t believe her eyes. The man had been transformed.
Grizzle was tall enough but seemed to stand even taller now that he was so presentable.
“So you think if I asked someone to dance, she’d be happy about it instead of disappointed that she had to?”
“Absolutely,” Emma said.
He lifted his chin. “Huh. I guess we’ll see.”
“I’d better go get ready myself,” she said. “See you there.”
“See you there. Oh, and, Emma?”
She turned around by the door. “Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome,” she said, her heart bursting for the man.
“You’d better wear a burlap sack,” Grizzle said as she was leaving. “And sneakers. Your feet will be killing you after having to dance every dance. You’re the new gal.”
“Oh, I’m not worried about that. I’ve ensured that no one will ask me to dance.”
“How’d you do that?” he asked.
She smiled at the thought of the little gift she’d bought herself in town last week. It would be perfect for tonight. “You’ll see.”
* * *
“Um, Emma?” Jake heard CJ say just outside his home office. “No offense but...”
“But what?” Emma asked.
Okay, what was this about? Jake could hear CJ and Emma talking in the hallway by the bottom of the stairs. He came out of his office to find his brother looking at Emma as if she had four heads and Emma smiling proudly.
“Emma, trust someone who knows a thing or two about guys and relationships,” CJ said. “No one—and I mean no one—is going to ask you to dance if you wear that.”
“That’s exactly why I’m wearing it,” Emma said, glancing down at her shirt.
Jake smiled at Emma’s silky yellow tank top with Baby On Board in rhinestones across the front. A rhinestone arrow pointed down to her belly. She wore a denim skirt and silver sandals and looked absolutely beautiful.
“If it’s rude to say no at a bucks’ choice dance,” she added, “I thought I’d let my condition do the talking for me.”
“I know you said you were off the market, but don’t you want a father for your baby?” CJ asked.
Jake frowned at him. A little personal, CJ. Still, he was glad CJ had no manners and had asked. Jake wanted to know.
“I can support my baby on my own,” she said. “I have a job, a nice place to live, and Jake already said it won’t be any problem for me to bring the little one to work when he or she comes along. A bassinet, a playpen, and I can take care of him or her just fine while I’m in the kitchen.
“Oh, I didn’t necessarily mean financially,” CJ said. “I meant—” His phone pinged with a text. He pulled his cell from his pocket and looked at it, his face falling. “Oh hell. Now Stella says she might not be going to the dance. She says she can’t believe anything I say. Do you believe that?” He frowned.
It took everything in Jake not to say “yes, I do believe that.”
CJ’s scowled deepened. “Well, if she goes, I’ll just make her jealous and then she’ll realize how much she wants me.”
“Um, CJ,” Emma said. “If she’s already nervous about your reputation as a serial dater, I don’t think making her jealous at the dance is the way to approach winning her heart.”
“Emma, with all due respect, I have a lot of experience with women.” He smiled and rolled his eyes in an exaggerated way and headed toward the door. “See you there,” he said with a grin as though he had nothing to worry about.
Jake shook his head. “He’s going to learn the hard way too.”
“Yup,” Emma said.
“Grizzle let you near him with that comb?” he asked.
“He did! Wait till you see him. You might not recognize him.”
“Shall we go?” he asked, offering his arm.
“Oh,” she said, taking a step back. “I didn’t realize we were going together.”
He dropped his arm. “Well, not together, together. Of course. But we are going to the same place, so I’m happy to drive.”
“Right,” she said. “Sorry. That would be great.”
He didn’t offer his arm again, but he wanted to.
To a woman with a Baby on Board tank top.
* * *
In the first half hour, Emma had been asked to dance three times.
“You might have a baby on board but I don’t see a ring,” a tall, skinny man in a black Stetson said, holding out his hand as a country song blared from the band on the stage.
Despite the man’s warm smile, Emma gulped as she had the past two times. The song was a slow ballad. “Thanks for asking. But I promised every dance to someone.”
Which was how she’d ended up in Jake’s arms for the third time.
He smelled like soap and the slightest hint of a spicy aftershave. “Back again,” he said with a laugh.
“Sorry,” she said. What if he didn’t want to dance with her? Then again, he was the one who’d come up with the idea. Just being nice. And now he was stuck with her.
Except there was something about the way he was holding her that felt so...comfortable. So comforting. He wasn’t holding her like a man who had to. But like a man who wanted to.
“I’m sorry that CJ got so nosy,” he said. “I think he’s trying to work out some things for himself so he’s full of questions.”
“I don’t mind at all,” she said. “I’m glad it’s out in the open—that I’m not looking for a husband. I can stand on my own two feet.”
He held her gaze and nodded. “Well, just know if you ever need anything, to say the word.”
This felt too good. The way he held her, the way she was able to forget everything and just move to the music and the singer’s melodic voice. Part of her wanted to pull away but most of her was staying put.
“You sure country dance good for an Oak Creek girl,” Hank said from behind her.
Emma raised an eyebrow at the foreman, who was standing close by with a bottle of beer. He looked great—a nicely pressed Western-style shirt and dark jeans and unscuffed cowboy boots. His thick red hair looked freshly cut. “Hank, that sounds as though you’re saying Oak Creek women are too snooty to enjoy country-Western dances at a rancher’s association fund-raiser.”
Hank looked confused. “But that is what I’m saying.”
Jake shook his head. “You can see how a woman from Oak Creek might take offense, Hank.”
Hank shrugged. “Take offense at the truth? I don’t get it.”
Hank’s rough edges sure weren’t going to be easy to smooth over, Emma thought. “Hank, did you ask Fern to dance?”
“The minute I approached her, without saying a single word, she said ‘No, Hank’ and turned away.” The foreman scowled.
“Well, how about this,” Emma said. “What if you try again and very politely tell her she looks lovely this evening and would she like to dance. See how that goes.”
Hank all but snorted. “Lovely? I don’t talk like that.”
“Try ‘nice,’ then,” Jake suggested.
“Oh fine,” Hank said, rolling his eyes. “If that’s what I have to do.”
Jake laughed as Hank squared his shoulders and marched up to Fern.
Emma could see Fern lift her chin and listen. And then all of a sudden, she was following Hank on the dance floor.
Success!
“Well, well,” Jake said. “We make a good team.”
She smiled. A team. The word filled her with warmth and chilled her at the same time. “Oh no,” she said, upping her chin to the left. “I see Golden. He’s just sitting at the table in the back, slouched down.” She glanced around. “And there’s Katie, on the dance floor with some other guy.”
“Let’s go rescue him,” Jake said. “Give him some courage.”
She smiled and they headed over. A team. “Hey, Golden. Song will be changing soon. Katie’s right there.” She pointed at
where she stood dancing with a guy Emma recognized as a Hurley’s regular.
Golden looked terrified. “I can’t. I just can’t. I don’t even know what to say.”
“You just say, ‘Katie, would you like to dance?’”
Jake nodded. “That’s it.”
Golden squeezed his eyes shut and looked like he might throw up. When the song ended and Katie began walking away from the dance area, Golden looked at Jake and Emma, then sucked in a breath and got up and started walking toward her.
“Oh, hi, Golden! Having a good time?” Katie asked.
Emma watched the poor guy freeze. His mouth started moving and then he just hurried away. Katie’s fell face. But in two seconds, Dylan, the cook at Hurley’s, had her twirling to a pop song.
“Poor guy,” Emma said. “He may take more time to help out in the romance department than all the others combined.”
Jake watched Golden drop back down on the bench. “Well, if he wants to make sure Katie doesn’t get away, he’ll get there. Sometimes, a person needs a meaningful enough goal.”
She nodded. “Just look at Hank. He and Fern are still dancing!”
“You know, Hank’s delivery might not be on the money but the sentiment is there—You are a good dancer.”
“Well, I might be from fancy Oak Creek but I grew up on a farm. It was passed down from four generations of my mother’s family. Some light dairy production but mostly produce, particularly apples. I went to quite a few Rancher Association dances in my teen years.” The thought of the farm filled her with such a sudden pang of sadness that she had to go sit down.
“Emma?” Jake said, following her over. “You okay?”
It had to be the hormones. What was with all these sudden yearnings for home?
Jake sat down beside her and his nearness added to her confusion. How could she want to be on her own and want him so danged equally? Maybe it was just lust.
Except Emma wanted more than just to rip off Jake Morrow’s clothes and see all those glorious muscles.
“I guess I’m not always okay about how things are,” she said, hating how weak she sounded to her own ears. “When I graduated from high school, I was there, at home, and working the farm, but my father was horrified,” she said. “He kept saying we had a staff to run the farm and that I needed to concentrate on going to college and finding a solid family to marry into. Eventually it drove me away. I moved out, got an apartment on Main Street in Oak Creek and went to culinary school, but the fancy restaurants I worked in after didn’t suit me. When I started working at the diner, my father was embarrassed for both of us. He’s even more horrified now that I’m pregnant and on my own.”