Emily's Chance (v5)

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Emily's Chance (v5) Page 7

by Sharon Gillenwater


  “I will. I’d like to collect branding irons from all the ranches around here and hang them on the wall of the exhibit.”

  “Good idea. I can’t wait to see it.”

  “Ed’s great-grandfather was a lawyer. He has several things, including furniture and law books, that were in his office. Another member of the Historical Society has a collection of drugstore items that belonged to an uncle in the 1920s. Those are typical displays, but I’m hoping we can find something unique to the area.”

  “I see you were able to clean up the mastodon bones. Aren’t those unusual?”

  “Yes. There aren’t too many museums around here that have any prehistoric items. But I’m worried. Don’t tell anybody else, especially not your mom, but I’m still concerned about having enough donations to make it a viable museum. I had my doubts, even before the fire. Now . . .” She drew a deep breath and released it slowly.

  “That doesn’t sound like the Emily Rose I know. The one whose faith never wavers.”

  “You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Chance. I do trust in the Lord. But my faith in people isn’t nearly as strong.”

  Chance brushed a wisp of hair off her cheek, letting his fingertips linger for a few seconds. She looked up at him with a wary expression. “You’ve been hurt. By your nanny. Your parents. Probably that boyfriend you mentioned. Others?”

  She turned her head but didn’t move away. “More than I can count. This morning you said many of the women you dated had been more interested in your family’s money than they were in you. I understand that completely, only perhaps in a slightly different way.

  “My folks have a lot of money. I was expected to move within a certain circle of friends, date a specific group of boys. If I befriended anyone outside the clique, both my new friend and I paid for it.

  “There were only a few people in the group who were nice and who I still count as friends today. The rest of them were about as nice as scorpions.”

  “Ouch. But you still hung out with them?”

  “Until I went off to college. I didn’t like them, but I didn’t want other people to get hurt because of me. So I hovered on the fringes as much as I could and spent most of my time studying. Things were better in college. My parents didn’t have much control there. I was very careful not to tell anyone who my parents were.”

  “What, no Ferrari?” he teased.

  She met his gaze, her expression somber. “I left it at home.”

  Chance studied her face. “Are you serious?”

  “Completely. My mom drives it when she’s in the mood.”

  “Hmm, and I thought my pickup was hot stuff.” He grinned at her, wanting her to feel at ease.

  “Well, it is. For something you haul hay and lumber and who knows what else in.” A tiny twinkle lit her eyes, and he felt a small victory. “I could still beat you in a race, though.”

  “That’s a no-brainer,” he said with a laugh, making her smile.

  She pulled out a chair and sat down, her smile fading. Chance grabbed another chair and moved it over so he could face her, resting one arm on the table.

  “My not-wealthy strategy backfired when my folks unexpectedly decided to drop in to see me in the spring of my senior year at Tech. They were in Lubbock for a medical association meeting and decided to check up on me. It was the first time they’d come to see me at school since I was a freshman.

  “They drove up in Dad’s Porsche, and Mom was wearing her typical designer clothes. I doubt the outfit and shoes cost less than five grand. I have no idea how much her jewelry cost. My boyfriend was so shocked, I thought he might faint. Then my mom commented that surely with the money from my trust fund I could afford a much nicer place. To say they weren’t impressed with my modest one bedroom apartment is an understatement.”

  “You hadn’t told your boyfriend about the trust fund?”

  “No. I told him I had a monthly allowance to live on.” She grimaced and toyed with a silver matchbox on the table. “In a sense that was true, but it was a self-imposed limit. I’ve had full access to the money since I turned twenty-one.”

  “So he was ticked because you hadn’t been honest with him. I can understand that.”

  “So could I. I knew I’d have to tell him the truth eventually, but I liked my normal, everyday life. I’d caught myself in a trap and couldn’t figure out how to explain it. I expected him to be mad, and he was. Thankfully, he waited until after my parents left to blow his top. I was ashamed about lying to him. But that turned out to be the last thing that bothered him.”

  Chance figured he knew what angered the bum the most, but he let her keep talking. He had a feeling that she hadn’t shared this with very many people.

  “He was angry because I hadn’t lavished money on him. Because I was a cheapskate. He thought I should have given him all the electronic toys and gadgets he wanted. Eaten at nicer restaurants. Gone out partying or to sports events. Gone to the Bahamas on Christmas break. Or traveled around Europe.”

  “Didn’t want much, did he.” Chance shook his head.

  Emily sighed and laughed a small laugh. “Not much. We couldn’t resolve things. We’d been together six months, and the breakup hurt. At least he moved in with some buddies and didn’t find a new girlfriend for a while. So, yes, he hurt me. But I hurt him too. I regret that.”

  She lifted one shoulder in a light shrug. “Now, I don’t pretend to be something I’m not. I don’t make a big deal out of having money, but I don’t keep it a secret either. My trust fund came from my grandfather, and he is very generous.”

  “So you really don’t have to work.” Which meant she might not be too anxious to race back to San Antonio if he gave her a good reason to stay in little ol’ Callahan Crossing. Not that they had the kind of entertainment she was used to, but surely there were some community activities she’d find enjoyable.

  “Technically, no. But it doesn’t hurt to earn more money. And I love what I do. I have my five-year plan all laid out.” She wrinkled her nose. “Though it’s looking longer now. My ultimate goal is to become the head curator at a top-notch museum. But I have to land a job as an assistant curator first and work my way up.”

  It didn’t matter whether it was five years or twenty, Chance didn’t like her plan. “Helping small museums like ours is a good thing. Couldn’t you keep doing that?”

  “I could. I probably will until I’m hired in a full-time position. But this is the bottom rung of the ladder.”

  “And you want to go all the way to the top.”

  “Exactly. I intend to be a success. I need to be.”

  “Why?”

  She frowned and met his gaze. “It’s part of who I am. I’ve always wanted to be the best at whatever I attempted. And, well, it’s expected.”

  “By your parents?”

  “Yes. By everyone in my family except Grandma Rose.”

  “Your mom or dad’s mother?”

  “Mom’s. That side of the family is nice – normal. Grandma Rose lives in Eden. I get my love of history from her. She tells me I don’t have to be the best. If I do my best and wind up second fiddle, that’s okay.”

  “Sounds like good advice to me. I think I’ll like your grandma Rose.” And maybe her other grandfather who provided for her. He was going to have a problem with her parents. That probably didn’t bode well.

  Smiling, she tipped her head slightly. “I think she’d like you too. I’m going to go see her on Sunday. Why don’t you come with me?”

  “I’d love to go with you.” He could always take her for a drive around the ranch another day. “What time do you want to leave?”

  “At 8:30. I want to get there in time to go to church with her.”

  “I’d like that. Do you want me to drive?”

  “Only if you’re too macho to ride shotgun.”

  Chance narrowed his eyes. He had the feeling she was testing him, maybe to see if he would try to squash her independence. “I don’t mind being the
passenger.”

  “No backseat driving.”

  “No, ma’am.” He might not be above a little front-seat driving if necessary, but he didn’t think he should mention it right then. Glancing at his watch, he decided he’d better get home. “I need to call it a night. Have an early getup in the morning.”

  Emily stood and he followed. “Are you hitting the bulldozer at the crack of dawn?”

  “Not quite. Dalton wants me to stop by before I head out. He wants to talk about building his house. Then I’ll hop on my trusty dozer. I can’t help much longer. I need to concentrate on building projects.”

  They moved to the door, and Emily looked down at the floor. “Thanks for coming out here with me. Sorry I talked so much.”

  “I’m not. I want to learn all about you, Emily.”

  She met his gaze, a hint of sorrow in her eyes. “I think you just did, including the sordid details.”

  “Nothing sordid about it.” He lightly tapped the end of her nose with his fingertip. “And there’s a whole lot left to discover.”

  A tiny smile lifted her lips. “It’s my turn to learn about you.”

  “Not much to tell. You have the advantage of seeing me with the family. That basically sums up who I am.”

  “I doubt that. We’ll see on Sunday.” She wiggled her eyebrows as he opened the door.

  “It’s liable to be a boring conversation, but I’m game.” Since he’d met her, he’d already learned things about himself he hadn’t known. Who knew what else lurked in the shadows?

  Deputy Sheriff Dalton Renfro had been staying at the Callahan Ranch since his house burned. He’d bunked at Will’s place for a few days, then moved into the camp house Nate vacated when he and Jenna got married. Nate left the furniture, stereo, and television. Considering Dalton had lost everything except his horses, which his father had rescued, the clothes on his back, and his patrol car, he was thankful for all of it.

  He’d gotten up extra early to tend to his horses because Chance was coming by to talk building plans. His home had been only two years old, and he’d done much of the work on it himself. He didn’t have the heart to put all that time and effort into a new one.

  The horses were fed, and he’d finished mucking out the stalls when he spotted Chance’s headlights coming down the dirt road. Putting away the pitchfork, he walked back to the house, reaching the porch about the time Chance pulled up. He waited outside until Chance joined him on the porch.

  “Mornin’.” Chance grinned as they shook hands. “Hope I’m not too early.”

  “Nope. All the critters are fed and watered, including me.” Dalton stepped back, opening the door wide. “Want some up-and-at-’em juice?”

  “Sure. I could use another cup.” Chance followed him into the kitchen. “How are you doing?”

  Dalton glanced at him, then took another mug from the cabinet. “You want the truth, or what I tell everybody else? What everybody tells everybody else.”

  “The truth.” Chance pulled out a chair and sat down.

  Dalton felt his gaze as he poured them both some coffee. “If I was any lower, you could use me for a throw rug.” He joined his friend at the table. “Pastor Brad says it’s usual for depression to show up a while after something like the fire. At first people are busy surviving – finding a place to stay, dealing with the insurance, FEMA, the bank, or whoever so they can try to put their lives back together. They don’t have that much time to grieve for what they’ve lost. But I thought I was handling it okay.”

  “You’ve been so busy working and helping other folks, you probably haven’t had the time or energy to think about things too much. When did it hit you?”

  “Yesterday afternoon. I drove out to my place to see it after they finished the cleanup. There’s nothing left of the house and barn except a little bit of ash and one brick. One brick from the whole house. The big mesquite tree in the backyard is gone. That ol’ tree shaded the whole house in the late afternoon. Now there’s just a burned stump sitting there to remind me of it. The pastures are black. Every bit of the fencing is gone. It’s worse than when I bought it. At least then there were grass and fences.”

  “As soon as we get some rain, the grass will grow back. And we’ll help you put up new fencing.”

  “I appreciate that, but y’all have done too much already.” “Dalton, you’re a friend and a brother in Jesus. It’s our privilege to help you. You know you can stay here as long as you want. It’s beneficial to have someone living here.”

  “What if you hire another hand?”

  “I don’t see that happening anytime soon. Buster and Ollie will probably be here until they retire, and that’s years away. Nate is part of the family now, but he still works as much as he did before he and Jenna got married.”

  Nate divided his time between cowboyin’ and helping his father run their cotton farm. Dub and Will managed the ranch, and Jenna did the bookkeeping, among other things. Chance helped out during roundup and when he wasn’t busy with construction.

  Though Dalton knew he wasn’t imposing on the Callahans, he still felt like a freeloader. But he wasn’t all fired up to start building his house, either.

  Chance took a drink and relaxed against the back of the chair, mug in hand. “What else is going on?”

  “I can’t dredge up any enthusiasm to rebuild. I want to make a few changes from what I had, but I can’t seem to concentrate on the plans long enough to figure out what they are. I tried studying those alternate plans you gave me, but after five minutes, they all start looking alike.”

  Chance laughed, almost spewing his coffee all over the table. He swallowed and hopped up for a paper towel to wipe a dribble off his chin. “There are only two of them that are similar. There are eight totally different options.”

  “So you said when you gave them to me.” Dalton slumped in the chair, more tired than he wanted to admit, even to himself. “I reckon I just don’t want to think about it now.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “But I promised you the job.”

  “I’ve got plenty of work. If you aren’t in a hurry, I’ll just shift someone else up in the schedule.”

  “You sure it’s okay to stay here a while?”

  “Until you’re ready to move, whether it’s five months from now or a year or two.”

  “I want to pay rent. Otherwise, I’ll go camp out in the pasture and you can give this house to a family who needs it.”

  “Do you know of any family who doesn’t have a place to stay?”

  “Haven’t heard of any. Folks are either getting a FEMA trailer so they can stay on their property, finding a place to rent, or staying with family or friends.”

  “Like you are with us. You’ll have to take up the rent discussion with Dad. But you might as well save your breath. He’ll tell you to use your money to buy another pickup. Didn’t you have that Ford about six years?”

  “Five. But it was a year old when I bought it. Lucky for me, some guy couldn’t make the payments and had to give it back. The insurance won’t pay for a new one, that’s for certain. But I have some money stashed away. Thankfully, the bank didn’t go up in smoke.”

  “Even if it had, your stash would be covered.” Chance drained his mug and set it back on the table.

  Relieved that he could put off the house decisions for a while, Dalton relaxed. That had been weighing on him. “I was in town yesterday and saw you and Emily at that building you’re redoing. Y’all were lookin’ mighty cozy.”

  “How cozy?”

  “You had your arm around her.”

  “You could see that from the street?” Chance frowned thoughtfully.

  “I was walking by on the sidewalk. I noticed movement inside and stopped to see who was there. Don’t worry, there wasn’t anybody else around right then. Nobody to crank up the gossip mill.”

  “It’s already chugged to life. Mom tells me there were sparks flying between me and Emily at the Historical Society meeting the other
night. Several people made comments to her about it.”

  “Are you going to ask her out?” Dalton liked Emily. If he’d been in a better frame of mind and better situated, he might have asked her out himself.

  Chance met his gaze directly. There was an intensity in his eyes that put Dalton on alert, and he sat up a little straighter. “I’m going to marry her.”

  “You’re kidding.” Dalton studied his friend’s face. “No, you aren’t. Didn’t y’all just meet the day of the fire?”

  “Yep.”

  “Have you proposed?”

  “Nope. But I will when the time is right.”

  Grinning, Dalton shook his head. “Mighty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “No, but I’m sure of the Lord. I think he’s picked her for me. At least I hope he did because I’m crazy in love with her.”

  “I’ll buy crazy.” Dalton laughed and took a sip of coffee. “I envy you. Not that I want to date Emily, but that you’ve found someone you like so much. I hope it works out for you.”

  “Thanks. What about you? Are you interested in anybody?”

  “Don’t have anything to offer a woman right now.”

  “Nothing tangible at the moment, but the potential is there. Maybe that’s why you can’t get excited about the house. You need a wife’s input.”

  “Where am I supposed to find a wife? You already got dibs on the only new woman to come to town in a coon’s age.” Chance stood and carried his mug over to the sink, rinsing it out. Dalton watched in amusement as he opened the dishwasher and stuck the cup in the top rack.

  Walking back to the table, Chance rested his hands on the back of a chair. “Maybe you need to take another look at the ladies who’ve always been here.”

  “Like who?”

  “Lindsey.”

  Dalton stared at him, even as a picture of the cute blonde flashed through his mind. “Lindsey?”

  “If you think on it long enough, it’ll dawn on you.” Without another word, Chance sauntered out the front door.

  8

  On Sunday morning, Emily made one last survey in the mirror. Hair combed. Lipstick not smeared. Earrings and necklace matched her sweater – no mean feat since she’d changed her mind three times about what to wear. She wanted to look nice for her grandmother.

 

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